First, Love Yourself

My favorite place in all the world is one I found the first time I set foot on the campus at Pacific Lutheran University. I came back to college after a ten year hiatus from school. I meant to go right after high school, but life happened. So, two kids, a dozen odd jobs, a divorce, and a remarriage later, I decided to follow my passion and go back to college to become a teacher. I spent the first couple of years at a community college, getting my prerequisites out of the way, but when it was time to move on to a university, I began to explore PLU as an option. I applied, was accepted, and took the 60 mile trip from Seattle to see the campus with my husband. I knew the second I set foot on the serene layout at PLU that I was home, but one place resonated with me more than any other. It was a rainy, blustery March day. Toby and I spent the morning in the Commons, hearing about all of the options available to students, features about the campus, and various things to do. When it was time ...

My son decided several months ago that he wanted to live with his father. My knee-jerk reaction was to tell him no. How could the little boy I've nurtured and loved for the last 12 years want to leave me so soon? Was I a bad mother? What have I not done for him? How could his deadbeat father be a better parent than me? But as the school year closed and summer got closer, I began to relent. Partially because when I originally told him no, he became surly, withdrawn, and caustic to be around. I could tell he was unhappy here and he was unhappy with me. And to be fair, every conversation with him was an argument and the relationship between he and his sister was full of fights. I realized that he felt like he didn't really fit in here. He wanted to know his dad better, to be part of his life more. I remember feeling that way about my own mom, and never having the opportunity to explore my feelings. I knew I had to let him go--at least for the summer. But after a couple of weeks wi...

I'm having some trouble concentrating on much of anything today. I think it's because I am fixated on a lot of the things that are really frustrating me. I'm hoping that if I can get them all out in my journal, I can move on with what I need to get done today (read: homework). First, finances. It's no secret that Toby and I struggle mightily with money issues. We work hard, we don't take the easy way out of anything, yet we are always coming up short. In several ways. It frustrates me to no end that other people can just repeatedly go through life not working hard, not trying to take care of others, not fulfilling their own potential; yet, they always seem to land on their feet. Take my ex-husband, for example. The man doesn't have to be a real parent (although Nathan now wants to live with him, because he is way more fun than we are), he doesn't have to get a car because I do all of the transporting, and he doesn't have take on any real responsibility. ...

I'm sitting here in the quiet of the living room, listening to the sound of the rain lap at the roof. It's kind of cathartic. The rain outside is saving me from flooding my self some tonight. Things with my dad and stepmother have taken a turn toward the ridiculous and I am honestly feeling the need for some self-pity right now. A few weeks ago, I spoke to my father and stepmother over the phone. Now the pretext to this is that a few weeks before that, my father was in the hospital with some breathing problems. I rushed to Overlake (a 1 hour drive) to be with him and found my trip to be mostly a waste. He had plenty of people around him and really did not need me there. Well, a couple of weeks after that, Toby and I visited him at home to check in on him. He was still weak, but doing mildly better. Of course, if you ask my stepmother, he was still at death's door. Still a couple of weeks later was the fateful phone call that (sort of) began the whole mess of which we're...

The last two nights have inspired me to write. I haven't been this moved to voice my heart in a long time, and I honestly hope it continues. Much of it has to do with a recent infatuation of Annie Lennox, due in part to my lovely roomie. I must thank her for that. We are experiencing some rather dire times here. The water pump on our well has died and Toby is working day and night to fix it. Because of this sudden redirection of efforts, we are also dealing with a serious lack of cash flow. This necessitated a call to the parentals this evening to ask for some assistance in that area. While my stepmother was gracious about lending the money we needed, there is always that added cost of having to suck it up and humble oneself through a myriad of guilt trips. Tonight's array consisted of a particularly heart-wrenching one about how I've hurt my father and that he feels abandoned by his children. This is an interesting guilt trip, honestly. It got me to thinking about the rela...

My best friend told me today that in order to be a better blogger, I need to quit censoring so much of what I write. I need to quit filtering what I write, waiting for the moment of optimum word choice in order to write a meaningful post. I think that, on many levels, she is right. I have spent my entire life censoring. My words, my actions, my views, my self . I need to learn to put myself out there and not be afraid of the consequences. I envy that she can already do that. She says what she feels, unapologetically, and doesn't ever seem to worry what her readers or friends will think of what she says. I don't want to put words into her mouth, but I'm sure she really cares, but cares that people understand the real her even more. I wish I could be that audacious in my life. Everything I do is measured. I think before I act, most of the time before I speak, and most often before I feel. Anything. It's enough to turn a person inside out, honestly. My childhood was spent ...