Thinking Much Too Much

I have been pondering a few things lately about the motivations of mankind. I have been thinking about how we all struggle and search for connection, meaning, spirit, "God" and at some point the whole "Why am I here?" It is all validation. We need external validation for our own existence. The problem is that this causes some major problems in how we treat one another in order to further validate our point of view be it Christian, Moslem, New Age whatever. We all want to gather information that supports our own hypothesis of faith. But, if you begin to find your validation internally, and you take that drive for external validation away, then what?

I have been thinking about "what if..."

What if our physical bodies are designed in such a way that we gravitate towards what balances us. I mean, of course, after you strip away all of the superficial stuff that motivates us like money, power, status, appearanance...I mean in a way that is similar to how your body craves what it needs nutrition wise when you are not getting enough of something. What if that is the basic, underlying need of each of us and the part we play in the universe - balance. We are a part of this universe and when it gets out of whack we get restless and try to find balance. I don't think it is totally posible to consciously know what we need for balance. I think it is more like we need to let go of our conscious thoughts and attatchments to allow balance to happen. Just some stuff I am chewing on in my head...

I'll have plenty of time to investigate this further at Sesshin this weekend. I am looking forward to it. We begin Friday night with a two and a half hour meditation and then wake up at five in the morning to begin meditating for two and a half hour stretches with breaks and meals in between. Sunday will be more of the same. We have dharma talks in the evenings. Then we leave Sunday at 7pm and head home. I need this experience every six months. It is really good for me though it is extremely difficult. Physically it hurts to sit and meditate for that long. Mentally, it is so freeing and it opens me up to what feels like heaven on Earth. Aaah!

Anyhoo...

more to ponder at sesshin...

Last Sunday I had a major breakdown in my studio and this has caused a blockage of sorts. I ruined a painting. I used an adhesive that I was not familiar with and it foamed up and seeped through...and well...it is difficult to describe. I just can't take photos of it and post it right now because I am just soooooo bummed about the whole thing. So, I left my studio feeling like shit and am now having a physical aversion to going into my studio again. Seriously, a sick to my stomach feeling... So, after talking to my husband about it, I have decided that I need to get back in there and perform a little "exercism." Alitterally of course. Is that a word? I just need to get back in there with no expectations so that I can recondition myself to the space being playful and freeing and fun instead of heavy and dark with so many expectations that lead to dissapointment. So creatively, I have a lot to think about when it comes to attatchments, expectations, what I invest in my work vs. return spiritually I mean. What is my purpose for creating? I sometimes think about the Buddhist monks who design very intricate art with sand that take a lot of time, focus and energy and then sweep it away with a broom when they are done as an exercise in impermanance. My husband had some very good advice about picking three to four things to work on and then not focusing on any one of them too much so that you can just allow things to happen and gain a momentum all their own. I think I'll hold on to those thoughts for a while and see where they take me. It makes sense and I used the metaphore of those 3-d pictures that if you look AT them too hard you can't see the image but if you look at them after your eyes have softened and blurred into an unfocused stare, the image pops out at you.

Also, my husband and I have been thinking a lot lately that it may be the right time to start looking into adopting a little girl from China. It takes 12-18 mos. We have always felt that we would like to have two children of our own and then possibly adopt two. Now that I have two of my own and I realize what the reality of parenting is like, I don't know that we could do four kids. I think we could do three. But, there is a lot more I need to know about the process and of course saving the money because it is seriously expensive. I think I would like to find out if there is an agency that holds information sessions about adopting from China. Paul wants to read this book Daughters of China or something like that about the phenomena of Chinese girls that are growing up in our western culture. I guess 6,000 Chinese children were adopted into the US last year alone. Lots to think about there as well.

Today promises to be a beautious day...I am visiting my Grandma and may go for a bike ride with my boys. I love my Grandma. She is so awesome. She is very young and active in spirit. She is strong and positive and loves to laugh. I would like for my boys to really know her. So I am trying to spend more and more time with her. She has had such a positive influence on my life. The only thing is that she feeds me way to well. What is it about Grandma's and food?

Well, gotta go get my cup of decaf. Even though I don't drink caffeine anymore, I still like to have something warm to start my day off with.

