I’m sitting in my mom’s kitchen, drinking coffee, listening to the rain and watching her cook breakfast. I slept like the dead last night. Seriously, I was in bed before 9pm and asleep before 9:30, I’m sure.

My plan was to be on the road back to Oklahoma by now.

But I’ve decided to just pause.

Interrupt all the busy, and the goings on in my brain, and just take this moment and be still. Here. In the kitchen. With my mom and the rain.

Everything will get finished. These test will be taken, and passed. This paper will be written and turned in. My voice will sound all academically smarty pantsy, and all will be good. It will be fine.

Yesterday’s experience was really quite amazing. I was trepidatious going in, but all of the cast was just as warm and energetic and accepting and we were all excited and ready to get this show on the road.

The show iteself, I believe went smoothly. There is a video. It will be posted at some point on YouTube. I’ll let you know when that happens. The audience was full, and generous with their laughter and applause,and oohhh’s and awwwww’s. It was fast paced and before we knew it it was over.

I saw my faces in the audience. My mom, and Bonusmom and Sister. Mindi Laverne got up early after being at the Thunder game screaming her fool head off the night before, and drove the 4 hours in. Cindy drove in that morning from Kansas City. Trish sent the most gorgeous flowers backstage. I was surrounded. Surrounded by these people who not only support and love me, but validate me as well.

As I was standing around talking and hugging, several people came up and doled out accolades. But one particularly tall red headed woman stopped and said, ” I want thank you for your story. Because your story…it my story. I’m so glad you were up there.”

Your story is my story.

Well, whaddya know, eh?

What an honor to have been a part of it. I am profoundly changed by the courage it took these women to write and tell their stories. I cannot wait for it to be online so that those of you who care to, can watch it.

I’m going to finish this coffee, and eat this hot breakfast that was set before me by my mom…and take a few moments to be grateful before we get back to our regularly scheduled program.

 

I’ve heard it said that we must know where we’ve been in order to know where we are going.

I think there is something to be said for that. Knowing our past, knowing the downfalls and the success stories, remembering, honoring, and moving forward.

I sit out here this morning with the dog who barks at every leaf that blows by, with my coffee, with an eye twitch that could really get me into trouble at a bingo parlor, and I’m gearing up to participate in today’s Listen To Your Mother event here in Arkansas.

I’m thinking about so many of us that love with our whole hearts, that bend and break and bruise with newborn fragility despite not fitting the status quo of being a Mother. I look back at the women in my life, in the lives of my friends, and I am more resolved that my story is perfectly at home today, amidst all of the others.

I will tell you, most of you know, that when I introduced myself at our rehearsal a few weeks ago, the little caveat “she’s not a mother” was added by another woman there. I’m one hundred percent sure it was not added with malice or with any kind of intent to exclude me from the group…but that’s exactly what happened. On a day where the group of women were meeting for the first time, feeling emotionally vulnerable, risking rejection with every “hi my name is”–that was the knife to the back.

My story IS the only story written by a non-mother. But the thing is…I HAVE a mother. So that counts for something, right?  I HAVE children in my life that are powerful beyond measure, that move me in ways I didn’t think possible. Yet another check mark in my column. And I know many women just like me. Several who are getting in their cars and driving consecutive hours in order to be in the audience and support me today. BOOM!

I’m so honored to be counted among the women in this group. I’ve heard their stories. I’ve thought about some of them over and over and over these past few weeks…just can’t shake their words. It’s going to be an amazing experience and I’m so happy that I didn’t let my own insecurities screw this up!

I’m also sending out an Atta Girl to my PseudoSis3.

Ya’ll…that girl has done some amazing work on herself this past year or so. She has started working out, dropped a ton of weight and inches and she is running her first half marathon as I type this morning back in OKC. I could not be more proud of her. She has truly become an example of what it means to change your life.

It’s the first year since I started cheering for the Memorial Marathon, that I’m not there on my corner with Martha clapping and shouting encouragement in the wee morning hours. Last year we stood for four hours in the freezing rain. This year it’s gorgeous, and I’m missing it. I know she’s just as sad that she’s not in my audience today. Mutual admiration society…that’s what we’ve got.

I look back a lot. I look back at where I was, and who I thought I was going to be. I see circles, endless circles. “I’m here again?” I see lines and curves and triangles and all the shapes in the world that lead me right here to this morning. I see where Maggie has been, and the beauty that is before her. She’s got more inner strength than I ever did at her age. What a bright bright tomorrow she has!

It’s a beautiful thing, really. Knowing where we’ve been. Looking forward to where we’re going. And knowing, that it’s all just as it should be.

Just as it is.

Finished the last of my official classes today. Done diddily done. I’ve typed up notes for one final, and need to finish typing up the others just so I can carry them around and study them at a moments downtime. Whenever that is.

