It's just me. Again.

I considered a post about my diet a few weeks ago but work and a blooming toddler quickly take my mind off of personal creativity. She wrote about her own situation and it encouraged me to jot my thoughts down before I type another report or change another diaper. It's amazing how quickly the brain fails after 30 a baby. So here it is. A few of my friends have commented about my weight. Of course these are the closest friends because no friend on the fringe would dare broach the subject. Fringe friends don't talk about issues unless it's the canceling of a beloved show or a new hair style hot on the market. Discussing anything deeper would only elicit sharp glances with piercing eyes. "I don't get it!" He said. "You drink water all the time, you don't really eat that much .... I just don't get it!" He's right. I do drink water all the time. And when it comes to normal food, normal meals, and regular portions in public ... I am

My rings have temporarily been set aside. It was excruciating to take them off but necessary to keep working. During this season of gardening and weeding, a large blister formed just above the two bands on my right hand. I placed them in the jewelry box that my grandfather made and closed the small drawer with a bit of sadness in my heart. I enjoy wearing those rings. The first one is from 1940. It was my grandmother's wedding band. I knew the age difference was significant between my grandparents but it wasn't until I was in my 20's that I heard the whole story. She eloped! He was the 40 year old neighbor and good friend to her father. She was the oldest girl of 6 children and only 19 when they fell in love. Her father was against them and after they married he didn't speak to her for 2 years. They wanted children of their own but couldn't conceive until 8 years later when they had my mother, an only child. The second band was my mother's. She and

Like a bottle of italian dressing some spices that settled to the bottom have been stirred up. Shaken. Makes for a better flavor but all that stuff at the bottom was calm and complacent. An easy way to exist. But my italian dressing doesn't taste good right now: :After saying to my husband, "Not in public!" he immediately replied that he doesn't like living two different lives and would rather just BE. :A dear friend being honest and brave enough to tell me I've become too comfortable in solitude and distance from the people I love. :Realizing I am much more like my mother than I would like. In weight, in reactions, in photos, in struggles. :Concluding that if I don't want to be like my mother I should probably do things differently than she did. *Put down the donut, Jacqui!* :Being very aware of how quickly I go from loving to bitchy. :Acknowledging that my perfectionist tendencies stop me from working on projects. :Deciding that the kitchen floor doesn