Back Among the Living...Sort Of

Wow! We have all been sick from a bug that has felt like the Tasmanian Devil going through our systems. Uuugh. We are still quite beaten down and bleary. But, things are looking up. I am waiting for Isaac to get up so that I can take his temperature. If his temp is normal, I will assume that his coughing fit for an hour and a half last night was due partly to coughing and partly to panic. If he has a temp, I'll have to decide whether or not to take him to the doctor. He coughed so much for an hour and a half last night that he couldn't catch his breath and he was panicking which made it worse. I took him for a ride in the car with the windows down, on the advice of a friend who is a nurse, and it helped. He calmed down and fell asleep. I woke him up to come in the house and he started coughing again, but I was able to get some cough medicine in him. He slept fine.

Cross your fingers with me because...it is Friday and we must decide if we are all well enough to proceed with the usual Friday night follies.

If Isaac has a temp...no date night obviously. I think the kids will be sad too. They haven't really been out of the house all week and would really love to go see there Grandma. So, I think we are all hoping for no temperature.

I have never in my life seen, heard or been surrounded by so much snot. It is just overtaking us all! It is on pillow cases, blankets, shirt sleeves, gurgling in our chests, changing the tone of our voices and our ability to hear. We are being swallowed up by ooze kind of like a bad 50's horror movie. Too bad you can't use it for something...like fixing squeaky doors, lubricating the garage door opener or removing soapscum.

I got my very first rejection letter the other day. I submitted a piece for publishing and it was turned down. I was a little disappointed. However, I was really happy to have found the motivation to do it and to have gotten beyond that it only happens to other people. So, my primary goal was realized by submitting. Getting published is a secondary goal. It is a goal none the less. I think I will begin a whimsical little scrapbook of rejection letters. I think it would help stave off insecurities if I can have fun with it. I want to try to keep my attitude up and light about the whole process. I do believe you can repel things when you get into that whole cycle of grasping and striving. Besides, collecting letters of rejection provides another motivation for getting a lot submissions out there. I would have another secondary goal of needing material for my scrapbook. Just a little mental game to play with myself inside my head...ho hum. It passes the time.

I hope I can get some housecleaning done today. I ran out of energy after going to the store and making soup yesterday. I was wiped out. I mean I was shaking I was so tired. It was a wild rice, leek soup. It turned out very nice. I love making soup. I don't always enjoy cooking. But soup is a wonderful expressive form of cooking that is as much about texture, color, shape and balance as it is about warmth, nurturing, comfort and love. Now if I could just get confident about my bread making skills. Hopefully the soup I made and the vitamins I bought yesterday will help restore some balance. We are all on vitamins now! I usually don't really like to take supplements. I want to try to eat a well balanced diet. But, this illness has made me doubt my plan a little. Plus, it is difficult to insure that the kids eat what they should because they will only eat what they want to at the time which is sometimes determined by the amount of sugar something has in it or how much sugar they have had.

Enough rambling. I am still a bit woozy and not making much sense I fear. Off to start my day with cup of chai!

On Things Like Ruthless Honesty and Growth

Right now I am sitting in my studio listening to Air on the Virgin Suicides Original Score. It is really good. I liked the movie too. It is one of those "weird" ones by most people's standards. But I usually don't like what most people like. I like it best when things are not all nice and neat and spelled out for you but where you kind of have to take in more than usual and kind of mull it over before you know if you like it or not. I like it when you can sort of have a personal relationship with a film. It is like a piece of art that way, ya know?

My brother and his wife are going to have a baby. He is so happy and emotional about it. I truly love seeing him like this. These moments are the moments one should be mindful of as they will be recalled time and time again and happen so few times in our lives. It's big...I mean BIG! Life is never the same after kids. You keep expecting it to be until you are finally one day on an iceburg with your new life all packed and ready to go blowing kisses to your old life on the snowy banks as you go off into the unknown. Yet, I am very happy for him.

Part of me is very excited about a part of our lives getting more similar. I hope it brings a new closeness to our relationship. My brother is seven years younger and I have been waiting a long time for him to catch up so to speak.

Part of me is overjoyed to see him so joyful. He is giddy and it is always adorable to see a man giddy. It is heartwarming, really. My brother has a huge capacity to love.

Part of me is happy at the prospect of growth for him in all areas of his life that will also mean our life circumstances will be more similar. Our schedules for one will be more similar which will make it easier to spend more time together.

Part of me is sad for him because I feel that he has not yet discovered some things about his talents as a writer and he needs to go back to school and keep educating himself to realize his dreams. Nothing is more sad than unrequitted love or lost dreams. I can see that this is probably not going to happen now. I can see him wanting to push writing aside. I can see his wife expecting it of him. Willingly he'll open himself, his whole self to this new experience until he gets lost in it. I can see where he can't and I couldn't before him.