Full day of hair today, tomorrow and Saturday.

Bartending a wedding tomorrow night.

Leaving for Arkansas Saturday after work.

Performing Sunday–will be onsite at venue starting at 11 ending around 4pm.

I really really need to come home after the show. That would give me some recoup time, and the ability to get up early and hit the library Monday morning to start writing my paper that really, should be half way finished by now and or by the weekend. Monday night is my Hemmingway/Fitz final and presentation. Tuesday at 1 is my Southern Women final. I can spend the rest of the day and night in the library or here at home writing. The paper is due by 3pm Wednesday.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Meanwhile, I’ve got to figure out what I’m wearing onstage, and make sure it’s clean. Do a little self tanning. Buy catfood. I could use an oil change but who the F has time for that? Maybe in the morning. Maybe I can knock both of those off in the morning. I don’t have to be at work until 11am. I had a reschedule.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

I stayed at Trish’s last night with her girls since they’re in Florida perusing prospective living conditions. I slept nary a wink nor a snore. SO…I should probably be hitting the writing tonight but instead I’ve had some wine and some melatonin and I’m hitting the sack. Praying for a mind that isn’t restless and a night full of really quality sleep.

This is the last week of the semester.

WTF???

Yup. Last week. Next week is finals.

This week I start work on my final paper. It not only is the last paper but it counts as my final in class.

This week is nuts. There’s something on my calendar every single day/night, culminating in the drive to Arkansas and the performance on Sunday that leads us into next week with finals and due dates and then I start my online class the following week.

buckle up.

I planted some four-o-clock seeds this morning, watered the garden, watched Mad Men from last night. Time to get some laundry done and get my room cleaned. I need to vinegar mop the floors. Then it’s time for class.

I’m grateful that I had an easy like Sunday morning Sunday.

 

 

For the first day in I don’t know how many I had nothing to do. No one to help. No obligations, or places I had to be. Nothing absolutely imminent that had to be finished today.

It’s been bliss.

I bartended last night, got home late, slept in with the cool breeze and the kitties. Glorious. Met friends for brunch and sipped poinsettias and had delicious crab cake and asparagus and eggs and saucy sauce.

Home was a nap that lasted several hours with above mentioned kitties and cool breeze.

It’s a rare moment that I can enjoy, without guilt, some free time.

a rare moment indeed.

How’s your Sunday?

After a lengthy meeting with my advisor, who told me, “I knew we’d talk so I scheduled extra time for us!”–after plugging in classes, marking off checklists…rearranging some things, talking some of the more disappointing things from this semester off of my chest…

Ya’ll…I have two classes this summer. A full Fall semester. And ONE CLASS plus my thesis and I GRADUATE IN MAY OF 2013.

SHIT THE BED.

I’m not going to worry about paying for it. And staying afloat.

I’m not going to worry about what next.

I’m not going to worry about what if’s and things that are out of my control.

Seriously.

Tonight, I’m not going to worry about it.

Could be because I’m exhausted from last night’s bout with insomnia.

Or…it could be because in as many days, the Universe has presented me with two brilliant, generous, connected, smart, amazing women who have both said, “I want to help you with your future.”

I lost two financial bounties, but I do believe that what I’ve gained in these two people?

Priceless.

Found out about one of the scholarships I applied for. It’s a no-go. Lots of competition with much younger applicants who have a freshy fresh loaded up with community service, awards, group memberships, et.al.

I was really hoping this one would come through and pay for the summer term. Oh well, I’m going to talk to financial aid today after my meeting with my advisor. Maybe something will come through!

Things will work out. I do know that. But the time between now and then….ugh.

I tossed and turned for three hours last night, then eventually just got up and watched an ep of Rescue Me. Went back to the bed about 4:30, tossed and turned and finally fell asleep between 6 and 7am. I am the epitome of a walking zombie this morning. Gulping coffee. Rearranging my brain to function as if it were fully formed and human.

How’s your brain today?

Well, I did NOT get the Teacher Assistantship. Remember when I found out about applying 2 days before the deadline and then I got scared and decided to not do it and then I found some balls and decided to apply and then I had computer issues and then I had to talk to someone the next day that helped me submit all of my information?

So. I didn’t get it.

My friend is really sad about it. I’m merely Meh. That’s not true. I’m disappointed but not surprised. It would have been quite an adventure and I was starting to get excited about it, but ok. Not going to happen this time around.  It’s just another variable that I was looking at. If someone does NOT take the assistantship they were offered, it could be offered to me. Or if there are several graduates in the Fall…more variables. The thing it means, really, is that I won’t be required to take that methods class in the Fall, and my schedule will stay the same. It also means that I won’t get my tuition comped. But, I’ve got applications in for scholarships and tuition-waivers, so I’m still hoping for those to come through. If those fail, more student loans.

