Useful Sabbatical

Have I ever clearly expressed just how much I truly enjoy this blogging business? If you read frequently, or sporadically, then I'm sure you are well aware of my affinity for this blogtastic existence. Nothing is going to change in that department.

I am going to be taking a little break from Bliss In Bloom for about a week, I think. It's not because I need a rest, it's because I have a new project in the works that needs my full attention for a bit. My next big ambition!

I'm going to be starting a new blog, for a different purpose. Bliss In Bloom is not going anywhere!! I'll still be here, and loving every minute of it...don't panic *teehee*

Inside this woman lies big dreams, and this is the time for me to start making some of them happen for myself. The time I am taking away from this blog will be spent praying for guidance, and seeking guidance from my uber-knowledgeable peers. I need to get all my ducks in a row so I can do it right. Unlike the launching of Bliss In Bloom, which was a fumbling display of e-ignorance in the beginning, and still is to some degree.

What I hope, when this is all said and done, is for Bliss In Bloom to remain my personal retreat, my journal of a lifetime. My next venture/adventure is going to be different, and more about YOU than me.

I will be back to posting regularly in no time! So don't go anywhere!!

Instead, perhaps, use this as a chance to read old posts of mine...that you missed and might enjoy! Please direct yourself to my sidebar. Read the BEST IN SHOWS. Check out my ARRANGEMENTS. See what you like, and by all means keep commenting!! You know how I love your comments.

See you in about a week! X!O!U!

You can count on me!

For what you ask? Well, it's simple...

THE NEW SEASON OF THE OFFICE STARTS IN LESS THAN ONE HOUR!!

I have been waiting all summer for this! Do yourself a favor. Get cozy. Set your DVR. Watch and enjoy.

Warning! Eating whilst watching is ill advised, as it becomes an enormous choking hazard...on account of all the laughing and all.

I am certain that The Office is the smartest, funniest on every ebb and flow show ever! I'm willing to battle it out over that claim. The only legitimate arguments against my case could be Seinfeld, and maybe Friends. Take a look at the writers and producers of The Office, and then we'll talk.

Now, I'm going to empty my bladder, finish cleaning the kitchen, try to empty my bladder again, and settle in for some honest to goodness and long awaited couching. Will you be watching?

Let's discuss tomorrow.

For any of you who chose to remain naysayers, I leave you with this. Please to enjoy!

My Dearest Baby Noah

Dear Noah,

You are the child I prayed for, you are the baby God gave me when I asked him to give me a second child. I prayed, sincerely, and expectantly, for God to give me a second child...and you are the child that I was blessed with.

Your big brother was a big surprise! Me and Daddy had just gotten married and all of a sudden, almost overnight, I got pregnant with him. I didn't know if I was ready to have another child when I began to pray about it, but I knew that Jackson needed a sibling. I didn't want him to be alone in this world. After a little while, I finally had peace about it, and in the next few weeks I realized that I was pregnant again...with you.

I was very happy! But things were getting really bad with me and Daddy, so the road ahead would be a very hard one in lots of ways. And, as it has turned out, your little lifetime has only known this turbulence.

I was so sick when I was pregnant with you...so very, very, sick. When you were five months in my tummy, I got the flu. The doctor couldn't give me any medicine to make me feel better, so I just got sicker, and sicker, and my sickness eventually turned into full blown pneumonia. For months I couldn't breathe, I couldn't catch my breath, and I couldn't stop coughing. I had fever and felt like I was at deaths door. It was horrible, so bad sometimes that I wished that I would die. I never slept, because between being nauseated and vomiting, I was gagging and choking to gasp for air. Your Dad took as good of care of me as he possibly could, and chasing around after Jackson was a challenge for both of us then. It's because of how sick I was that you came five weeks early. When you were born, it all happened so fast, that I barely remember any of it.

Hours after you were born, your Dad took Jackson home, and left me and you at the hospital, alone, until the next day. It was a very long night. You were so completely different than Jackson. You didn't want me, you didn't want to nurse. I had to feed you formula because you would not latch on. This was so heartbreaking for me because I had tried so hard to do everything "right" with Jackson. I nursed Jackson for eleven months, and he never took a bottle. I felt like I had done something wrong. Now, of course, I realize that you were too little, too young to latch on. I made peace with the circumstances though, and it was a relief that your Dad could feed you too.

From the time you were born, you always wanted your Dad more than me. I sometimes thought you didn't like me, but I was grateful that you were bonding with your Father. No doubt though that the depression I faced after your birth had a great deal to do with all of that as well. As much as I wanted to be there for you, in my mind I was often a million miles away. Your Dad had stopped loving me along time before you came along...and when you were three months old he decided he wanted out. Whether your aversion to me was completely because of my postpartum depression, or a mixture of everything going on in my horrible marriage and still being sick and always alone...with no help...I don't know. But I wish all the time that you had come along during a happier time. Life was really hard, and after your Dad left, it only got harder.

I was not able to be there for you emotionally. I was barely surviving. All of the sudden, I had an infant, a four year old, and no place to live. I had no car, no money, no furniture. I had been a stay home Mom for so many years that I didn't even have a resume to help me get a job. The combination of my husband leaving me, severe postpartum depression, and the anxiety from the stress of it all was hell. I hate to admit this, but I don't remember much of the first year of your life. Everything was so hard, and I was hurting so bad. I took care of you, I fed you, I'm sure I played with you and taught you how to say your first words and to walk...but I don't remember it. I have endless remorse because of this.

I never bonded with you like I did with Jackson. It's not because I didn't want to, and it's certainly not because I didn't love you. For most of your life, my life has been about surviving...and often not knowing how I was going to keep going, all alone with my two boys.

If people looked at us now, and didn't know the history, they probably wouldn't be able to guess. God has been so good to us!