Part of me is scared shitless for him. It is no walk in the park. There are all these things that you just have to figure out on your own and no one tells you!

I want to help him. I want to save him from it. I want to tell him so many things. I want to make it easier for him than it has been for me. Society sets us up to kind of see our roles a certain way - you know? We are 'good' if we do things that fit within the framework of the role laid out for us...be it Mother or Father. It is far too easy to lose our true selves in this venture...to cash in for what seems like the sure thing and put all our other dreams aside. Yet, you come out feeling like you do when you fall prey to a smooth talking salesman with impeccable teeth. Like, when your heart tells you something doesn't add up but you keep looking at how beautiful the car is and you just want it because you want it. Then you break down at some point and it all comes together. You realize...this is forever.

My brother asked me how long did it take to come to terms with it after I found out I was pregnant. He was a bundle of emotions and jittery. He asked me this when he had only known of his wife's pregnancy for a matter of days. I told him, eight years.

Reflecting back on this, it is true. I am settling in now after eight years. I, finally, have learned to merge all the parts of my being into one. It has taken eight years for me to realize that I can be a good mother, an artist, a writer, an educator, sexy, sexual, healthy, spiritual, adult, consistent, loving, fun, playful, responsible, friend, active community member, cook, housekeeper, flexible, supportive, giving, brave, creative, joyous, happy, nurse, caretaker, wife, lover all at the same time! Yes, one takes away from the other at times but in creating balance it is what is necessary. I no longer feel guilty when I fail at one thing only to succeed at another. That guilt has at times been the weight of the cinderblock tied to a dog. It has been wasted energy and wasted time. It has kept me from fully enjoying myself, my husband and my children. The whole me is important to my family. Motherhood is only one part. It is big! It got in the way of my being able to see things about myself and my partner for a long time. I am thankful that we are where we are now. I love my life and adore my children and all that they bring to it. But, I can honestly say all this now because I love myself.

I am now able to look at my deepest, darkest, recesses and ask myself with ruthless honestly - do I wish my life were different? Do I wish I had no kids? Do I wish I could go back and erase it all? I couldn't go there for many years because deep down inside, I was afraid of my own answer. More than that, I was afraid that my answer would provide proof to the world that something was terribly wrong with me and that I was a horrible, mentally deranged person who deserved to be sent straight to hell. Afterall, I had healthy children. I had a loving, devoted husband. I had a house. We were not struggling for money. What on Earth did I have to be unhappy about? My family was of little support because by their comparisons, I was Cinder fuckin' rella. As long as your husband is not beating you, molesting your children and keeps a regular job, he is one "tall, cool drink of water." He is walking true love. For years I thought God would see me as ungrateful and that I would be punished somehow. This translated into trying to be a perfect mother. I wanted to do everything right. Afterall, I wanted to prove to God, to everyone else, to myself that I loved my children.

It wasn't until I really began to look inward, I mean like when you are combing through your kids' hair searching for nits with that fine tooth comb they give you when you by that shampoo. I had a lot of sorting to do. I had to be thorough. I had to decide what was my "stuff" and what was everyone else's. I had to decide what was worth keeping in this brain of mine and what could be thrown out. Turning a blind eye to nothing, I became my own person and got down to myself again - my true nature. Opening myself to my own love and compassion has allowed me to truly appreciate my life and my children and my spouse and all that we do together and for one another. I am lucky to have this rediscovery. I am fortunate to have a husband who has held my hand, laughed and cried with me and cheered me on. I suppose it could take many years longer if you don't have good, positive support in your life or if you aren't strong enough to ever face some of the ugly work we all need to face inside ourselves.

So all this is stuff I'd like to say. I picture my brother kind of half paying attention but mostly thinking somewhere in his mind about how fucked up all that is and how his life will be different. How fucked up women are and wondering if his mother felt that way about him. I think he would kind of feel sorry for me in a way and how messed up our childhood was. I think he would sort of smile and nod and not be able to hear anything other than his own heartbeat as it pierces his ears with his own excitement. I think he would only hear parts of the story and react to them by shutting down parts of himself. He has to. He has to so that he can prepare for his own experience. He has to, as we all do so that we can grow. It is his turn now and to save him from it in any way would be an injustice to his spirit and an assault on his growth.

