I obsess

Are you surprised?

I am wired to obsess and I am pretty good at it too.

My kids, my darling husband, my Spring Cleaning/We Must Downsize All The Things Now list, my grandkids, the upcoming biennial NRP recertification megapode test, my…



Just one of 456,789 reasons why I might obsess just a wee bit over my circus clowns because no matter how young or old your children are they always manage to scare the shit of you…which means today that the ER staff at our local hospital might hate me just a little bit. Mom…Nurse…Mom…Nurse Mom…I literally can’t separate the roles when it comes to my children and grandchildren when they are in the hospital. Don’t worry. She’s okayish now.

As for the rest of my circus act, y’all best not be up to any crazy shenanigans because I want to focus my energies on my latest obsession this week.

And for my kids who do keep score…yes, tonight your sister is the favorite child! But I do still love you all! Behave yourselves!

fifty four

The minute you’re born, you’re getting older.

~ Doris Roberts


Deal with it!

Today I have successfully completed fifty four years of waking up and living every single day. I’m celebrating.

But first, let me take a selfie.

No filters, no crazy edit app to to perfect365 the shit out of this face of mine to the point it looks so plastic that it’s laughable…I do laugh when I regard pictures like that which I see on social media, especially if I know you because WHY??????!!!!!! Pro tip: If you are posed in the picture with your darling significant other or your children it appears all the more fake. Better to stand in front of the sunny window of your kid’s room as I did this morning and smile.

I’m fifty four years old today and every damn day of this year and although I have no clue what the rest of today or this year will bring, I am going to do my very best to enjoy.

a dandelion puff

I was a dandelion puff…Some saw the beauty in me and stooped quietly to admire my innocence. Others saw the potential of what I could do for them, so they uprooted me, seeking to shape me around their needs. They blew at my head, scattering my hair from the roots, changing me to suit them. Yet still others saw me as something that was unworthy and needed to be erased.”
― Nicole Bailey-Williams

Look at my backyard right now.

Some see weeds. Fallon sees wishes…wonderful, magical wishes as far as the eye can see. I see a backyard lawn that needs to be mown. I also see itchy eyes and sneezing and me doubling up on Zyrtec. But, yeah, I see me, a dandelion puff. not unlike Nicole Bailey-Williams’ Song Byrd.

Truthfully, I didn’t think much about me, the dandelion puff, as I looked out my kitchen window until I saw this:

And then the words Lady Gaga shared when she posted this picture.

I never thought anyone would ever love me because I felt my body was ruined by my abuser. But he loves the survivor in me…

After trauma that steals and destroys so much of you, it’s easy to believe in your unworthiness; easy to allow others blowing at your head to shape you, change you, direct you to just get over it, damaging you even more…making you see yourself as all the more unloveable, acceptable, unworthy.

Till it happens to you, you won’t know, it won’t be real.

Like Gaga, like those on stage with her last night, like so many others, I stand tall and strong, like a dandelion puff, albeit windblown, but strong as survivors are because love…unconditional love that saw that which is beautiful and strong and perfect within me.

Me, the dandelion puff.

Seeing me taking pictures of all the dandelions in our backyard, my darling husband, the one who loved damaged me for me, mowed the lawn. One might imagine after my brief, emotional moment of clarity that I would be upset that he mowed down all the dandelion puffs but I’m not. They’ll be back standing tall and proud…as survivors do.

that which I can control

Talking with a friend the other day about running, I admitted that this last month I stopped, at least for now, and replaced it with the 30 Day Yoga Challenge.

But don’t you miss it? You LOVED running.

I do, I confess. But I needed the break at least for now while I regard my nearly 54 year old body that doesn’t like to do or flat out just won’t do what I want it to do anymore. In my imagination I might not ever be a cranky, crotchety, old lady but my body sure is feeling like it lately.


Getting older might make one bolder and wiser but it sure isn’t all fun and games…especially after getting off of a long 12 hour shift where one is holding a 10 pound patient, screaming in withdrawal pain, as you walk the floor of the unit for the majority of the shift. I know, it’s not at all as much fun or back-breaking as moving an immobile, incontinent 300 pound patient to change the bedding like my cousin tells me she was doing that same night. Still, it does a number on the body.

And after 25 days of this 30 Days Yoga Camp, I am all the more aware of all of this and more. The ridiculousness that is me trying to get into a garland pose or crow or heron or camel poses makes me all the more mindful of flexibility and strength that is there…and that is not there. The mantra yesterday, for Day 24, was I Am In Control, and, truth be told, I laughed a little as I focused on those words.



I am in control.

I certainly LIKE to be in control.

I absolutely have control issues.

I was probably born that way…or at the very least, developed control issues at a very young age.

I absolutely want to be in control.

But working on this practice through the month, and especially after this week, this not great at all week, I know that I am not, nor will I ever be in the control that I want to be…not with my mind, my body, my aching old lady joints, my family, and on and on…

This sucks, I think to myself as I flow awkwardly from triangle to warrior 1 to plank to cobra to down dog to table to child’s pose.

Trust me. So. Much. Awkward.

But settling into child’s and regulating my breathing to a much more relaxed position, I compliment myself on how much better I went through that flow than I did 20 days ago. I mean, I did not fall down…not at all.

I do have control!  Like my life, it’s not control over all the things. It never will be…just as it never has been. That’s okay, I tell myself as I eventually end in corpse pose. And before I doze off, as I sometimes do in this restorative position, I say the mantra…the revised mantra…I am not in control…and that is more than okay.

Namaste, bitches!


this one time at yoga camp…

Nineteen days into my 30 Day Yoga Camp and one thing I can honestly say is that I am gaining a whole new respect of what my body can do and what i can no longer do.

Folding forward, resting my elbows on the mat in between my legs straddled…barely…not really…I pause and reflect on the fact that my achy hips won’t let me really straddle and the reality that as my 54th birthday approacheth I am no longer middle aged…more like past middle aged, which means my parents really are old and yes, means that I am getting older too and this body of mine is getting older and that really kind of sucks. Then again, here I am, on the floor, legs spread wide…kind of, sort of, barely…and I am folded forward in-between them with my elbows resting easily on the mat in front of me. Not bad, I tell myself as I slowly exhale and lean even more into this pose and rest my forehead on top of my forearms. Not bad at all.

Today’s mantra was I Respect and yes, I am learning a whole new respect for me…the me that I am…right here, right now.

Oh, and, I have all kinds of respect for the me that earned this medal.

A medal earned for doing perhaps more work than this girl has done.