Monday, December 28, 2009

Fighting for Peace

There are so many loose ends in my life. So many projects left incomplete and goals that have not been met. There are people I need to call and favors I need to return. The loose ends that bother me the most are the relationships that have not been defined. What do my old boyfriends think of me? Where do I stand with friends who have simply lost contact? What about that person who never apologized?
Sometimes I want to fight for peace in my relationships. I fight for it in my dreams. I wonder if their good opinion still stands. I wonder if there is anything I can do to change it. Most of all I wonder if it even bothers them, like it bother me.
Part of me wishes I was brave enough to fight for peace.
Part of me thinks I should let sleeping dogs lie.
I know I can't live in the past.
This war (like many) has no clear end in sight.
If there is nothing left there to save, is it worth the battle?
Maybe Peace is found in the words left unspoken.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Thunder Thighs

I have big thighs. They are really the only large and voluptuous part of my body. Some people would say I am pear shaped, but I lovingly refer to them as my thunder thighs. They are strong and large. They jiggle a little when I dance. They are the only place I ever gain or lose weight. One thing I have always hate most about them are three small stretch marks I have on the very top of each thigh. I used to wear shorts over my bikini just to cover them.

My son has big thighs. They are deliciously chubby. He is 8 months old, and his body looks tiny compared to his huge legs. I like to call them Spartan legs. His soft skin folds in strange places over the baby fat. I love them. I love to kiss them. He loves when I pretend I am eating them like corn on the cob. He kicks them excitedly when I make him laugh.

And now my own thighs don't seem so bad. Those three tiny stretch marks are nothing compared to the wrinkly mess my stomach is in after pregnancy. My wide hips are perfect for carrying a baby around. My curves make me feel like a woman. I am glad my son inherited my thunder thighs. He will need strong legs to stand on, in this world.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

We'll dance

The long week drifts away.
As we come together,
At the end of the day.
Your sould grasps my eyes.
We laugh together,
All my regret dies.

You say:
"Brush away your tired eyes,
Wipe the work from your hands,
We've both had our rainy days,
Take my hand,
We'll dance."

Dancing away in the moonlight,
Blow off our worries with a kiss.
And in your arms the whole world feels right.
We're both smiling; no fears,
You pull my body close to you,
and softly whisper in my ear,

You say:
"Brush away your tired eyes,
Wipe the work from your hands,
We've both had our rainy days,
Take my hand,
We'll dance."

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Older Couple

Everyday when I drive to pick up my son,
this older couple is out walking.
The man is tall and balding.
His thick rimmed glasses take up half his face.
The woman is small and hunched over.
Her one leg curls in slightly and she hobbles more than walks.
Everyday they are out walking;
She has her cane in one hand and her husbands arm in the other.
His arm works to keep her steady.
Everyday I watch them slowly make their way down the sidewalk.
It is their diligence that strikes me,
Their dedication to the routine.
It is the fact that he is always there for her,

steadying her stride,

holding her up,

supporting her.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

To my son

To my son:
What does life have in store for you?
Your world is full of possibilities,
Right now you can barely hold my fingers,
but some day your hands will do something incredible.
What kind of dreams will you create?
Right now you wobble around trying to crawl,
but some day your strides will be strong and confident.
Where will your steps take you?
What kind of man will you become?

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Fake it

It is a rainy day and I feel it in my heart,
I feel like no one truly sees me,
Maybe no one is really looking...
Even with my telephone book of friends and my busy schedule, the lonliness is there.
Maybe we are all just faking it:
Faking that we know someone when we really don't,
Faking that we are happy when we aren't,
Faking that we are better people then we really are,
Faking orgasms,
Faking sick,
Faking intelligence.
Sometimes I play the part I know people want me to play,
So yes, I fake it.
Maybe that is why my heart feels so cold and soggy today.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

A Woman

Women:
We contain all realms of weakness,
We contain all realms of strength.
We are easily dismissed,
Yet so strikingly important.
With my femininity,
I can get what I want,
Make a man think twice.
With one flash of my eyes,
I can make him fall to his knees.
With the sway of my hips,
I can turn his head.
It is a man’s world,
But I’m glad I am a woman.

