One of Khloe’s favorite pastimes is chasing her own tail. She’ll spin around and around in hope of catching it, but she never does. Sometimes I feel like I’m chasing my own tail as well. Meaning – nothing I ever do seems to get done!
I can spend the whole day washing clothes, go to bed, wake up and the basket is full again!
I go food shopping twice a week and yet we’re always out of something.
I sent my first child off to school in 1982 and my last child still has two years left to go. That means I’ve been packing gym clothes and school lunches for thirty years now! Don’t even get me started on the homework (If I’m not helping, I’m nagging them to do it).
Day after day, year after year, Its my job to decide – WHAT to make for dinner? I don’t even mind cooking it as much as I hate deciding WHAT to make.
And as hard as I try, I just can’t seem to get my inbox empty these days either (I guess thats thanks to blogging)
I’m not complaining… Well, maybe just a little.
My husband works and travels a lot, so its hard to count on him for any of the ongoing tasks that keep our house running. Instead, he’s in charge of projects and repairs. These things can take weeks, even months to finish, but eventually they get done and he can move on. After he’s finished everyone will praise him for a job well done, or tell me how lucky I am to have him. Sometimes I wish our roles were reverse and he could chase his tail for a few years…
He just called me outside to show me the new project he’s started. He’s building steps from our house, which sits on top of a cliff, down to the water.
I took this picture to show you what he’s up to…
I better go – I think I hear the dishwasher peeping…
My daughter (the one in the pig tails) recently posted this picture on facebook, it was taken on Mother’s Day 1981. When I first saw it I smiled, seeing myself again at twenty-three-years old, adorned with three beautiful children brought back happy memories. I had just given birth to my third child and that baby lying on my lap is now waiting to give birth to her third child. Where do the years go?
My heart swells with pride remembering my children at this tender age and now knowing the wonderful people they have grown up to be. I also see a slender arm and a smooth face, but there is unfortunately a flip side to this picture…
Behind the Farrah Fawcett hairdo is a girl, trapped in a controlling and unhealthy marriage. Weighed down in responsibility and much to embarrassed to let anyone know. If you’re wondering how bad it was, I’ll tell you…
Throughout the pregnancy I begged my doctor to sterilize me after the birth. At first he wouldn’t even listen, but after pleading at every visit and discussing all other options, my hopeless tears got the best of him. He performed the surgery immediately after the birth and I was left barren at twenty-three. A desperate act, of a very desperate girl. Now take another look at the picture…
You never know what secrets are hiding behind a smile in a picture. Since my story has been published I’ve surprisingly received numerous messages from different women, some I know, others I don’t admitting abuse.
Six years after this picture was taken my life took a hard turn and I was thrown out into another direction. I was later able to have the surgery reversed, and was blessed with two more children.
I was fortunate enough to get a do over, not everyone’s that lucky.
Look what the mailman brought yesterday. The first copies of Fly Away Home!
My heart pounded as I tore open the box and the feeling I got as I lifted that first copy into my hands can only be described as euphoric. After two long years my dreams were suddenly a reality in which I could hold. As I skimmed through, my life literally flashed before my eyes. Fifty two years of triumphs and shame. My strengths, my weaknesses, my marriages and my children’s lives, now in print. In twenty-one days it will be available to the world and no matter how it is received, I shall try and remember these three quotes:
“I admire anybody who has the guts to write anything at all.” -E.B. White
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at your typewriter and bleed.” -Earnest Hemmingway
“To share your weaknesses is to make yourself vulnerable; to make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength.” -Criss Jami