Rough Draft-WOOSH

Just sharing a different variety of my insanity!

WOOSH

WOOSH-my water broke. Standing outside bending down to put Oreo on his chain. What the hell just happened? Oreo looks at me, I look at him, he steps back and gives the amniotic fluid a sniff. Life is about to change as we know it. 

He is not supposed to be here for two months! My water could not have possibly broken. His nursery is not ready. WOOSH-in the name of … it keeps coming! I didn’t finish birthing class yet and I didn’t read about this in What to Expect…oh shit…AGAIN! It is like a flood is bursting forth from my vagina. Hmmm-I need to call the Doctor and I need to clean up.

“What do you mean I have to come in? I realize my water broke, but you see his nursery is not even ready yet…did I mention he is not supposed to be here for two whole months?”

Trickle
Trickle

Trickle….is my amniotic sac the size of Texas? So apparently “cleaning up” is out of the question. This will work, waddling around, towel, nay, bath sheet between my legs throwing together my bag. I might add I am usually always prepared and very punctual, but he is two months early. I have to call Heather.

“Happy 21^st Birthday Little Sister-You are going to be an Auntie!”

Grab towel and husband, head towards car. Now I am sitting on towel in addition to bath sheet between my legs. OMFG-my back, my back-back labor! I really wish I would have finished the damn Lamaze class-OHHHHHHHHHHHH. Oreo is officially hiding under the bed, he is not much of a swimmer.

Breathing
Breathing
Not breathing-holding my breath!
Jesus oh Jesus-please help me!

I wave to my Lamaze class as I am being wheeled into the Birthing Center. “Hi Guys-I won’t be in class-we are having the baby!” Cheers and claps from my fellow classmates. I am not ready. I am so not ready! Down the hall, in my pink Mommy dress, my vagina randomly spurting liquid like the upper geyser basin at Yellowstone. This is the cold hard truth, this is happening. I don’t think I am wearing shoes. I can’t see my feet but I am pretty sure I have socks on, but no shoes. On the table.

Breathing
Breathing
Back labor-really? I was not prepared for this either. Holding my breath.
Clenching

Clenching-holding onto that railing of the bed. I am going to break the bed. I am transforming into She Hulk and I am going to rip the railing off the bed. Not prepared for back labor…OHHHHH!

Monitor-hearing his little heart beat. Beating so fast. This is my calm. This is my game changer. Everything is going to be fine, listening to his little heart beat. It doesn’t matter that it feels like a

vintage rail road spike is being hammered into my back or that I can’t see my feet, my precious boy is coming. Must remember to breath.

Woo hoo –Mr.  Intern I am not sure what you are doing between my legs with that test strip however if you could refrain from looking repulsed that would be a plus. I think he must be going into sports medicine or something because it would appear that he is turning green. I am simply giving birth here people, nothing new or unusual. Could we get a real Doctor in here-please?

Ultrasound-I love ultra sounds. First he started out as a little spot. He morphed into a turtle, some people thought he resembled a squirrel, whatever the case he was my beautiful boy. The boy part was obvious. Very hard to miss. My turtle had a penis for sure!( Ultra sounds were not all 3D and fancy when I had my boy-now you can see little faces and hands, so beautiful) “Huh-he is breach? Well we can work with that right? His umbilical cord is wrapped around his neck-he needs to come out now?” I am having a C-section. TOTALLY did not get to this part in Lamaze class, actually I think that is what we were covering tonight-DOH.

My sweet boy is here! They had to whisk him off to the neo natal unit. I didn’t get to hold him for three days. On the third day when they placed him in my arms all I could do was cry. Tears of joy, he was the most beautiful thing in the world. On the third day he became bigger and better, most certainly because he finally got to be where he was supposed to be-in my arms.

Happily ever after does exist, he is my living proof. I thank God every day for my Michael.

Rough Draft-Creative Writing Class-That is Not Iceseptabill

That is Not Iceseptabill

Wait Wait Wait

It’s All I Ever Do

Having a baby brother isn’t so much fun

Your don’t believe me? Well it’s true!