I say all of this to you tonight because I want you to know that you are special. You are so very special to me. You are the sweetest and most pleasant little boy that anyone could ask for. You are very different from Jackson, and that's okay. I still struggle with not knowing how to read you sometimes though. You are in a whiny stage right now, that is honestly driving me nuts, you test my patience. This is absolutely not your fault. You are a great, wonderful, amazing, smart, and funny kid! I adore you!! I just sometimes don't think I know you at all though, and if this is the case, it is most definitely my fault.

I have done the best I know how to. I know that's no consolation for the bonding that we missed out on though. I'm so sorry for this. There is so much that I could regret and agonize over...but I don't. I can't let myself. There is no good that can come from living a life full of regret over things I can't change, or over things that I didn't have control over. I know that I've done the best that I have known how to. And I guess that is all anyone can do.

I long to be closer with you. I always wish that you would cuddle with me the way that you so easily do with your Dad and with Granny. But, I guess, in a way, I don't deserve it. You might always be Daddy's boy, and Granny's boy...and I think that is great. I have no doubt that you love me.

It's so hard to get closer to you when I only really see you at the end of the day, when you are tired, cranky, and needy...and when I am worn out as well. There is little time for us to play together. You want to be just like your big brother, you want to spend all your time with him, and I think that is awesome! He is a good brother to you, and he loves you too. I guess I did, after all, ask God to give Jackson someone. And he did. I am as grateful as the day is long that God blessed me with two sons. And you have something that Jackson never had, you have a big brother.

Sweet baby Noah, you are so very precious! My love for you has no bounds. I named you Noah, because Noah means "Peace." And if there is anything that I need in my life, it is certainly peace.

Please don't grow up resenting me for anything. It would break my heart into a million pieces. I know that just like with me as a child, God has given you people in your life for you to love and bond with. These people were no accident for me, and they are no accident for you. I love you son. You are one of the most precious, most adorable children that I've ever known. You are a blessing to me, and to this family, don't ever think that you came along at a bad time. You were an answer to prayer then, and you still are. This little family of three would not be complete without you.

I look forward to watching you grow up. I look forward to seeing the fulfilment of your joy. I know that God brought you into this world for a greater reason than just to be Jackson's little brother. I also know that my life didn't start until I became a mother. Raising you and Jackson, guiding you into adulthood, shaping the men that you will be, for the purpose you have in this world...that is the reason God made me. God needs you for something big, so he had to make me come along...and he gave me all my life experience...in order for me to be the mother of you. I am here because of you and Jackson. You are why I am here. I will live the rest of my life thanking God for this enormous honor, and depending on God to help my do right by you.

You are sunlight, and cotton candy clouds. You are creative brilliance, you are inspiring. Noah, I love you with every ounce of my being. I am trying to listen to you, I am trying to meet your needs, I am trying to give you special moments. I will never stop, and I will never stop adoring you . . . will you please snap out of this whiny phase now?

Love, Mom

Adjustment.

Mt. Moran from Jackson Lake, Grand Teton National Park


It's that pretty time of year again, and it's making me remember where I was last year, and *gulp* how much I miss it.

Look at these pictures, you'll see why.

My house, my truck, my boys.

Me and Jeremy up top in the Gros Ventre Mountains...via four-wheeling day trip.

Sun beginning to set on the Teton's.

Jeremy fishing.

Sunset at Chrystal Creek.

My back porch view.

Pumpkin carving lessons.

Jeremy's front porch. Yeah, I know, but we had a lot of good times on that porch.

Now, I am back in Oklahoma. Where I grew up.

Inclement weather is about as big of a rush as you can expect to get here.

This will be one of those...

unplanned posts.


Off the top of my head, I can't think of anything exceptionally interesting to write about. But, the urge to post is significant...so much so in fact, that I've been hovering around my computer on and off all day...waiting expectantly...thinking, I suppose, that something would come to me...but nothing is coming to me.

I wanted to do another Short Sunday Sermon, like last Sunday. I think that's what I've been waiting on...yet again, nothing is coming to me.

Some very uninteresting things are buzzing in my brain though...maybe I should elaborate on such? Okay, well here goes nothing...

• The end of the month is rapidly approaching, it always makes me sad. This is because my list of previous posts for the month will shrink up under the title of "September", as soon as I post once in October . . . never yo be seen again. I always think, "Hey! waitaminute! that's not fair...I worked hard on that and your gonna shrink it away like it's nothing? Darn you!"

• I'm exceptionally tired. Sunday is winding down to Monday morning and, just like every other weekend, I didn't really get to rest. I want some stinkin' breathing room people! I want some Piper Time. I need a break! I need to not see my boys faces, or have to do anything related to being a mom for a day or two!!! This "break" fantasy is never going to happen.

• I don't feel good. I feel the sickness inside. But it doesn't matter...I have more important things to tend to than my own piddly little needs. Noah has a cough, and runny nose. Crap! I can't miss work this week.

• Being a single mom is hard! Complaining is stupid. I'm not complaining.

• I can't wait to wear my new shirt to work tomorrow! I'll feel pretty all day...as long as my hair holds up...if I actually have time to really fix my hair in the caotic morning that will happen as soon as I go to sleep tonight.

• The new season of The Office starts Thursday!!!! YEAH!! I cannot wait til Thursday!

another step back in time...

My previous post was sweet, this is a more embarrassing retrospective. Look at this picture I found of me and my cousin!

I'm the one on the right, in case you're having trouble finding the face amid the HUGE hair! We were so babalicious though, I mean for 1991, could it really be more spectacular? This is me during my modeling years. I was a runway and print model for John Casablanca's Model and Talent Management. Notice me trying to exude "older"? Sheesh, what a girl I was back then. So full of myself, yet completely naive and self conscious.

There was a time, not too long ago, when I thought that this was when I was at my best. The magical years of my high school beauty...rail thin, braces, bright red hair and all! I felt good about myself, solely because of the attention I got for being cute. No one ever wanted to get to know me, at the core. So, I didn't bother getting to know me either. For years and years this is how I lived. Feeding off compliments of unsubstantial merit.