Monday, October 12, 2009

Musicals

I have a fondness, an obsession actually, for musicals. I think life would be so much more interesting if people burst into song during the day. There would be far less violence, if gang fights were like the ones depicted in West Side Story. There would be far less broken hearts if love relationships could be solved by singing a duet together. And let’s face it, what party isn’t livelier with some singing and dancing?

If I could live in a musical for one day I would wake up singing, “Oh what a beautiful morning.” I would hop in the shower and sing “I’m gonna wash that man right out of my hair.” I would grab my umbrella and come up with some impressive dance moves on my way to work. At the end of the day, I would get my pay check and sing “If I were a rich man” all the way home to cheer myself up. That evening, I would listen while my husband sang some beautiful sonnet to me before we made love and hum softly as he drifted off to sleep.

Musicals get a bad wrap because they are unbelievably corny, but with all the depravity surrounding us, a little more corniness is just what we need. And who says women can’t be wooed by music- it has worked on me in the past. Who says conflicts can’t be resolved through singing? Isn’t that the origin of rap music?

If only the Lord had given me a beautiful singing voice I would storm the stages of Broadway. Instead I am a car singer. Instead of Broadway, I have the open road as a stage; my Honda is my audience. I’ve sung back up to some of the hottest artist in my car.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Complete

You complete me.
My weaknesses,
completed in your strength.
My uncertainity,
steadied by you, unwaivering.
Your hands, firm and careful,
Complete my hands, gentle and sure.
Your arms are filled by my body.
Your lips fit perfectly with mine.
Your body is firm and strong,
my body is soft and lovely.
And when you hold me,
my body feels even softer.
I mold into you.
I complete you.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Naive Again

Sometimes I feel like I’m still a naïve little girl. I remember very clearly my first few months of college. Until that point, everything I had learned had been based around the confining walls of my private school, where everyone knew my name. I remember times I would innocently sleep in the same bed with one of my guy friends and nothing would happen. I thought all men were like that. I thought it was normal for guys and girls to be just friends, without ever getting involved.
Those first couple months out of high school were rough for me. I felt like the whole world was so different from how I had originally seen it. I had trouble placing boundaries between friendship and something more. I think I may have broken a couple hearts. I was shocked to discover how many men really just wanted to get in my pants. In movies, the “players,” are obvious to spot. In real life the roles of player, good guy, and bad guy aren’t so clear.
After 6 years in the real world and 4 years of marriage, I have learned so much more about male/ female relationships. Still occasionally something happens and I feel 17 again, wide-eyed and naïve. I like to think I am an assertive successful woman, but I don’t always feel that way. I’d like to say I completely understand men, but I am always being surprised. It seems I am always being put in my place.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Teenage Girls

I wish I could go back in time and tell my teenage-self some words of wisdom. I wish I could tell all teenage girls a thing or two. I look back at the silly things I did back then, the hours I spent and pimples I accrued stressing about boys or friendships.
I wish I could tell my teenage-self everything WILL be okay.
You WILL find a guy who loves you.
You WILL figure out a career that suites you.
Your 5’8” height won’t always bother you,
in fact you will wear high heels almost every day.
I wish I could tell her that if you have to work that hard to get a man, it will be even 10 times harder to keep him. To always put your girlfriends first; they are the ones who will stand by you, even when you make mistakes.
I wish I could tell her that she’s beautiful. I wish I could make her pay attention in class more. I wish I could let her know that it’s okay to go ahead and kiss that boy- one little kiss won’t ruin your life.
Knowing her, she would only half listen to me anyway. I guess every generation has to learn their own path.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Moments

I like to collect little moments in my life.
Small pieces of time that are beautiful on their own.
There is nothing I would change- it's perfect.
I collect these moments in my memory and they comfort me in troubled times.

Last night I had one of those moments.
I was sitting on the couch in my pajamas.
It was a beautiful night.
My son was playing in the middle of the living room.
He rubbed his eyes and reached his arms up to his dad.
He wanted to be picked up.
My husband grabbed him and started flying him around the room.
A look of wonderment and happiness filled his face.
I watched them playing and smiling.
They were unaware I was their audience.
As I watched them I realized- they love each other.