I have my appointment with my infamous advisor tomorrow afternoon. We’ll play with my plan of study, juggle some more variables and see if I can’t wrap this thing up in three more semesters. Boom. I’ve got some specific concerns to address, mainly my sweet, really smart professor that I think maybe has the dementia. I don’t trust her. At all. So I don’t want her anywhere NEAR my thesis committee. I know I’ve gone through all of this before here, but it helps me to remain on point. Hopefully after my meeting tomorrow, I will have less juggling and more solid stuff in my game plan.

Today, I juggle errands, must get more ink for the printer. I’ve got three papers to print off and no ink. Flop. Must get groceries. I’ve got jar foods and canned tomatos. That’s it. Need to get another book out of the library for my big fat Brit Lit paper. Going to meet a friend this afternoon for some facetime. That’s my Tuesday.

Juggling time. Juggling variables. Just juggling…

 

Three more weeks. Two more of the semester, then finals week.

Can you guys believe I’m almost finished with my second semester of This Grad School Thing? How did THAT happen???

This weekend has been a series of great things and blessings.

The majority of my state survived all the tornados this weekend. Woodward got hit pretty hard with injury and 5 deaths. My heart goes out to that town. I’ve got clients who live there…

My house, my neighbors, friends, families’ houses didn’t sustain damage from wind or hail or rain so that’s a huge relief.

I spent time with the family, and though it was hectic (my sis and b-i-l are closing on their new home as I type so their everything is packed and their just chomping at the bit to get moving) and full of coughing (mom’s had that upper respiratory gunk we’ve all fought this year) it’s been nice. I wish I could stay here this week and help paint and move.

I did get a paper written while I was here. Everything that is due this week is written and just needs to be printed and stapled. I also got my reading for tonight finished.

It’s time to get up, get showered and get on the road and I just don’t WANNA!!!!! gah.

How was your weekend?

So it’s been a crammed weekend. Like I do it any other way, right?

What with the tornadic activity all across my state and into others, what with the impending deadlines for papers at school and work yet written, what with the first read through of the Listen To Your Mother Show, and meeting the group of mothers involved, what with being the only non-mother (which was succinctly added to my intro by another), what with living outside the radius of all the activity and goings on with the show, what with feeling desperately awkward and soooooo like the outsider in the company of these talented women…

to borrow from my mother and her mother before that…

My nerves are fucking shot.

Even the cocktail of horse tranqs and  night night juice that my mother gave me before bed didn’t help the sleeping. I kept waking up to check the radar and make sure my tribe hadn’t been blown to bits. I couldn’t get comfortable. I worked on papers or sang some lines from Spring Awakening on loop. I kept playing the read through over and over. Was I defensive? I’m usually good at meeting new people and it seemed just so…stilted. Was it just me or was there that imperceptible shift in the room when my womb activity was announced? Why am I even IN this damned thing anyway???

Kizz told me in no uncertain terms:

Whether or not that shift was real or made up in my scaredy-ass-no-one-will-like-me-mind…THAT is exactly why your story is valid. THAT is why it should be heard.

I’m not the only one marching in this army.

Mothering isn’t exclusive to shoving a body out of your whoo-ha.

I am in awe and immensely grateful to the women in my life who have done it, this raising children thing. I see some of them do it well. I see some of them do it not so great. I look for those women who light up when they see their children. I see the one’s who don’t.

The thing is…maybe my heart will never measure up to loving at the capacity as someone who has birthed, or adopted or raised a family. But I dare any one of them to tell me to my face that I don’t love as much or more because of it. Seriously. I dare you. Try me. I’ve been watching Sons of Anarchy. You decide.

Mothers are everywhere. Every shape. Every color. Every size. Every different name. Friend. Aunt. Teacher. Nurse. Step. Ex-Step. Not ever really a step but considered that anyway. We all love on that scale. We all give on that level.

Those stories are all valid. Those hearts are valid. That love counts.

Thick love.

Isn’t that what we all feel?

Fierce, thick love.

because as Sethe* says, “Love is or it ain’t. Thin love ain’t love at all.”

It’s going to be an amazing show, this Listen To Your Mother gig. The stories are funny and irreverent and moving and heart stomping holy shit I can’t listen to one more word it’s so good—good. I am refreshed with the new day, sitting on this deck looking at the trees listening to the rain. I’m excited and just so honored to get to share the stage with these stories. My insecurities are mine, and seriously when your 4 year old nephew doesn’t tell you goodbye, but instead looks up and says in his most heartfelt and sure voice, “may the force be with you…”

do you really need more affirmation that that?

 

*I'm still in my Beloved phase.