This story could become much more than this blip on the blog radar. But, I'm not ready to go there tonight...it's getting late, and I'm getting sleepy.

a step back in time...

I was out and about today, just like everyday at work. I have a tendency to space things sometimes though, and often times I space at the most inconvenient times. It happens.

I found myself in the middle of nowhere, a result of talking on my phone and handling business and not exactly paying any attention to where I'm going. It happens. Don't be scared, I'm not a dangerous driver! Just a carefree nomad at heart, I have little fear of unknown geography...I always end up somewhere, and if it's not where I want to be then I just simply take time to smell the roses...call it sight seeing.

So, I was out in the middle of farm land...which is not hard to find around here, and suddenly I became aware that I had no gas in the car. NO GAS. I'm really surprised I hadn't ran out of fumes.

Then, out of nowhere, I stumbled upon a gas station. Literally, sitting out in the middle of Nothingville. I pulled in not knowing if the place was even open or in business at all. Before I open the door, and just after I got off the phone, a man suddenly appeared, standing at the window of my car. *un-nerving*

He was a rusty old timer, in overalls and they were really dirty. I opened the door (I'm fearless remember) and he said, "Fill'er up?"

He was there to pump my gas!!! It was crazy! I have never seen one of these in person before. I said, "oh, what? really? no just $20" and he got to work putting gas in my car. I couldn't get over my luck! Lady of leisure rides again! Why did gas stations start making people pump their own gas? It's not such a pain in the tush to pay almost $3/gal. when you don't even have to get out of the car. It's like you're receiving star treatment or something.

I loved this! See, I really do belong in another era. Or maybe I just like star treatment. It could be the old and exquisitely capable male gesture of chivalry that sent me swooning though. I adore gentlemen! The world needs more of them.

He had a name patch that read "Lloyd." Our world needs more Lloyd's.

When I do this...

It just occurred to me that one might have even more fun translating my blog, if they listened to the music I listen to while writing. I don't know?

If you'd like a soundtrack to accompany this blog, you could choose to listen to any of the musicians listed on my profile. That's pretty much all I've been listening to for about four months now...I think it's time to refresh iTunes. That would be a pretty interesting investigation wouldn't it? I should write about that or something, after a lengthy investigation into you guy's blog's soundrack's, of course....maybe I will someday.

Anyway! That's not what I sat down to write about, but you know...multitasking never stops...once you're in it, you're in for it!

I had a really big, crazy awesome thing happen to me today! I have to share.

My boss, my superior of superiors, the BOSS of everyone, asked me to arrange a meeting with our most important client. Who is to attend this meeting you ask? Only three people. Bossman, Huge Important Client, and me!! AND ME!

This is so huge to me! It's quite an opportunity, and though this would be my first meeting of this kind...with Bossman/BiggestClient...I am feeling surprisingly up for the challenge! I'm looking forward to it, I can't wait! I think this is the beginning of many of these kinds of firsts for me. I have worked for it...I deserve it!

Actually I don't deserve any credit for this, it all belongs to God!

If you knew me, if you knew anything about what I have lived through, where I've been...you would know. And my girls who've just finally started reading (misa, unopeso, and kerali), I know could each attest to this miraculous transformation in my self-confidence and happiness...couldn't you? God is so good! I have been so very, very blessed. Thank you heavenly father!

Anyway again,

The meeting should be next week, and it has INCREDIBLE potential. So, please wish me well, and if you have any good advice for a meeting of this magnitude . . . do share!

Mad Love To My Peeps!

This one is for you!

They are known to do Woo-chow!

Have you noticed anything new about me today? Okay, not me, but my blog? Check out my list of lurkings...it seems to have doubled in size.

Why is this you ask?

Long story short, I have recently met some of the coolest bloggers ever! I invite you to check them out...you won't be disappointed. Mostly this post's purpose is to thank these ladies for welcoming me into their worlds. Warm, wonderful, bubbling over, ooey gooey love vibes to each of you!

Actually I also must thank all of you! THANK YOU, THANK YOU all of you!

To newnorth and LB and each of my other "regulars". . . wrap your arms around yourself and consider yourself HUGGED from me!

(( HUG )) (( HUG )) (( HUG ))

Thank you for taking the time to read and comment...you have no idea how much I look forward to hearing from you! Your feedback keeps me going. If you could see me now...I mean sitting here...you'd see that I am tickled pink at this new wave of good vibrations. I'm loving loving loving the love.

******

Update on Papa. (click here to refresh your memory) (and here)

Papa has been in the hospital ever since his triple bypass due to having a stroke a few days after it. He was placed in a nursing home today. He is mentally sound and scared, but he can't take care of himself so he needs care...and the hospital (insurance) said he had to leave. His nursing home is not a nice place, but with VA insurance limitations and various other homes not having room for him, for one reason or another, he doesn't have a choice right now. My Mom has been a warrior saint and has been with him constantly. She tried to have him at her house instead, but after one night she wisely realized that his needs were beyond her capabilities. She feels terrible about this whole chain of events...but she shouldn't. She has done her best, and our best and prayer and trusting God is all we can do. The whole family is hurting and sad because we feel like we should be able to do more...but we can't right now.

I thank you for your concern and continuing prayers. If he could recover from the stroke, and get back to walking, he could go home.

Remember This

"The door to a balanced success opens widest on the hinges of hope and encouragement."

Yes, that is me...me and Mable Lorraine. Do you remember your first Cabbage Patch kid? Do you remember it's name?

How Having Kids Saves Me Money

Okay...one example of how having two boys saves me money.

The equation is amazingly simple.

Ready?

Take notes.

Get pregnant twice + keep a little baby weight + potential for getting slimed is high = shopping for clothes is not as much fun as it was pre-baby, so I don't.