Once upon a time the world evolved around me

Now it evolves around Him

Wait Wait Wait

It’s All I Ever Do

He is gooey and sticky and sometimes he even smells like poo

I really don’t know what Mommy was thinking

I am pretty sure this is her fault

I think me and Daddy would have been happy with a puppy

He is allergic to cats so that idea was out

This is NOT Iceseptabill

What happened to my life?

Once upon a time I was the Princess of the World!

Life was like rainbows and ice cream before this kid was born.

Now my life is like a bowl of endless spinach and I have a little troll following me around!

This is Not Iceseptabill!

Maybe Mommy wouldn’t notice if I traded him for a dog?

Feedback:

Hey Laura, I enjoyed your poem That is Not Iceseptabill when your originally wrote it, but your revision is better. The addition of, "Life was like rainbows and ice cream before this kid was born.Now my life is like a bowl of endless spinach and I have a little troll following me around!" (Dailey, 2014), was the part I like the best. It adds a description of what a child assumes is the worst thing ever, spinach, and compares it to the terrible little brother she has gained. Also finding out that the child is a girl, gives the character more definition. As a older sister, later she might assume the role of taking care of her brother like a doll baby. Reference Dailey, L. 2014. That is Not Iceseptabill -Tiffany

Rough DratfCreative Writing-ALIVE

Greetings-

Thought I would share something a little more personal from the creative side of me.

ALIVE

The July heat was sticky and heavy, not only did the weather weigh heavy on her but her  world felt as if it were crumbling around her, she was breathless and broken. “Please come, please help me.” He came without question-he came. Like a modern day knight in shining armor pulling a horse trailer behind that 91 F150. “Please come, please help me. I don’t know what to do.” Uncertain where they could go, how she could take care of them, when everything they knew was falling apart around them. Joshua was only four. How does a four year old process loss?  Infinite tears. Infinite screams. The first night that Joshua knew was the longest night of their lives. “Bobbo Bobbo-Bobbo Bobbo” , he whaled and screamed. Red cheeks, streaming tears, runny nose. “Bobbo Bobbo” “My heart breaking is one thing but how do you deal with the breaking heart of a child?” “You will make it and so will he.” Big and brawn, powerful yet so gentle, and he came. He came when no one else did.  Richard Bach once said, “The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect  and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.”a Just like Illusions, circling around a field in a bi plane, life is full of twists and turns, ups and downs, chance meetings and random encounters. That bond that Bach speaks of weaves tighter and more cohesively as  adoration grows stronger in sharing sorrows and tragedy in addition to those times of joy. II. Joshua watched as she fell. Crashing to the ground, her slight body looking pale and weak.  Foam coming from her mouth, blood pooling around her head. “Mama Mama-NO!” Silence- no words, no movement, just blood. “Mama Mama-Mama Mama wake up please!” tears well up in his big blue eyes. “911 911-hello. Can you please help my Mama?” “What is your name Sweetie?” “My name is Joshua Ma’am.  Mama is bleeding from her head. Please help me.” “Joshua are you by yourself?” “No-I am with Mama! Please help me.  I think she is going to be dead” sobs the sweet little one. “Honey how old are you?” “I am five.”  Perhaps she was mistaken, this would be the longest night of their lives,  at least the longest night of Joshua’s life.  “Little One I wish you could hear me. I am trying so hard to hold on.  I am trying to fight. Mama is trying my little one…”     Her eyes open, she is in pain. Pain is good. Looking around she realizes she is in the hospital. Pain means she is alive. “Where is Joshua?” She can’t sit. Tubes, machines, throat parched, “I am alive”.  IV taped to her frail hand, her skin almost transparent. Drip Drip  Drip As the morphine kicked back into overdrive, as it crawled  into her veins. She faded away. ‘Stay Gold Pony Boy’b. Melting into the bed- ALIVE. “Thank You God!” III. He came to her again without her asking.  He came and stepped in. Trying to hold a broken little boy together before he splintered into a million pieces. “You and your Mom are going to be ok. You and your Mom are going to make it. The Doctor’s are going to fix her up as good as new.” Joshua looked up at him with his big blue eyes, not certain. “Buddy you have to eat something. Do you want a hamburger?” “No” “How about some chicken nuggets?” “No” “How about a pbj?” “NO (the little one pauses) thank you.” He pauses again and looks into the man’s brown eyes and wrapped his hand  around the man’s finger. The man’s hands were so big compared to his own or even Mama’s all he could do was hold his finger.  “I just want my Mama”. IV.      The F150 has been changed to an electric lime Bronco, which makes the man a pretty psychedelic modern day knight. He brought Joshua to his Mother and they took her home.  They nursed her back to health and truly became that family, not all of blood, but of joy and respect . Of admiration and ups and downs. No piece of paper binds them, they are a family built upon love and choice. It hasn't all been happily ever after, but it has been real and it has been solid.  In sickness and in health, to have and to hold- he came when she called, when no one else did, and he never went away. Reference/Footnote a-Richard Bach (1977) Illusion: The Adventures of A Reluctant Messiah. b-SE Hinton (1967) The Outsiders. Feedback: Dear Laura Let me just say that I was on the edge of my see reading your fictional piece.  I was captivated from the very first line. It reminded me of a Twilight Zone movie.  The central idea appears to be lost, dread, desperation, fear, and strength.  The fist part of the piece is desperate.  Especially when the little boy is on the phone with the 9-1-1 operator.  The language is absolutely effective and it created a pretty precise image.  The point of view of the piece is love comes in all shapes and forms, and family is important.  I'm not sure about the ending. I'm mean it's a happy ending which is good but it just started out  so bleak and was expecting it to end that way as well.  So i guess you can say that i was a tiny bit disappointed.  The beginning really excited me but the ending, for me was somewhat lackluster.  However, I still think it was a good piece but I personally wanted it to end a little darker. Andria Good evening Laura, I read through your piece more than once and each time  I found another nugget to chew on and consider.  I found the style in which you chose to write this story went  well in hand with the way a person might feel if they had been in  an accident and coming to.   Your characters were developed in so much as it was easy to understand  the desperation that they were feeling especially the woman and her little boy. It is easy to appreciate how a person who has been injured would look at the person rescuing them as a knight in shining armor. I smiled at the modern day knight  showing up in his F150 pulling a horse trailer… it was romantic and delightful all at the same time. She was ALIVE and she appreciated the knight taking care of her little boy, urging him to eat when all he wanted was his Mama.  I am a big fan of Richard Bach’s work and in fact am looking over at my bookcase at one of my personal favorites that he wrote entitled One, and your reference to him was a bit confusing if someone has never read his work. Just a note that you might want to expound on this note and invite your reader into Bach’s world just a bit more as you relate it to the main  characters in your story. The ending, again although good,  seems a bit dis-jointed to the story itself. If I may suggest perhaps giving your knight a name and maybe giving  him more of a story, his love for the main character  and how he came to be a center point in the life of the woman who  almost died and her little boy. Excellent work. Thank you for sharing! Rachel