Namaste, seedling. Grow. Not growth in spite of or against...but grow with. Grow alongside everything else in the world that must change all around you everyday every minute every second. Grow knowing that nothing stays the same no matter how much you wish it would and the only thing to do is change with it. I promise, I'll be changing right alongside you, Brother.

How Much Do You Love Me?

I was tucking in my boys the other night and I got one of those Mom rewards that makes it all worth it for a little while longer. I leaned down to kiss my youngest. He had decided to make a sleeping bag out of his blanket and sleep on the floor. So, I was down on the floor with him and he held my face in his little hands. He softly kissed my forehead, each cheek, each eyebrow, my lips...one by one and then repeated it. He wrapped his arms around me tight and said these words...

Mommy,
I love you all the way up to space and down,
Up to space and down again,
and then more than there are fishes in any liquid.

Wow! That's a lot of love - isn't it? All I know is that I have got to be the luckiest Mother in the whole universe right now!

Let's hope that we can be mindful of this connection and allow it to carry us through another winter day here in Columbus, Ohio. I am so ready for Spring. We are all getting antsy and the boys have been at each other more frequently. I have been edgy and overemotional. Paul and I have been bickering.

My meditation helps but I really need more reinforcement in my practice right now. I am reading, Stumbling Toward Enlightenment by Geri Larkin (I can't underline on this blog for some reason - that's retarded. There is bold and italic but no underline feature?) Hopefully that will help. Reading, is in itself, soothing and relaxing. But reading about Zen is almost as good as a meditation. So far, the book is refreshing. She is the head of the Ann Arbor Zen Center now. But her path has included kids, a career, and a couple of divorces to get to where she is now. Her style is very down to Earth, accessible Zen. She is a modern women devoted to her spiritual path but speaks of sex, chocolate (you know, the basics) and failure. The things that are not closely associated with spiritual path but should be because every experience can be a stepping stone to your higher self development. I am only on chapter three, so I'll let you know.

Most of what I have read has been written by older males who did not have to balance spirituality with parenting much less a menstrual cycle, husband, cooking, kissing booboo's, cleaning puke etc. While I feel I have learned a lot from my readings thus far, I am curious about these practical everyday things that come up and pull me straight out of my peaceful nothingness. I believe the path of a Mother, my path, is a serious path with all of these tests happening often simultaneously. Guidance for this particular path is rare. So I am looking forward to what Geri Larkin has to share. Who knows, maybe when I am older and wiser, I'll write my own book about Zen mothering. It will be entitled, The Zen Art of Not Beating Your Children. Breathing helps tremendously. Mala beads also helpful. Not getting entwined in their stuff would be optimum - not there yet. They push my buttons and I get yanked in before I even realize it. They have got to be the best Zen teachers yet!

Today we are staying home. Today is Holi, a Hindu holiday known as the festival of colors (thanks Sheetal.) So we are going to paint our bodies, use colored water in spray bottles to soak one another and fingerpaint with bright colors. Then we are going to have Indian food for dinner. I wanted to go to the North Market and get my favorite Indian food there. But, lunch would have been to crowded and we were too busy reading Harry Potter to get up and get dressed to head downtown. So, we are going to share Indian food with my brother and sister-in-law tonight. I am excited to share this celebration with my kids because things have been so gray and dreary here. Plus, my sister in law just found out she is preggo with their first so we are all feeling pretty festive.

The festival of colors is supposed to allow us to welcome the oncoming Spring and celebrate the color that comes into our lives in that season. In my opinion, that is just way cooler than Easter. My kids say they still like Easter better. But any holiday involving candy would be difficult to compete with no matter what religion. Color has energy. I am energized at the thought of what this day means to Hindus. We should do some yoga also! That would be appropriate. Woohoo!

I am now blowing a kiss to everyone. I hope color comes into everyone's lives and energizes everyone with some serious positive energy today!!!!!!SMOOCHIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Holi!

In a Serious Wonder...

I stepped out into the rain, giggling as the coldspray hit my face. There were gusts of wind whispering to us, "Spring is coming." My attention was still on the company of friends and the taste of Birthday chocolate when a stranger came up from behind us and asked for $.49.

"I'm just trying to get something to eat," he said. "I promise, I'll just get something to eat." I gave him my well rehearsed, "I don't have any cash." I was fully prepared to leave it at that, but the man came closer and continued. His slurred speech and wild gaze, so familiar. His hair a knotted black mass atop his medium frame. His hands reaching out to us.