It's a good thing too, because otherwise I can assure you that I would spend my very last penny on every single piece of Isaac Mizrahi's line for Target. I would do it, and I would do it happily, and I would not regret losing my home, or my car, or my savings account because of it. (not really, but the thought of being that drastic is kinda inspiring) These dresses are so pretty! Pretty in the feminine, girlie, retro-lovely kind of way. Almost 1950's...which I love! I live for this kind of pretty, I surround myself with it, yet I don't wear it. I would love to still have my Granny around to make me these dresses. She was a master seamstress and could make anything...better than anyone. I miss the days of having a custom tailored wardrobe. Oh well...I can still think about it anyway.

Look at these dresses, and I dare you to tell me that they aren't pretty. I love pretty and feminine dresses! I want to wear these dresses and not look like Easter Sunday. One day I will! I'll be that dame who wears knee length, pleated skirts with four inch heels. When I'm all done being slobbered on and snotted on...maybe.

See, even with this sort of rash, extravagant thinking I'm still practical. I could easily trade these items for Manolo's and Chanel...but, I can't buy toilet paper at Neiman's.

Look what I found!

NEWSFLASH: all white words in my posts are always links...click them!

I found this amazing blog post today on blogher.org that really, really felt GOOD to read. Especially since I so closely relate to the topic. The subject of which contains this quote "It doesn't take a village to raise a child...it takes a village to support a mother raising a child."

********

I've been really enjoying my membership (oflove) in Blogher.org. It's kinda intense though, because it seems like you really have to be on top of your game to play. I posted a post from my blog about my real nail salon experience...that I thought was a silly little shout out, or homage if you will, to Seinfeld; which, if you don't remember was only one of the funniest and most popular TV shows of all time (except The Office!). I thought everyone had seen Seinfeld. I was thinking "Isn't that correlation great!" And I was thinking how smart that show was because it was so simple and based on the quirkiest parts of reality! (the quirkiest parts are my favorite parts!, which is why I bother to write about them in my own quirky way) While my post was based on my own actual experience of that day, which was frustrating, the post was meant to be more humorous, for all parties concerned. I guess I goofed a little, or a lot, or something, because I got a pretty harsh response from another blogger. But you never know? Maybe she interpreted serious and responded with semi-light hearted questions...or maybe I was being silly and she really replied/interpreted serious?? Or vise-versa!



Did that sound confusing? It is!

That is the magic mystery of typing a version and translating in another version. . . either/or could be correct because it's all in how it's READ. Isn't that one reason why we read/write in the first place? To use our imaginations??

Please let me say that if I ever seemed racist, or all high-and-mighty, and you really believed that about me, from all you've read of me before, then I apologize from the bottom of my heart! I'm so, so, so sorry. I apologize wholeheartedly.

I love ALL PEOPLE! And even if I'm not quite there yet, I know I'm still trying to LOVE ALL PEOPLE. I will be much more vigilant from now on in thinking before I post. I realize my sense of humor differs greatly from some. Neither of us is wrong or more right. But I am happy that it was brought to my attention.



*I'm so embarrassed* **(needing a pep talk)**


I LOVE ALL PEOPLE!

Now I'm exhausted. I've been thinking so hard my ears hurt! This wasn't supposed to be so intense. I am heading back to the more serene world of a three year old now.


A three year old, and his trains...

I asked Noah to tell me about his train. He said "He don't have hands." Like he couldn't find the hands. Then he figured it out and said, "Choo choo's don't have face."

Short Sunday Sermon

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion?

Come to me. Get away with me and you will recover your life.

I'll show you how to take a real rest.

Walk with me, and work with me - watch how I do it.

Learn the unforced rhythms of grace...Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.

Matthew 11:28-30 The Message

Relax! God is not hard to get along with! He loves you, you are no surprise to him! He has called you into a relationship with him...not a religion! Have fun, take time to relax, enjoy your life, enjoy yourself...you are everywhere you go! You are going to be with yourself the rest of your life, you can't get away from you. Do you need to learn to love yourself? (I sure did, I'm getting better everyday!) We all have weaknesses, you don't have to be ashamed or hide them, God understands why you are the way you are, and he accepts you and loves you! If you don't believe that then just ask him to show you how much he loves you, and he will...I promise.

The Message Bible and Joyce Meyer and a little bit Piper.

Luxury?

I have to ask myself the tuff questions sometimes.


While getting my nails done today, for the umpteenth time this year, I finally started to acknowledge some cold, hard truths..."why do I keep doing this to myself, it's not a pleasurable experience" was the hovering realization.

I know the basic motivation. I shake hands with so many people each week, from business owners to state legislators and senators...the least I can do is offer a well groomed hand for the transaction.

Okay, that's a good reason, but beyond that I'm having a hard time rationalizing the whole ordeal. Here's why.

Let's start with the fact that I can't communicate with my Asian friends. For basic English, related to simple nailology, she's good..."what color you want today?" To which I reply "oh, no color, I just want pink and white." From there though it begins to get tricky...fast. The problem could very well lie with me though, but I'm paying for this, and I want it done right and I want it done the way I want it done. I do. If that's so wrong then sue me. All I really want is to get my money's worth and get what I ask for...is that so wrong?

"What shape you want?" "Rounded square." This opens a can of worms. "You want round?" The first worm is named "Piper Uses Too Many Words" (naming it is half the battle) "Well, no I don't want round, I want square with rounded corners. No sharp corners is what I'm trying to say. I don't want my nails to be pointy, I don't want sharp corners on the squares but I don't want round nails that point at the tip either." While not taking her eyes off my hands for even one second, she begins mumbling in her incoherent language. This is such a soft, inaudible, almost nonexistent volume that I always assume that she's talking to herself, until one of her associates retorts in a mega-amplified volume from the other side of the room (How did he hear her? yes "he"). Then there is some laughing. I swear it's like that episode of Seinfeld...the one with Elaine in the nail salon...come on people you've seen it.

