We are so small, a speck, nothing really in the grand scheme of things. In the vastness of the world and space, in the drawn out expanse of history….who are we? Who are we to waste the few breathes of life we are given by only ever seeing ill in others, in ourselves, in the amazing world around us? It cannot matter what you believe or you don’t believe, Somehow deep down we all just want to be happy…….

And in the end, the hate and bitterness that one spreads in this life amounts once again to mere nothings and your breathe is gone, your chance to just “be” is over.

How does tearing each other down make our brief span here worthwhile?

I don’t understand it all.

And yet I am guilty too.

I am guilty.

I am sorry.

I am sorry for the hurt I have caused.

I am not ready to leave this world after all.

I am ready for another chance.

There is a pocket in our souls, in our being, in the essence of who we are that contains the tiniest shred of hope.

In the darkest of the days that seem to never end, when the spiral of nothingness clings to you like cement……..

We are nothing, we are everything, granted life, granted hope.

There will always be an end.

There will always be hope.




It is late, one can’t be expected to come with a decent title this late can they?

I am restless and unsteady. My thoughts, twisting down a thousand different paths and sleep is far off.

I take the GED test tomorrow, the math bit anyway. I finished the rest of it 6 years ago.

Six years is a long time to work up courage to defeat a few numbers but then I hate numbers the same way some people hate spiders….you toss a page of geometry at me and I will scramble on the nearest chair, scream and demand someone kill it, kill it with fire!

So many things going on in the world but I have my own problems and frankly the world has just gone over the bend, really, I check the news once or twice a week and am instantly overcome with the blues, but like Gary is always saying, “What can you do? You do your thing, you do it well and be happy despite it all”. I like that, I do try, but when you have kids it becomes so much more important, so I check the news and my eyes and ears swallow all that vile gunk and I wonder why anyone bothers to get out of bed in the morning.

But I know why though, I do really, in the moment I might not but then there are so many wonderfully beautiful things in this world and despite the fact that we humans seem to want to destroy everything, ourselves even,beauty exists anyway.

I wonder about negativity, I wonder why we focus so strongly on the bad, the ills, the depressing, in life in our own situations, in each other…….I do it, my soul is full of darkness right now, but I don’t like it. I am trying to change my point of view. It is surprisingly hard, truly happy, positive people are in such short supply.

I have heard it said that you can be happy even in the midst of the darkest times, I think that is true, but I would not use the word “happy”, happy is not the right word…..besides life would be so utterly boring if everything was right and perfect, so there must be some sort of balance.

I am rambling now.

I have a light blanket covering my legs and am sipping peach tea, a summertime favorite.  I love the summertime, it is too short though, much too short, the years grow shorter as we age? Why is that?

The children spend a considerable amount of time swimming and playing with cousins, but we manage school everyday just the same.

I was told so many years ago, when I was very, very young and about to be married, that I would regret not finishing school, not going to college, not spending some time, any time out and on my own. I would regret marrying so young. Later as our children started coming along I was told that I would regret having them all so close and I so young. I am approaching 30 and have been thinking on the advice given to me and thinking how very content I am in my role as a wife and mother. I am thinking now of going to school and studying something and maybe even getting a part time job. Something to help out our family. But I do not particularly want to, so I might not. I love being at home with my babies, I love teaching them, watching them grow, assisting them in their own journeys to adulthood.

I do not have any regrets in marrying so young or having my children close in age. I think all of that has worked out better then I could ever have dreamed.

I am lucky and blessed.

And I am still rambling.

There are things I need to say, things that must be written but even now I cannot manage them. They are for my comfort but I cannot pour them out.

I wonder at the blocks we erect in our minds, the pieces we shut off, shut down, hang a sign that reads, quite firmly, Closed.

I have hope for all of us, most days anyway.

I shall be happy, despite it all:)



something, something, wall

Have you ever stared at a page and the words all melded and blurred together to form some incomprehensible muddle? And your brain freezes up and you wonder if you might just be long over due for a nap, or perhaps a more reasonable hour of bed, say, anything earlier then midnight?

I am not entirely sure why blogging has become difficult.

I attribute it to a variety of things including, but not limited too Chantelle, that sweetheart  on two chubby legs who runs around investigating life with zeal, and Abby who is a precious saint who wants nothing more in life then to have anyone or someone to talk to her (and her bottle, she pretty much requires a bottle:)). There is homeschool and the house and the piles of laundry, there are six darling children between the ages of 5 and 12 who like me to chatter with them on occasion also, perhaps that is a good enough start but it doesn’t explain the mental block.

What do I  say?


Today we cleaned and learned, we played and worked. 

The end.

In truth I am too tired.

It is almost midnight and what I wanted was to crawl into bed with a good book and fall pleasantly to sleep. What I did was organize the childrens math for the next two weeks (because I am behind….as always) go over today’s school work, outline vocabulary words, helped Joff create a summer reading chart. Bathed babies and snuggled babies and talked to the kids as they fell asleep, fetched the requisite glass or twenty of water and thought longingly of bed, or maybe just having a little bit more awake inside of me.

It is interesting to me, this life of mine. I am a mother so very much and all the time, surprisingly or not I like it whole lot of lot. But sometimes I sit back and while thinking some new crazy thing, say to myself…..wait a minute….I am a mom….how weird is that?

Weird and wonderful.

In the end of course I do write, but I write on scraps of paper or my journal, thoughts get squeezed into corners of menus or Sunday newsletters……post it notes litter my headboard with abstract thoughts that come to me in the night and none of it makes it to the internet.

The words that bubble up and spill out release the need I have to express what I feel and then, written and visualized, I can tuck them away, store the words and feeling and thoughts and insanity away, because they have served their purpose and are no longer needed.

I am tired and am going to leave this thoughts unfinished.

But at least it is something.