There was a big celebration with the last three doctors all on different parts of a giant space ship

Each had a guide that kept him (mostly) out of the paths of the others.

My Doctor was on the part of his timeline where he didn’t know he’d fallen in love with me yet                              .

Somehow, and of course, time gets all wibbly wobbly here—I  am searching for him and end up talking to him “Yes, I’m your guide, yes there is a good reason for that but no I can’t tell you.”

He says he’ll be right back, to wait and we’ll pick up the tour in a moment.

I’m left looking sadly over the bow of the ship as it glides through space.

When suddenly, the Tardis shows up, he runs out,

kisses me squarely on the lips

then runs back inside just as he comes around the corner

I haven’t had a lot of happy lately, with our kitchen ceiling caving in and finding out that just as we paid off our debt we have a lot A LOT of money to spend right away on major home repairs. And the other stuff, so this was a very nice thing.

First of all I have to say how Terry Pratchett has shaped my adult life. I wish I could start every entry I ever write about so many things with what he’s done for me and for not killing myself.

Terry Pratchett made me laugh in the bathtub the day I was going to off myself. MANY years ago. And that stopped me.

It sounds flip now but it really isn’t and anyone who knows me knows that I’m not joking. I’ve had some horrid things happen in my life. Yet I go on. and somehow..well cats, Terry Pratchett
and my husband who read him with me and helped make our daughter, the only one we were able to have… yes. These.. things, people, books.

I thought of this tonight surrounded by friends some much younger, some not so much. And I thought how my fading,drooping face makes me wish not to be a part of now. But I do. It’s just weird getting older.

But now, despite what isn’t happy or even right–the passing of parents who I have not resolved all those things with or the strange joy of watching our child roll her eyes (and yes, there is joy in that, because she becomes independent with those eye rolls) I both wish to not exist and to fiercely stand my ground, living.

And my head that doesn’t look right in the mirror…
This isn’t easy but it isn’t supposed to be. None of this is. It is all supposed to be a challenge, a mountain to climb. It SHOULD be.

Important Things aren’t easy and they shouldn’t be. If they have meaning. I’m not saying good doesn’t flow. But it doesn’t often.

Sometimes you beg for it. As I did with James. I asked the universe for something to go in the right damn order. And it did. It had to go fast because I was getting old and little did I know then (as I do now) that well…I was always only ever going to have the Bean. I was never going to have the two kid lets I wanted. Things were broken from ..from my 20s.

Em is a miracle. The biggest miracle is that I found James and he found me and we made her. Because little did we know after so many other chances she was …is the only.

I met him online… a year went by of talk and knowing…then meeting and then damn if I didn’t know so fast I was going to marry him even if I denied that premonition. But I put that aside
because seriously wtf? I never EVER wanted to get married again.
And then.
It all followed the perfect progression. Courtship. He wasn’t upset with my past or with they fact that I wanted to wait until we were only with each other until we…
and then six months later we moved in together.
And then a year later he asked me to marry him..on Halloween.

It’s all perfect that progression. I can’t help but wish it had happened 5 years earlier. But it didn’t.

And it turns out. ..
There will only ever be the Bean. She is a true miracle because what I found out recently is that all the weirdness way before I met him was premature ovarian failure.

Yet she happened.

Almost 11 years ago. But even before that we found each other. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be .
If it weren’t for her..I wouldn’t be a good person.

Life is fucking hard sometimes, but there are gifts too.

I saved this and saved this because I hoped in the back of my mind I’d have a daughter who could wear it one day.
I wore this in my 20s. Obviously I was smaller and it has shrunk. It looks SO MUCH more adorable on her. And just makes me happy.

It’s probably past time for her to start private voice lessons, but we know she is mature enough to handle the practice now. We usually both try to take her and then have a few moments of talk while she learns the skills that will make her an even more amazing singer. This is one of the times I’m grateful to live in a college town. The University has a community music outreach program that provides an audition choir and access to private voice lessons. It’s even got me thinking about finding a way to take music lessons again myself.

We feel really happy to have one of those moments you don’t know about when you think about having kids–being able to support and nurture them in their pursuits. It’s really a big feeling.