What I walk out with is a compilation of three nail techs si-winkered, half cocked interpretations of the Piper language...a dialect of complicated alliteration unfamiliar to the residents of Maxim Nail Salon and Waxing land.

ps. Jackson is my favorite skater of all time!

I'm a blogging chick!

proof of my age...30ish

For some reason when I glanced at my nightstand I thought "hey, that's a story." Not really a story, but a glimpse into my falling asleep head at the end of the day. For my own historical records, here I will display this photo...as an image of who I am right now.

that's collagen treatment wrinkle reducer! (((yikes)))

I think this will launch a new series entitled "About Me." (not another series Piper!)

Remember My Story?

(( click HERE if not ))

I have decided that this project requires a different sort of finesse...different from my normal blogging vibe. I still really think I need to be writing it, I'm just not so sure that I need to blog all of it...mostly because I want to save the meat for the big dogs (if you know what I mean).

I maybe, kinda-sorta, got a little overly ambitious as well. Trust me when I tell you that this could be a 40 chapter series *easy*, and to do that and do it well, I really need to devote a lot more time and thought and prayer to it before I drop a final copy. So I'm going to keep working on it (when I have time), and perhaps I'll periodically drop a few summarized chapters here and there...rather than just rush through it. I want to do it right is what I'm trying to say.

I'll keep my blog simpler this way too! So, yay for me and my little executive decision...

PMS Revisited. All Crazy Rights Reserved.

Well, now I know what the problem is.

It dawned on me this afternoon, while sitting at my desk under time-crunched deadline, that the sporadic stabbing pain in my tummy wasn't stress, it was the other thing...that time-o-month when my little eggs-o-love start looking for fertile ground.

I had been unusually quiet this morning after my rage-a-thon last night (see my last two posts). Since I'm not the quiet or reserved type, at some point in the day the guys on my ad team seemed to catch on that something was up. I guess that their keen bloodhound tracking senses were sparking all six cylinders, they were smart to leave me be. It was obvious to everyone else too, I guess, that I was...what's the word...moody. Other colleagues that are normally, um, not pleasant, were actually really nice...but still keeping a healthy distance from the fiery redhead who could obviously blow at any moment. Those college degrees are paying off.

Heaven help me, sometimes I think that PMS pops in for a visit just to help me get random stuff accomplished! I think the internal fire is motivating. Not happy, cheerleader, motivating (thank God because I would probably choke that cheerleader out!), but more like Wall Street floor trader motivated. As in bursts of sudden, unexplained urgency to bleach all my whites... right NOW! (when else would I do that with energized zest). When the ability to care less about my behavior kicks in it's empowering. Like I don't care at all that I finally stood my ground to that old hag bag at work who tries to get us all canned, all the time, for no reason. I'm a warrior on a mission, don't get in my way!

It's a good thing this only last a few days..."complete bitch" doesn't suit me.

Cry Baby

Below is a list of my demands.

1. I want a brand new wardrobe, fresh in my closet when I wake up in the morning.

2. I would like for the new season of "The Office" to begin immediately! Call someone.

3. I want more comments!! I want more comments!! I want more comments!!

4. There is this purse by Sigrid Olsen that I'm craving like friggin' Lay's Salt & Vinegar potato chips. Neither of which can be found anywhere in Oklahoma City, and it's a mystery as to why not? It's coming close to ranking #1 on the list of my demands. Lay's people, what's the deal??

5. I want some Lay's Salt & Vinegar potato chips. Lay's people you're killing me! You sell them in Maine, Wyoming, Colorado, etc. But not Oklahoma? Do Okie's look like the types of people who refrain from water retention, I mean seriously...what is the deal?

6. I want to find that thing I lost two weeks ago...it *poof* vanished...I'd like it to *poof* reappear now.

7. I want to go OUT this weekend. A movie, dinner, the whole works! I just want to go out and do something fun without my kids. That's not too much to ask.



Basically, I quit until one of these things happens. Okay. Great, thanks for your cooperation.

I'M SO PISSED OFF

Yep! I used harsh language just then, and in computerese I even yelled it.

What the crap is the problem with my posts??? I'm going crazy over here! It must lie in the Html somewhere...or something...but I can't figure it out and bloggerland is seeming to thumb it's nose at me and my best efforts.

Sometimes my posts look exactly like I designed them to look.

Sometimes they don't. Even though I did nothing different than what I normally do.

In places where I put spaces between paragraphs...sometimes they stay put and sometimes they scrunch back together. I have no idea why. Sometimes my posts come out with double spaced lines, which I enjoy but have no idea why or how it happened.

I always sigh. *sigh* and patiently re-open it to try and fix it. Usually this is an exercise of utter futility.

What is this, a cruel joke! I try to make my flippin' blog have curb appeal and immediately upon pressing "publish post" I am reduced to a nincompoop.

Do I need to hire an IT guy to sit with me and examine my Html for sanity's sake!?

I am THIS close to punching my computers lights out!

THISCLOSE!

Beauty For Ashes

Jackson, age 2

Last night and tonight too, I am only the mother of one.

Noah has been with my Mom, I don't really know why, she just wanted to keep him. And you won't hear me complaining. Of course I love both of my sons, but you know.

The thing is, only having one kid in the house is so totally different than having two. There is a higher level of serenity and less of a sense of urgency, which ultimately means I am relaxing a little easier. No brotherly bickering either. I remembered last night that I am cool, and good with kids, my kids even. It was great to get to spend some alone time with Jackson. I haven't had that in a really long time.

Yesterday, being September 11, brought back all kinds of memories. Besides the obvious, I remembered mostly who I was on this day, six years ago. I was a newish Mommy of a just-turned-two year old. We lived in Colorado and my husband had just flown off to California the evening prior for meetings. The next morning when I woke up I turned on the TV at the same time as he called to ask me 'are you watching this?!'