That moment was...perfect.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Nap Time

It is amazing how being a mom changes you, even in the subtle ways.
I love my personal space. I don’t like anyone to touch me when I am sleeping. I’m not big on cuddling… well sometimes it is nice. My husband will always be pushed off me when it comes time for me to fall asleep.
When my son was born, I was so exhausted one day we both fell asleep while I was holding him on the coach. It was the best nap. My son fit so perfectly in the fold of my arm that it became our morning habit. He would wake me up at 6am so by 9 we were both ready for a nap. We would lay on the coach, I would turn on The History Channel and we would fall asleep for several hours just snuggling. Even now, I occasionally take a little snooze with my son. I couldn’t sleep with him every night like some moms do. I still like having my space, but every now and then, nothing beats a cuddly nap with my son.
Some days when work has me all stressed out, I think about snuggling on the coach and looking down at this little peaceful dreamer.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Beautiful Night

“It’s a beautiful night for falling in love” I said,
And then we laughed because it sounded corny.
But there you were…
More handsome then the day we met,
Walking our dog beside me,
And I am pushing our beautiful son.

We do this every night,
But tonight I am grateful,
Tonight my heart beats strong,
And my hand reaches for yours.

It is a beautiful night,
And I’m falling in love all over again.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Pennsylvania in the Fall

Fall is coming. It is hard to explain Pennsylvania in the fall. It is my favorite time of year. When I lived in Virginia, they had mountains with trees that changed color. The crisp fall air would blow in, but still I missed my Pennsylvania. There is something in the air here during autumn. Everyone is giddy. Like I said, I can’t explain it.

With that first rush of cool wind kisses my cheeks, I am ready to kiss summer goodbye and plunge into autumn head first in love. Maybe it is memories of playing football, or hiking down leaf-covered trails. Maybe it is just pulling out my sweaters and knitting needles. Maybe it is having someone to snuggle under a blanket with. Summer makes me restless, but fall always makes me want to fall in love and settle down.

I met my husband on an evening in the fall. We walked across the Walnut Street Bridge into the city. The lights on the bridge were shining. The air was cold and I wrapped my hand around his arm for warmth. He kept looking up at my city with fascination. I wasn’t looking for a long term relationship. I was 18 and just wanted to have fun.

I think something in the weather told my heart “It’s time to settle down.”

Thursday, September 10, 2009

The day I became a mother

I wish I could remember every moment of the day I became a mother. But like so much of our past, we only remember bits and pieces. We forget the things we want to forget and glorify the parts we do remember. That is probably why I look back at my labor day and smile.

I remember the beginning to vividly. I was so full of happiness and anticipation when we went into the hospital. When they broke my water I laughed because I felt like I was peeing my pants. My mother, my husband and I walked the halls back and forth until the labor became so strong I couldn’t walk anymore.

The rest of my labor is a blur. I focused all my energy internally, oblivious to the fact that I was completely naked most of the time. Oblivious to the funny things I was saying. I was so internally focused on the task at hand that the following hours were a blur of intensity and pain.

Blesson was 9lbs. 14oz. and pushing him out of my body was the hardest thing I ever did. The moment he took his first breath, I remember vividly. I remember the midwife placing him on my chest as he cried and gasped for air. As I held him and spoke to him, he opened his eyes and looked right at me and stopped crying. Everything else that happened in that room faded away. At that very moment, something inside of my changed and I was a mother. As soon as I looked in my sons eyes, I fell in love.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Sunday Mornings

You fill my mornings,
Warm, slow and sweet.
Eyelashes rise, opening,
Awakened by your sunshine kiss.
Your eyes are the morning sky:
Full of colors, clean and new,
Rising to a brand new day.
Fresh breeze on my cheeks,
Sunbeam fingers through my hair.
Your smile warms me,
And pulls me out of my sleep.

Friday, September 4, 2009

Attempting a Blog

Last night my good friend, Brian, suggested I start a blog.
So cautiously, thoughtfully, timidly I submit my first post.
not because I in anyway do everything that my friends suggest,
not because I have some vast amount of information to share with the world,
I am starting a blog to stretch myself and feed my craving for writing and passion.
Which to me are one in the same.

I have always squirreled away my thoughts in spiral notebooks
that not even my husband has read,
because they are my personal thoughts and feelings-
no one elses.
They are mine to share or hide.
Usually I choose to hide them,
to protect myself from ridicule,
To safeguard from feeling insignifcant.


And now I cautiously, thoughtfully, timidly submit this blog,
peeling away layers of my safeguards,
allowing tiny peeks at what lies beneath.