It’s funny when you think about it. Some things just aren’t around anymore, things I took for granted the Bean has never really seen. Until we went to a vintage furniture store. And it was an odd and somehow touching moment to explain to her that phones when we were kids had no voice control or screens. And no you couldn’t see the person on the other end.

These are my legs, surprisingly.
I thought by now they would be
willowly or enviable, but no they are brick surrounding our well
and mine, mine for years.

This head
I’ve dyed and shaved and curled
still I’m shocked it is mine.
How does it look this way?
Where did those torn eyes come from?
That mouth that someone said could offer him
his grandmother’s candy

This odd body I’ve had, 
It was supposed to change but never did.
I guess I didn’t have enough nerve for the knife
or enough desire to behave into the right
dress or sweater set.

So 
this is age. How unsettlingly settled it is.

There comes a time when you really get it that there is more behind you than ahead of you.

That whatever you see in the mirror –that probably isn’t what other people see. And sometimes they will tell you in really harsh ways.

That you are never going to be as attractive as you were. That no matter what you do you aren’t going to ever be that attractive again, because that time has passed. Now you need to consider looking ‘good for your age,” or even “great for your age.”

That there will be no more children. Not ever. And crying about that often, so often, doesn’t lessen the pain, that nothing does but time.

That you are now officially old.

That it really isn’t going to get any better. This is as good as it gets. That isn’t such a bad thing necessarily. It isn’t like my life is horrific in any sense. It’s just that the expectations of earlier years don’t match up with what I’m living.

I didn’t think being an adult meant constantly worrying if the ceiling was going to cave in or the floor. I mean that literally and metaphorically. 

Somewhere I got the idea that contentment and happiness weren’t the same thing. But at a certain point you get that life isn’t a party, or even often part of a party, that companionship and a general safety and support—that’s the happiness.

But that isn’t what we’re told. We’re told that if we are doing it right we’ll always be passionate about our work, fulfilled and also  passionately in love and—while we’re at it we should be amazing at crafting for our kids and their projects while also effortlessly being physically fit.

That’s a huge load of bull. 

I didn’t think that having kids meant that in order for them to have a life and be safe in this terrifyingly messed up economy you would have to direct them away from professions that might bring them happiness towards things that will foremost enable them to support themselves. The days of doing like I did—getting my degrees in an arts field, figuring out there were no jobs and that I had a talent elsewhere (computers) and sliding into that—well those days are over. It’s sad but the arts—they are really just disappearing. I would never tell our daughter to get a degree in English.

All I can see right now  are how things, like our government, our society, are working much less well than they ever have.  How things are crumbling and falling apart—in  others, in me, in general. Just crumbling. How there is so much more anger and strife than there was. And it’s sad and scary.  I thought this time in my life would be different.

It isn’t the time, it’s me. I have to learn to expect different things, to want different things. To stop wanting many things. To be content I need to look at this time in a completely different way. I guess. Maybe. I don’t know.

So here is what I dreamed last night

Water, dark and darkening
I wake up uncertain.
Did this happen?
wandering out into the hall.

Where are they?

What happened to everything? Why is everyone missing, things underwater

I am unclothed and

cannot find them.

Meanwhile

What do I do?

I’m lost, it’s dark and the water is dirty.

I hesitate to call the things I see anything like a ‘gun control debate’ because I believe most people are reacting from emotion, not reason–just as I am.

I can’t help thinking of all of those kindergarten babies that are dead and then to the high school kids, babies always to their parents. And the middle school children, right in the middle of the hardest school years and never given a chance to see how good life can be. And it just hurts and my Bean hugs me and I feel my chest ache for those parents who won’t ever feel that again.

I have to stop for a minute, I’m crying about this again.

I’m not sure we can ever debate this with logic. I’ve tried thinking about it in less emotional times. 

I was raised with guns. I was taught respect for them. I have been to shooting ranges and I may again.

What I don’t understand are these things:

Why do you need something that sprays bullets really fast? You don’t hunt with that do you? Why would that kind of gun help if someone tries to break into your home–isn’t there a concern about hurting family members as well as the criminals?