That day was very surreal (duh). I was alone with Jackson and I didn't know if the world was coming to an end or not. I began to think about the kind of world I was raising this boy in, how would I take care of him and protect him. Would I be able to? This was one of the two or three days...moments...when I began to make decisions about this boys life, and my role in it. I decided that I was going to love him without limits. That I was going to get to know him inside and out and take delight in him forever and always. I decided that day that he was my point, he was what I was supposed to do with my life, if nothing else, and I would never shirk that responsibility.

Did it take a tragedy to bring me to this? No, but it did get me thinking in the right direction. After all, the baby years are really hard, and I think maybe my focus was more on the finer details (nursing every two hours, sleepless nights, etc.) than on the big picture.

September 11, 2001 was a 'big picture' day.

September 11, 2007 was another big picture day. MSNBC re-aired all of the unedited footage from the monumental morning in 2001. Jackson and I cuddled on the couch, and I let my now 8 year old watch it, and I watched him experience the tragedy for the first time... all under my protective wings. I answered his questions. We talked about hate, and God's love of all of us, regardless.

Last night when I put him to bed the hug was newer and bigger than maybe any other hug I have ever received from him. When he told me he loved me, even though I've heard it out of his mouth at least 40 million times, it was exceptional. I realized that, even with everything we've faced together, I have succeeded in becoming the kind of mother that I set out to be six years ago. It was a beautiful *sniff*


Beauty for ashes.

Chapter Two: Blissfully Aware

My Papa and me, age four.

Even though I didn't have a father, I never thought I was missing anything. I was loved, felt loved and was taken care of. I remember my childhood as a very happy one. There was nothing normal about it though...compared to other kid's "normal" childhoods, I mean.

I was always somewhere different. Whether it was with a random babysitter, a friend, or my Grandparents; the actual amount of time I got to spend with my Mom was very limited. This was because she was an amazingly hard worker. She worked all the time, always two jobs and sometimes three jobs at a time to provide for me. Working these hours meant days, nights, and weekends. She was determined to provide for me...and she did!

A short list of side jobs that I remember my Mom having include: waitress, mowing lawns, cleaning horse stalls at the state fair. Eventually she landed a real, career kind of job with the city, working for the parks and recreation department...she oversaw the greenhouses and the flowerbeds all over this huge city. Even with that though, she was still forced to work additional jobs so we could get by.

There was never anything that could remotely be described as luxury, or excess, or a want. Our lives needs were always met though, and even when stretched very thin (very very thin), I never once went hungry. Many times for dinner my Mom and I shared one can of tomato soup, or one can of green beans. All of my clothes were hand-me-downs, or made for me by my Granny. I loved this though. Handmade clothes made me feel special and doted on...I was allowed to rummage through Granny's scrap fabrics and pick the prettiest, I got to chose fabric off of sale bolts too, and sometimes I got dresses made out of one of Granny's old dresses!

Everything was seen as an adventure!

Mom and I moved constantly! Every six months, give or take, depending on a lease being up or any other number of reasons. I'm not one of those kids who has a "home." We lived in lots of apartments, mobile homes, garage apartments, and even shacked up with other families and my Grandparents from time to time. Usually we shared a bedroom.

This was also considered, by me, to be a cool new adventure each time. I have always been an optimist!

I changed schools with every move too. By 7th grade I had gone to six different schools, one of them twice, a few years apart though.

What all of this constant change created was a girl who was highly adaptable, and never ruffled feathers, or complained. I learned that with each move to a different school I could become a new person. I learned how to be friends with everyone! I learned to never consider my own self, and that if I was cute and happy, friendly and outgoing I would be always be tolerated, if not accepted right away.

The one constant in my life was church. I was there every Sunday, twice a day...and on Wednesday. We never missed a service! Missing a church service was an unspeakable offense to everyone at church and in my family...unless of course you were in the hospital...then the church came to you.

My Mom was unable to always be there for me physically, or emotionally. But she was always there with the correct discipline...I was perfectly behaved and always pleasant to be around. I had to be, because I was always in a different place, with someone other than my Mom, and I had to be easy to take care of. And I was! I never threw fits, or talked back...if I did I was corrected forcefully and I learned the difference between right behavior and wrong behavior...I memorized it.

I did spend some very special moments with my Mom, sometimes. When I was with her, and she wasn't working, we would escape to the woods. We went camping, often without a tent. She was a masterful outdoors(wo)man. I learned to camp and to "go behind a bush". I learned to build a fire and sleep under the stars. While my Mom slept (which was quite a bit) I roamed creeks and explored the woods...alone.

In the times when I was scared or lonely...which was often...I prayed. I learned who God was, and who He was to me at a very young age. In fact, I don't ever remember not talking to God. To me, it was a running conversation. For this experience, for this uncommon and keen awareness, I am eternally grateful. I have learned what it means to depend on God. He has never left my side, and I have never doubted that. What a blessing, considering that in the years to come I would have to be able to depend on Him more...and more...and more.

Chapter One: Along Came Piper

I was born in the summer of 1976 to an unwed, 19 year old, preachers daughter. A southern, small town, preachers daughter. If you don't know what I'm eluding to here, then I'm obliged to spell it out for you. Back then, being a pregnant, single, teen-aged daughter of a minister in a (somewhat uptight) Pentecostal denomination came with a huge stigma. She was never shunned from her church, or her family, but opinions were thrown around flippantly and the ridicule and shame associated with her from then on was beyond oppressive. This "guilt" would live with her the rest of her life.

The ONLY thing my Mom was guilty of was being a normal 18 year old girl. What she did was only exactly the same thing that nearly every other girl of that age does. She was testing the waters and sowing her wild oats.

When my Mom was 18 she went to a party with new friends, partied, and in the course of the evening had sex (for the 2nd time ever!) with someone she met at the party. Approximately three months later she realized that she was pregnant. Because she did not know this boy, and didn't know anything about him, when she finally tracked him down to tell him she was pregnant he blew her off saying that I was not his. Defeated and scared, she gave up the idea of him completely, and set about becoming a single and totally alone new mother.

