Showing posts from 2010


One can not leave a Zumba class in a bad mood I say. I love dance fitness. The class is full of men and women of all ages. I see 100 year old folk in there, okay some really seasoned dancers are in there, and I relish at the opportunity to watch em all! My favorite is the belly dancing intertwined with sexy Latin dances. Of course the first few times you go in you are as stiff and gangly. Talk about being dorkalicious. Then after a few classes, you could see yourself dancing with, or something. The class is pretty powerful. The energy is vibrant and exhilarating. The world music that is played and the mix of ages and cultures that attend create an atmosphere that has moved me to laugh and even well up with a tear. My favorite character is the older gentleman that shwoops up his hair, about like a swirl cone and hair sprays it abundantly. It is distracting after awhile, but I esteem his tenacity. All the shaking and jiggling - all -about to the Reggieton is about as ent

Self Image

I get so burned when I see displays of women scantily clad in advertisements , even Victoria's Secret are out of line. If your children are embarrassed to hand you the mail with those catalogs in them, they have gone too far with the half dressed models. I just want my daughter to believe that women are to be cherished, admired yes- but in a sanctimonious way. I want them to be revered for their beauty within, I'd love for their wisdom to be as much apart of any accolades they receive as much as their looks are. I always tell my children how wonderful they are, of course I ask em' why the heck they are soo cute all the time (it's my moral obligation), but I also say, "Did I tell you how smart, wise and wonderful you are today?" I know the world will do a real bang up job telling them how wonderful they are, right? I know when I was a child I had the red hair and freckles that every one loves to point out. I did not really get a complex because of that, I go

Your Heart is so Pretty

Michael and I got, married in downtown Las Vegas. We literally we wearing jeans and slippahs. My hair was in a ponytail, and I had a coke stain on my shirt. We were whisked away in a limo, and my nephew was our witness. The ceremony was short and sweet - we didn't even have rings. During the ceremony the minister pulled a rock out of his pocket shaped like a heart. He said to exchange it with each other during the good times and the times we need an extra special touch. It sits on our bedside table, and we use it sparingly. I may find it with a note of love, or I have put it in Mike's pocket so he would find it when he is at work and needs love. Today, our two-year old daughter Serena found the heart on on bedside table. She said, "What is this?" I said, "It's my heart." She gloated over the rock, and looked up and said; "Your heart is so pretty, I love it." Then, (she must have known it had immense value) because she said, "Can I hold it


I noticed my darling children cry all the time, whereas the adults in my life never cry. My kids are never stressed, or pent up in frustration or anxiety. I think it is because they cry when they need to. I never forbid them to cry; I say cry it out if you must . If they cry I give them sympathy. Unlike adults, we can stop tears so readily that it is more unnatural to cry than to hold back. Adults are too busy trying not to look ugly. The tissues come out and all the incessant wiping, and uncomfortable feelings that go on is a sight we all turn from. Notice if grown up cries everyone turns away to not look upon their humanity as if it were invasion ? I consider children as pure and true to themselves when they cry - as we all should be. I actually cried today when I felt the need instead of the typical holding it all in. To steal from The Grinch - My face was leaking . It was a familiar, natural feeling but restrained so long that only two tears leaked out and wet my cheek. It felt goo


Plato in his Timaeus stated, "behold we are not an earthly but a heavenly plant." When I was little, I went to the Oklahoma State Fair and saw my grandma's roses that were exhibited in competitions. I was so young, but I could recall an exquisite rose (the size of my head) that was unbelievably healthy and pretty. I was beaming with pride to see the first place ribbon on it. Her backyard was a gardener's garden. It was a haven for all. There was a tree with a bricked patio surrounding it, and a bench to sit on and enjoy the spectacle all about. All around the yard were rows of flowers. She actually had them labeled, and presented in a lovely array within categories. Hers was no hodge podge garden, Emma Jane's garden had amazing purpose and power. I am sure she spent many hours working in her sacred place. Imagine how fun it was to play in it, and celebrate Easter there. I have the gift of her green thumb. I know her children are plant charmers as well. My twin

Eating Sponge Cake

I clean everyday. If, perchance I miss a day of cleaning we may not be able to walk through our house. Therefore, I incorporate cleaning into my children's lives by insisting, "I am not your maid, please pick up after yourself." Whenever messes are made, I simply ask my children to clean them up. Even as young as a two year old can use the almighty paper towel. Serena, (the two year old) wanted to help me clean one day. So I gave her a sponge and asked her to clean her sister's bouncy seat. Serena was just wiping away the crumbs that accrue from an eight months old's day to day messes. I was so confident in Serena's ability to clean, that I left the baby in her bouncy seat and really got into my dishes at hand. I looked up often to make sure all was well - to see Serena had left her post to carry on about the business of a two year old in exploration. Gabriella (8 months) was happy as a lark in her bouncy seat, eating the sponge ! Thankfully, I had just retri

Big Girl Pants

"My children I would not change for all the leisure and pleasure that I could have without them." - Harriet Beecher Stowe Mother of 7 (including one set of twins) Tonight, I just wanted to poke my nose in a good book, maybe write a little if I felt so inclined and just sprawl out in relaxation. I put the last child to bed and took one more load out of the laundry because I hate it when it sours. Much to my chagrin, there was a dirty diaper that accidentally got washed. I felt like throwing the entire load in the trash, however that would not be using my good Girl Scout wits of " using my resources wisely ," now would it? I suppose I say all of this to make the point that when you feel like giving up, or you feel like it is just too hard - pull strength from those who have gone before us. Or like my beloved friend, Debbie Starr (who is now with Great Spirit) would say, "Put your big girl panties on!"