It’s Complicated

It’s Complicated

Greetings-

“One of the options for "Relationship Status" on Facebook. Refers to a couple in an ambiguous state between "friends" and "in a relationship". May also be used to indicate dissatisfaction with an existing relationship.

If someone changes their status from "In a Relationship" to "It's Complicated", expect them to be "Single" and "Looking for Random Play" soon.” (Urban Dictionary)

A Facebook relationship status, where an individual is not happy with their current relationship, and is willing to tell the world how frustrated they are with their significant other or lack thereof.

This can also mean that one is involved in multiple relationships. Or their significant other is a whore and complicated the relationship, but being with several people at once

Well how's your girlfriend Jim?

"She’s ok, I just wish she weren't dating three other guys while dating me too." It's complicated (Urban Dictionary).

It’s complicated - any relationship that's not OK.

Who ever said this relationship thing is easy? Life is full of complications.

“When people feel trapped by their current circumstances, but still do not want to ruin their relationship, cyberspace may offer a parallel world in which things are better. Time spent in that world can help them preserve their actual world, while not giving up on having exciting, even emotional experiences. Living within the two worlds is not easy, however, and may become increasingly risky when people do not realize the limitations of each” (Ben-Zeev, 2008).

I am really simply in awe of the fact that I am up in the middle of the night writing this-Dumb Ass.