I have never met him. I only know his first and last name. I have never seen a photo of my biological father, and I probably never will. I don't know anything about him at all. Where he is from, how old he is, I literally know NOTHING about this man. To me, he was just a sperm donor, and I am immensely glad that my Mom found the courage and strength to keep me. She did have other options. In fact, most of the people around her were encouraging her to do away with me somehow. A woman in the church even made adoption arrangements with another couple, as if she was doing my Mom a favor.

When I was born, I was born into a world where compassion for a girl like my Mom was not thought of. There would be no DHS to help her with anything...i.e. formula, diapers, child support, transportation, rent. There were no support groups. There would be no family to help her in any respect, beyond prayer. Her life became almost impossible. But she did it!

So, I am the product of a young girl who had nothing but huge obstacles facing her at every turn. That impoverished looking teenage girl you see around town, hauling a baby on her hip...I am that baby. I have lived that life.

It would not be long into my life before I began to understand the gravity of my Mother's "mistake." Though it would take years before I would have words for it, I always knew that her life was the way it was because of me. Even though she never put this on me, I have always felt directly responsible for her happiness...or lack there of.

(I don't have any photos of me as a baby - they do exist, I just don't have any - but I will try to add some sort of flair to each post. Remember, this is only the beginning of a long story, full of twists and turns...much more to come. . . and I love you Mom!)

Chapter One......NOT!!

Did I forget to say that these weren't going to be consecutive (as in 1,2,3,4) chapters?

Well, that's probably because I didn't know that at the time.

As it turns out, I'm a bit of a wimp...right now.



I just spent nearly two days writing the first post in My Story, I quad-ripple checked it, and then checked it again...(to check with myself, at various points in the day, to make sure I was comfortable saying all this)...and I WAS TOTALLY FINE WITH IT!!



I EVEN POSTED IT!



Then three hours later I panicked...it was titled Along Came Piper, it was about how I came into this world! Yikes! It's still too early for my biogrophy to hit the charts (maybe by a few days)...so I saved it back, as a draft!



OK...okay...I'm suddenly very extremely sorta AFRAID.



So, please bear with me while I pray about this a little longer.

Does this ever happen to anyone but me????

Seriously people ?

(I can't believe they look so grown up today!)

In the mean time though,

Please do continue to enjoy regular postings about my semi-un-normal, day-to-day life.

x!o!u!,

Piper

Disclaimer/Preface

Before I dive right in to the details of my story, I need to make a few things clear. This is primarily directed to those people who's names I will be mentioning, first name only of course. It would be impossible for me to tell anything about my life without mentioning my mother, my ex husband, friends, and other key people who have impacted my life and the choices I've made that brought me to the place I am now.

I will only tell the truth, as I know it to be, I will not exaggerate. At no time will I be accusing anyone or placing blame on anyone for anything. I am not going to be retaliating or stabbing anyone in the back either. What this is going to be is my grown-up, mature, responsibility-taking version of my life up to now. That said though, I will also not be tiptoeing around hard facts, or bitter events in order to protect any one's feelings...I can't do that and still be true to my story and my truth. These stories will not be easy for me to rehash. Writing this is going to require me to go places that I haven't gone in years, because I've blocked it out in efforts to move beyond it. I do believe that the purpose of telling my story is to bring healing and clarity to me, but also, more importantly, to perhaps reach out to someone else who could use my perspective, my life, my survival, and my hope to help them in their own journey toward healing and self-acceptance.

I also hope to show how the Lord has been with me, protecting me, keeping me, loving me, guiding me through each of my life's up's and down's. God will get all the glory for my life, and if my story blesses anyone, to God be the glory for that as well.

All the people in my life, each and everyone of them, have served a great purpose and I am thankful now for each of them. I am the woman I am now because of each person and experience I have had in my life.

In order to be as brief and pertinent as possible I am only going to post about key pivotal moments. I sometimes feel like I have lived the life of an 80 year old already, so I will have to be selective in the picking and choosing of stories to tell.

If at anytime you have questions or need more explanation or understanding please let me know. I'm going to file all of this under "my story." As with everything else that I do, I will still be optimistic, try to be humorous, and relevant.

Hang on kids...it's about to get interesting!

It's Come To This

click here for more reference to this picture & post

I'm feeling (it's more like a voice screaming at me from inside of me) like it's time for me to start writing about something . . . it's going to be a long story, done in several posts . . . but it's going to be my story. My story is uncommon, dramatic, and adventurous. The twists and turns are all what made me who I am today . . . a woman who is finally coming into her own, finally embracing her own identity . . . voyages into bravery, trust, and faith . . . is beginning to see dreams come true, and is a living testament to the genuine goodness of God.

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This is my story thus far into adulthood anyway. It will be about the choices that I've made and the direct results of them. The expanse will journey through bitter depression, divorce, anxiety attacks and then into happiness, healing, and the restoration, and the many ways that God is bringing fulfillment in my life...one of which is through this blog. (God works in mysterious ways!)

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The big question isn't "do you want to hear it?", it's am I brave enough to do what God is asking me to do...am I brave enough to tell a story that might help other people, and am I willing to expose myself to be a blessing to even just a few?

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I think that the Lord allows us to go through things for the sole purpose of being able to use that experience someday as a moral, or learning tool, or a blessing to others. I did ask God to allow me to be a blessing to others. I did ask God to allow good things to come from all that I have been through. Didn't I? Yes, I did. And now it seems he's asking me to do this...in this way...and I have to do it.

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I hope I can do a good job, this is going to require me to be in constant prayer about what to say and how to say it too. (God has his ways of getting you to spend time with him) This will ultimately be a praise report. A testimony of how God's hand is always at work in our lives, even when it's not obvious. What is about to transpire will be a remarkable journey, and I would like to thank Emery for giving me the inspiration for this through the telling of her own journey (Emery's blog rocks!). I am pretty sure that it blessed her to tell it, but I know it blessed others as well...so that sounds like a win-win to me.