Another gust of wind slapped more cold mist in my face. Arms folded, jacketless, I stood unmoving. I watched as one of my companions made herself and her purse vulnerable. She opened her purse and handed him a folded bill. The stranger's crazy eyes softened slightly and he thanked us all sweetly, humbly. Reaching out, he put his hand on my arm and made eye contact with me. I had nothing to do with the transaction yet there was something here meant for me, maybe for all of us. "Aaaah bless you," he said sweetly. I could have sworn I heard him say, "My baby girl." I shook it off with a shiver. He continued blessing us and everybody else as he continued on his way.

Though anonymous, his gaze haunts me. His physical form, skin color, hair so obviously foreign to me, yet it was as if he were channeling my father. Bizarre.

I instinctively know that this is something I will never be able to fully process or figure out. I'll place this on the compost heap of thoughts and let the layers of gray matter transform it into something magical...a deeper knowing that connects this moment to previous conversations and makes sense out of episodes of interaction with my father. He once said to me as we sat up late in his house in the suburbs, "I always thought I would die a dirty old drunk in the gutter somewhere. Look at me now?" I think he thought or wanted to believe he had it beat. We both did. I have learned that illusions can destroy us, creating a floor of vapor for our egos. I feel sad, but I don't cry anymore.

Here Comes the Sun...Do...Do...Do...Do

I realized something in my meditation this morning. I have been too attatched to results. This attatchment has been creating such a huge problem for me. I have been trying to hold on to my previous successes and of course this is impossible. But, I began judging each session by comparing it to those great moments instead of allowing each moment to be great just as they are. Uuugh. This is not new stuff to me and it is frustrating to see this come up in my practice again. However, with this realization comes new light. My mood lifted and I feel as though I have come back to myself again. I think this is one of the things Suzuki was talking about when he spoke of trying to maintain the Beginner's Mind. He spoke of letting your mind play and to be open to spontaneous thoughts. I have been too disciplined, pushing those thoughts out of my head attatched to the breath and attaining the no thought state. It feels good to think of allowing my mind to be playful again. Practice is serious but not to be taken too seriously. I feel liberated knowing that this is something I have the power to change all in changing my perspective. I don't have to sit in the dark wondering when someone else is going to turn the light on. Now I feel so silly...oh well. It happens. I wonder if it happens to people who have been practicing Zen for many years? Probably.

Feelings...Whoa...Whoa... Whoa...Whoa...Feelings

Okay...
I need to say something. I have been trying to put on the good face. I have been trying to be a good sport. I have been going through the motions. I just have to finally admit it...I am in a bad mood. It is not that I feel like I can't be in a bad mood for everyone else's sake. I just really don't like to feel this way. I have been denying it...trying to look on the brightside...trying to sugar coat things...make the best of it...all that good girl, happy as a clam crap! Fuck it - it's out now! I am Grumpy as fuck! There!

It is as if the facets of myself that don't often get stage time are revolting. Grouchy, Angry, Psycho Bitch from Hell is pretty pissed and is itching to make a grand rentrance. All are parts of the whole. To ignore them is to create an imabalance. Besides, the more I try to outrun these feelings, the more they chase me down. Sometimes if you just turn around and shine a light on it, it disappears. So this is my attempt...at an exorcism of sorts...or a merging of the fragments.

So if Grouchy, Angry, Psyho Bitch from Hell takes over, just what will it take for her to want to be a part of the group again? Hmmmm.

Maybe somma 'dis

Somma 'dis

Somma dat

and a good...

Of course the latter is likely not to happen unless me knight be brave...VERY BRAVE and bold as the Grouchy, Angry, Psycho Bitch From Hell is well...SCARY! He must be able to withstand her firey gaze, her cold as death touch, her harpy cries and whines...all for the greater good I say.

Tune in next time when Sad Bunny takes the stage for a great performance piece...

Here is a link that would make anyone feel better.
http://www.darwinawards.com/
Check out my favorites Failed Frame Up and 1994's Cactus Crunch!