“People, consciously or not, consider their online sexual relationships as real—they experience psychological states similar to those typically elicited by offline relationships. Accordingly, cybersex is not merely a conversation about sex, but a form of sexual encounter involves experiences typical of other encounters, such as sexual arousal, masturbation, orgasm, and satisfaction. Indeed, people consider cybersex to have a high degree of psychological reality—but many do not consider it to be morally real (Ben-Zeev, 2008).

It is morally real and morally wrong.

In the online realm I have used every relationship status possible in order to be left alone. I have been married. I have been a lesbian. These options seem to entice more so than simply being single. Like really Mr. Straight man if I were in fact a lesbian do you really think you are going to convert me? Dumb ass.

I have disengaged from the IM and the chat option. I obviously have a Facebook account. My Facebook account would indicate that I am married with children or grand-babies-probably both. If I have grand-babies, chances are I have children. Nothing more flattering than someone thinking I have a two year old. Hmmmm-maybe that is not flattery. Perhaps they just think I am insane (ha-ha says Agoraphobia Gurl)? On the surface I would appear to be happy. Guess what-aside from a few financial issues and this whole agoraphobia thing I am pretty happy. Life is pretty good. My life is filled with love. My life is filled with pretty amazing people.

“Sexual addiction is best described as a progressive intimacy disorder characterized by compulsive sexual thoughts and acts. Like all addictions, its negative impact on the addict and on family members increases as the disorder progresses” (Herkov, 2013).

Just something to think about…

If your relationship “status” has read- “It’s complicated” for over 10 years obviously something is missing from your life. If you are cheating on your spouse, obviously something is missing from your life. If you are staying in this relationship “because of the kids”-you might just be insane. When and or if they find out you have in fact cheated you have pretty much ruined them, after all you are the role model for your children. We want to role model healthy relationships and behavior. What are they seeing in the house right now? From this vantage point it doesn’t seem like they are witnessing anything close to loving or normal. When all is said and done, young or old-when you do divorce it is going to hurt them. Really it is never going to be easy or great, divorce isn’t.

I just want to point out MY LIFE IS PERFECTLY FINE-everything is peachy.

I really don’t care generally speaking about anyone’s business, I am all about harm none and being happy. Which brings me to the point. BE HAPPY.

“The most important thing is to enjoy your life—to be happy—it's all that matters.” ― Audrey Hepburn

Love and Light-

Agoraphobia Gurl

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.” ― Dr. Seuss

Reference

Ben-Zeev, A. (2008) Is Chatting Cheating? Psychology Today. Retrieved from https://www.psychologytoday.com

Herkov, M. (2013). What is Sexual Addiction? Retrieved from: http://psychcentral.com/lib/what-is-sexual-addiction/000748

 Urban Dictionary (2010) http://www.urbandictionary.com/

Blurred Lines

Greetings,

I was conversing with my Sister today and we were talking about boundaries. In having agoraphobia I “bond” inappropriately-however I have caught myself and have tried to rectify the problem. No more “bonding” with Physical Therapists and other people I have a “professional” relationship with. When one rarely goes out into the world it can be a lonely place.

I am not perfect. I found my Doctor-my ex Doctor-he moved to Texas, and if you follow me, you know that. Well, I found him on Facebook. I debated and debated-do I send the friend request? I did. I am pretty sure he is ignoring it, and I have to let it go. He was my Doctor not my friend. I was feeling vulnerable, I have been with him for a long time, and his old office had called to try and set up an appointment with his “replacement”. I use that term loosely as no one could ever replace him. I told the office I would not be returning because it is stupid to go that far, I am sure I can find someone else closer-however the nurse informed me that they would be removing me from the call list and removing Doctor Vacek as my Primary Caregiver- I did a slow motion-“noooooooooooo”, and she giggled at me. I said “not acceptable- he is still my primary”. She again giggles, “He can’t be your primary-he lives in Texas”. Damn it. Maybe he didn't notice my friend request…..like I said. I am working on it.

As a teacher, as a preacher- when and where is it ok to cross these lines? How far can we cross them? When I was a hottie bartender in Delavan people would follow me home, or wait for me outside after I closed the bar. Having creepers pull up on a Monday morning while I am standing outside with my child waiting for the bus to pick him up-seriously crossing lines. In the event that you didn't know this-stalking your bartender and hitting on her outside of her home in front of her child is not endearing in any way shape of form. It is just creepy.