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Here goes nothing...

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If you read this, please drop me a line from time-to-time, I'll need the encouragement and your feedback will fuel me...I'll need that too. Thanks.

one of those days...

For a while now I've been sitting pretty in all kinds of good vibrations. Everything in my life, while still challenging and non-stop, has been sailing along smoothly and I've been happy. Nothing is really especially different about today...except that for some reason I'm extremely melancholic.

It's been one of those days though, were every little thing has a glitch and the normal details are requiring more effort than usual...and I don't really know why. I'm caving to the stress I'm feeling about work and money and bills and work and relationships and money, so I suppose that has something to do with it. Plus, last weekend was crazy and I have to work this weekend as well.

This is the time when it's important to remember what I have, and remind myself to count my blessings. I am amazingly blessed! It's really my attitude that determines my level of happiness and contentment and peace...or keeps me in stress and anxiety and steals my joy.

I'm glad that I am finally at the place in my life where I have disciplined myself to recognize the warning signs of a bad attitude, and take back my good attitude. It's a choice. My attitude is the only thing I really have control over, and it will make or break me. Circumstances come and go, things change, upheaval happens regardless of who you are or how much money you have. It's called LIFE...and it happens to the best of us.

What I really NEED is some real, honest to goodness Piper Time. Maybe an entire day, or weekend when I don't have to think about everything all at once. My multitasking lifestyle is exhausting, and I am weary. I just need some rest probably...but, I'm a single Mom. Getting anyone to help me requires me to be indebted in one way or another, and I just can't handle one more obligation of any kind. So, I will just keep trucking along...praying for more strength everyday...living on my daily bread . . . as usual.

This quote hangs in my office at work...because I'm Quotey McQuoterson, it gets me by.

"The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company... a church... a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past... we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our Attitudes.” ~ Charles R. Swindoll

Special Power Delusions

There are certain things that I want to do. Certain things that I like to do. There are things that I dream of doing one day. And there are the things that I must to do, like it or lump it, I must do them. I know it's that way for all of us, but wouldn't it be great if we could band together and get some must-do's reversed into only-if-you-really-would-like-to's. Or, or, how 'bout this...turn the annoying and repetitive must-do's into do-it-one-more-time-and-you'll-never-have-to-do-it-again's!! YES, by George, I think I've stumbled onto something!

I'm starting with shaving.

I'm going to go shave my legs and armpits now, just one more time...and then be done with it for good! The hair will never grow back, because I don't need it and don't want it. I'll stop banging my head against this brick wall...I'll never shave only to have spiky legs again in two hours.

Okay, it's settled. This is a new law in my world.

Which annoying must-do's are you banishing from your kingdom?

Piper Philosophies. (quote me on this)

"Blogging is to the Internet what Saturday Night Live was to the 80's.

It's all happening now! It's the comedy, and the rare and random entertainment; it's the fresh perspectives and the new brilliant honesty and bravery that is beginning to completely enfluence and define an entire decade."

Yep! It was little ol' me that came up with that!! What do you think?

This is Kerali, one of the founding members of the Piper Empowerment Movement (aka B/F's) . . . est. 5th grade. She is still such a hottie *jealous!*

These two photos are added soley for the cuteness factor.

Slumber Party Success!

A BIG thanks to all of you who left me useful advice and encouraging comments. Operation Slumber Party was a success! (Jeremy told me that for boys these things are called "sleep overs", whuddo I know?)

I had a total of ten boys at one point, but only four of them stayed the night. They were terrific kids to have over too! I mean to tell you that I was envisioning a nightmare, but they are such good boys...albeit definitely BOYS...but I don't think I could have asked for a better experience.

At around midnight I called it a night and lined them up in front of a movie that I knew they'd all seen a hundred times (that was great advice). Everyone was asleep by 1:00 am, and I fell asleep shortly thereafter. They woke up around 6:00 am to play game cube, which had been placed in quarantine the night before to save more arguments...those arguments drove me to the brink of hostility so I quelled it by removing the source, that's a sign of a "good Mom" right? We had six pizzas, devoured completely by morning. Four boxes of Capri Sun, only one spilled...actually it was stepped on and squirted, entirely, all over Dylan's pillow. No injuries, no meltdowns, Jackson was riding on his high horse and it was a great event. I will sleep later.

Here are some pictures:

Get A Map!

Miss Teen South Carolina is not alone, as I recently discovered, when it comes to getting lost on topics like, such as in, America...maps...states...general knowledge of basic geography...etc. Her question surmised that 5% of Americans had trouble with geography...and apparently it's true.

BELOW IS AN ABSOLUTELY TRUE ACCOUNT OF AN UNBELIEVABLE EVENT, I WOULD NOT MAKE THIS UP!

I was at the store the other day and had to show my drivers licence to the cashier. I handed it to him, and he looked at it for a long time...I thought he was searching for my DL# and having trouble finding it.

After a few slow and uncomfortable minutes he asked me, "What is this?"

I said "What is what?"

"What is this state?"

Trying really hard to not be impatient, with two people behind me in line, I offer sweetly, "Wyoming" as if I understand that reading the name of the state off of the licence itself is hard.
He counters "Oh really? What is Wyoming?"

To this I have no answer, I am only able to stare at him in complete bewilderment.

Then he furthers with "Where is Wyoming?"

I say, "It's south of Montana and north of Colorado."

A light comes on, "OH! Yeah, I've been to Montana and Colorado, but I've never heard of Wyoming...that's funny. Have you been there?"

No, Sir, it is actually NOT funny at all, it's pretty sad. That is what I wanted to say. Instead I just took my purchases and left believing that we do need to help South Africa and the Iraq, and the Asia. Also, like, such as in, America...people need to study maps!