Happy Birthday to Me, Happy Birthday to Me

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to me! For my birthday last Sunday I got sunflowers, 55 cents and a Santa Claus ring! Woohoo! I'd say I made out like a bandit - especially in the love category. Elijah got 90 cents that day because Paul found $1.80 while he was doing laundry and split it evenly between the two boys and told them to go put it in their penny banks. Elijah brought me 55 cents of his 90 cents and said, "Here Mom, since it is your birthday and you never get birthday money I'll give you this." Too cute. I really do get birthday money. But, I didn't say that, I just took the 55 cents and hugged him. As if that weren't enough of the warm and fuzzy, the flower delivery guy knocked on the door and handed me a bouquet of my favorite - SUNFLOWERS! Just the bright spot we need around here in these gray months. Kisses for Paul because his timing was perfect. I don't want flowers too frequently and it had been awhile since I received flowers as a gift. So there was a little bit of the thought, "I hope I get flowers" but not so long that when I received them it was too late...If ya know what I mean. Then later, Isaac decided he didn't want to wear his Santa ring anymore and said I could have it since it was my birthday! So many cherished moments, thoughts and gifts...I am grateful. I love my guys!

I have been a little absent in the creative art and writing department because I have been working on trying to meditate and exercise daily again. I have been getting so lax in my Zen practice and sesshin is coming up. Plus, my spirit has been feeling a little thin. So, it is time to take the wooden sword and come alive again! I get so busy in winter to avoid getting depressed from the weather or rather noticing that I am depressed from the weather. I really should try to take a winter vacation somewhere sunny. I wish I were more disciplined and could force myself to meditate even when I really don't feel like it. Suzuki says, "Go through the motions and your mind will follow." I believe that is true. But my heart tends to get more say than any other part of me and if my heart isn't in it...well, I just don't fake things well.

As far as art goes, I am getting back in my studio tomorrow. I have two images going through my head today that I need to sketch before I lose them. I love it when I get visuals in meditation. Translating them is the hard part though. I also want to finish my first painting for the show. My timeline is to get one painting done every two months. I think that is reasonable and so far I am on schedule.

I have been looking at a couple of different magazines to submit to and have been going over submission guidelines and stuff. I looked at Brainchild, Life Learning Magazine and Home Education Magazine. Oh, and I also looked at Shambala Sun. Life Learning Magazine does not pay. They prefer to barter. That's an okay idea, but I really, really would like to be paid for my work. I have done free so much that I think I began to look at what I do as not worth anything. Besides, I don't really have anything to barter. I just can't do that anymore. But if the piece that I want to submit doesn't get in anywhere else, maybe I'll just suck it up and do a freebie again. I started to edit a piece but need to go back over it at least one more time before it will be ready. I am crossing my fingers. The really exciting part for me is just the doing of it. I have long been in a place where I was just too...I don't know...too far away from myself and my sense of personal power to even take the time to do what I love, let alone take the steps to put myself out there. I feel like I am ready to set myself free...you know like the caged bird?

I also have two poems that need revisiting. So, I have lots 'o choices when I get into my studio tomorrow.

One HUGE distraction for me, other than my loving family who can't live without me, is CITY OF VILLAINS!!!!!! I LOVE IT! It is so much fun and Paul and I play together. My character is named RedHeadStepChild.

She is a Magic Master Mind with the power to control dark forces and raise the dead. She has two pet zombies and a Dark Knight which is a zombie warrior at her beck and call. It is soooooooo freakin' cool! But what a huge waste of time - honestly! This is a huge internal conflict for me and right now, I deal with it by...well, giving in and playing the game. I don't know...maybe I could think of it as supporting the arts. Certainly lots of artists worked on this game to make it so kick ass and I wouldn't want them to feel their time away from their families was in vain. Yeah-that's it! So, I am going to try to limit myself to playing two times a week...NOT! It just seems like that is what I should say at this point. But the real truth is that I just want to brag about how fast I'm leveling and how the missions keep getting more and more difficult but Paul's character Tupid and I are just such a rockin' team that we are still floating right along with very little debt. So there you have it. My name is Too Tight Ponytail Girl and I'm an addict.

Forrest...well...I am happy to say that Forrest is getting the potty thing. He is till having some accidents upstairs. He doesn't get the whole upstairs downstairs thing yet. I swear I think he forgets where he is if he isn't with someone. He'll go upstairs and no one will be up there and he'll suddenly just cry and squeel as if he's being tortured. We have to yell for him and then he'll follow our voices to emancipate himself from the realm of the unknown. But, he is running to his litter box and going 85% of the time when he is downstairs. Whew. I can deal with that as long as he is trying. It has taken him two months to get this far. Criminy, that's slow compared to Ginny. She got it in like two weeks. So we are back to calling him Forrest again and Precious and BooBoo and really loving names. Tupid and Lord Farquad are no longer.

...and they live happily ever after? Apparently NOT!!!!!

Tupid Strikes Again!