Do you really think someone is going to kick down your door and take the guns you own?

If you are a law abiding citizen, why do you object to a rigorous yet fair background check (provided it turns out that way–I guess that might be a problem)?

Why do you need high capacity magazines if you are not on a swat team? Shouldn’t we leave those for law enforcement?

Why wouldn’t the English model work here in the U.S.?

Do you really think armed teachers are the answer? In a number of these shootings they had armed guards and the kids were still shot. Don’t you think the teachers will mainly be protecting the students and the gunman will still shoot them or take their guns and end up with just one more gun?

Why is it a bad thing to regulate gun show sales carefully?

We have driver’s licenses and hunting licenses and fishing licenses–why are gun licenses different?

I understand that bad guys will still get guns. But so will good guys. Why will making high capacity magazines, especially –harder to get why do you object to that?

Is it just that you don’t want the government in your business? I understand that to a degree…I’d like them to stop debating the uterus and uses thereof, since it really isn’t their business.  But is gun control the same thing?

These same people that propose putting a policeman in every school are the very same people who would vote down the tax increase needed to pay for them.  How does that work as a solution then? Would you support that with your taxes? I would I think.

And while we are at it–don’t you think that having more mental health support would have prevented this?  

I don’t ask these questions on Facebook because FB is full of drama and quick snotty cartoons about the matter. I’d welcome a rational discussion about this but haven’t found that anyplace online, of course.  I’ve actually been staying off  except for auto posting (like foursquare or Spotify or things like that) or posting without reading my friends list because this isn’t a discussion for crappy cartoons or snotty one offs. Children are being murdered and that isn’t something you address in those ways in my opinion–it degrades their memory.

I feel strongly we should all be horrified at what happened in Newtown, Aurora, Seattle, Oakland, Tuscon and on and on and work together to compromise and do all we can on BOTH sides of this issue to stop these things however we can. The only way this is going to be solved is by meeting in the middle with rational discussion and those children’s deaths foremost in our minds and hearts.  We can agree on that right? 

Well here’s the thing, not only trying to climb back on the blogging horse, but on the good eating and exercise horse.

A little background: I popped my (previously dislocated and nearly a year of recuperation involving boots and crutches and canes)ankle out in December and had to stop working out.

This is also the time of year when too many snax abound. And because of various stresses I haven’t been good about cooking healthy meals of late. J has stepped up and been doing some excellent cooking but the weekends have been all about bad choices. Which wouldn’t be SO bad if we stopped at a day. Or didn’t get jammed up and make some of those bad choices during the week too.

I did learn around Halloween that the time for Halloween candy (for the most part, kit kats may still be necessary in small amounts) is no longer. It actually makes me sick. And of course once you start you (ok I) keep doing it.  Even if I feel sick. Because sugar? Just the root of all my problems. I get more headaches, I feel tired, I get moody if I indulge more than a little in sugar.

I am also, more and more sensitive to wheat. I find if I don’t indulge in breads and well ,crap white flour things, I am less congested, less ill feeling and certainly less nauseous and achy and tired. I can eat artisanal bread sparingly and it’s fine but not the other stuff. Will be taking a trip the the Arkansas version of Whole Foods /Trader Joe’s( Fresh Market –which needs to move more to Trader Joe’s territory and further away from Whole Foods, especially in Pricing). I can also have home made cookies sparingly. I just have to remember IN MODERATION, which as a Libra, I’m just not that great at (with some things).

So…the upshot of all this is, wow I wish I’d had good eating and exercising habits starting as a kid. We are doing the better eating with the Bean, but could do even better. Still it’s healthier than all the hamburgers and crap J and I ate as kids. But we need to work on getting her more physically active. She’s a skinny mini and that will probably last like it did with J and I until 30 something and then kablooey. I’d like to get her used to moving and eating right now. And we’re better than we could have been but not as good as we need to be. We were MUCH better when she was little, but since I’ve gone back to work…well must try harder. It’s the weekends that get us, and that ONE day during the week everything is just overwhelming. Does that happen to anyone else?

Well so much for THAT boring moment, but hey sometimes you just show up you know?