Boundaries exist to protect both the professional and the client, whomever that client may be. Teacher –parent relationships, Pastor-parishioner relationships-it is all a very slippery slope. Boundary violations can harm everyone involved. Professional boundaries define effective and appropriate interaction between professionals and the public they serve.

“Having clear boundaries is essential to a healthy, balanced lifestyle. The purpose of having boundaries is to protect and take care of ourselves. A boundary or limit is how far we can go with comfort in a relationship. It delineates where I and my physical and psychological space end and where you and yours begins” (University of Southern California Center for Work and Family Life, N/A).

“A mentor once told me that pastors are to be friendly, but should not become friends with the parishioners. This reflection reminded me of those words she once shared with me. There is a difference between being friendly and become friends - two things that the comments to this article seem to miss. I believe - and have experienced - that being a friendly pastor is healthy for the church and for my own self; but I my friends are outside of my congregation. Someone mentioned Jesus - duh! When I read the gospels, I read about Jesus' friendship with Martha, Mary and Lazarus; and I read about Jesus' love for his disciples. But I have not read about Jesus becoming friends with his disciples. In any case, I have lived by this... I try to be friendly and to love and to listen, and my friends and supporters are outside of my congregation (Santiago, 2012).

Boundaries exist in all aspects of our lives. We have professional boundaries, work boundaries, physical boundaries, and emotional boundaries. It is so much easier and clearer to define my physical boundaries and my physical comfort level-it is pretty much if you are over the age of 10 don’t touch me! Yeah-I am a work in progress. I am agoraphobic-my geographical comfort level is pretty much nonexistent. Some days I am not even comfortable in my own skin.

Time to go check Facebook…

Love and Light,

Agoraphobia Gurl

Reference

    University of Southern California Center for Work and Family Life (N/A). CREATING HEALTHY PERSONAL AND PROFESSIONAL BOUNDARIES. http://www.usc.edu/

    Santiago, J.M. (2012) Good Reminder. Retrieved from: http://www.christiancentury.org/article/2012-12/pastor-not-friend

Not Defined by Our “Bondo”

Greetings-

Yes-I really do know what Bondo is-and it is not because of Dean!

Some of my most favorite pictures are with the special people in my life, caught at random moments of silliness, playfulness, and love.

I posted a picture yesterday and was informed I need a make over-full on wax, hair, the works. Well, this is how I look at 5 am. I am good with it. I didn't post the picture for anyone’s approval. I posted the picture because I was spending the day with my little buddy (one of my little buddies) and he looked happy, maybe even joyful being with me. That is what I was capturing. That is what I was sharing.

“The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mode but the true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives the passion that she shows. The beauty of a woman grows with the passing years.” - Audrey Hepburn

We keep hearing about self- image, airbrushing, eating disorders, plus sized models being smaller than you average sized woman…but we can’t even be kind to others (this seems to be my theme lately). I have friends of all shapes and sizes. I have some friends that I have never seen wear makeup and that is ok. We are not defined by Cover Girl or Estee Lauder, we are not defined by acrylic nails or Botox. We are defined-or should be defined by what is inside. Who we are at our inner core. True beauty comes from within. True beauty is about soul and spirit.

“What you do, the way you think, makes you beautiful.” - Scott Westerfeld

The person who informed me of my need of an entire make over digressed when I removed her post and politely told her “I am sorry if you don’t approve of my appearance at 5 am, but I am cool with it” because I am. The beauty in that picture was about a moment-a beautiful moment. The person who made the comment tried to say “I was just messing around-I was just playing-I didn't mean it”. Which really was bullshit. At my age I know it when I see it. I might not always let on…that is another cool thing about being a little bit older. Some of us do become a little bit wiser.

“Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart. “- Kahlil Gibran

My light shines!

Love and Light-

Agoraphobia Gurl

I guess the moral of this was mean people suck but sometimes they can’t help it-they are just stupid.

“Like a lightning bolt, your heart will glow
And when it's time, you'll know
You just gotta ignite the light, and let it shine
Just own the night like the 4th of July
Because Baby you’re a firework!”

                                          -Katy Perry

To suck or to not suck....

Greetings-

A gentleman, like a real live living breathing gentleman started to help me on with my coat. I stood and looked at him in total confusion, not understanding WHY he was holding my coat. I am old enough to get this conceptually, but the actual act was baffling. I stood and looked at him like a deer in head lights-TRUTH. Some days I am like that proverbial bull in the china store-TRUTH. I lack total grace and tact at most moments-TRUTH. (Stop laughing friends and family). I “had” to dance with this Gentleman at my sister’s wedding, why do I say “had”, because this Gentleman could be on like Dancing with the Stars and I am still doing that 80’s back and forth shuffle-kind of like Carlton. I apologize if you do not get that reference. I am pretty sure I actually stepped on that man at my sister’s wedding and I can’t follow a lead….back to that lacking in grace thing.

I have been thinking about this for almost a full week now, I could think of one other Gentleman, he is a real live Southern Gentleman. I like Southern Gentleman, the accent gets me every time. When we actually got to meet for the very first time in person (he is a family friend-more like an extended relative) when he said, “It is so nice to see those pretty blue eyes in person” you could have knocked me over with a feather.

So we have established Stan and Dennis are Gentleman, and Sharon and Barb are lucky! (Both couples are WONDERFUL to each other and are blessed to have one another).

I have tried to raise my son to be a gentleman, to open doors for a lady, to Sir and Ma’am when appropriate, to treat women with respect, and hopefully I have been successful in this, for the most part I am pretty certain I have been.

So as I have been pondering the “what is wrong” with society today I have come to some conclusions. Good old fashioned values are really not dead, some of them have just been misplaced. In some cases as a woman, especially the modern soap box standing man bashing woman, (I am not a man bashing woman-furthest thing from) we thought we could and should put our own coats on, and open our own doors, and rid ourselves of all of those “antiquated” notions. I for one like those antiquated notions. I like a gentleman.

However this goes much deeper. What about community? What about family? Have you ever heard of a barn raising? Google it if not. Once upon a time neighbors helped out neighbors and friends and family took care of one another. Where did this “tradition” go? See I am contemplating the concept of a “Gentleman” when NO ONE is really taking care of one another. When someone is sick, you prepare a meal and deliver it. You say, “Hey you need me to pick up some toilet paper for you or your prescriptions?” Do something. When a person passes away it used to be, people would show up with a casserole or a Bundt cake. I have seen this only once happen in my life time as an adult and it was in Upper Michigan, maybe something is in the air that shows them how to behave properly. Southerners probably still do it.

This leads me to my next point. Apparently some people simply suck. Dear God- no one should ever feel alone or be alone in these circumstances-if you in fact KNOW someone who is sick, needs help, needs a ride and you are so self-absorbed that you can’t take time out of your precious life to make a Bundt cake-you probably do in fact suck.  If you suck-it is not too late to stop sucking. I have faith in you. It can be a phone call, a store bought Bundt cake, a fruit basket, or holding some ones hand. I think you can. I think you can. I know you can! If you opt to continue sucking…I guess that is your choice. However when you die alone don’t be too shocked.

I guess that wasn’t too “lady like”.

I am blessed. I am thankful for all of my blessings.

I am surrounded by loving people.

My Dad is a good man. He would give you the shirt off of his back, and has. At the drop of a hat he will stop whatever he is doing to help YOU out. Plus he is madly in love with my Mom.

Adam-aka “Dean” is amazing. Sometimes it is hard to correlate “Gentleman” with “Urban-redneck” or “Lumber sexual”-but he is a damn good man. Has he fixed your car? Plowed your driveway? Dropped everything for…whatever the hell you needed-probably.

I have sisters, I have friends-I am blessed!

The moral of the story-life is filled with “Gentleman” and “Ladies”. Life is full of “good” and “bad”. The choice is up to you-to suck or to not suck….

Love and Light-

Agoraphobia Gurl

On a side note- Steve Smith you are a true friend and have turned out to be a mighty fine example of a Gentleman. Thank you! It was a rollercoaster ride, but totally worth it.