Wednesday, 14 May 2014


My friend Lynda says she can’t imagine how anyone living in California can ever be sad. What, with the sunshine and all? 
While no one plans on being sad, low emotions do happen in the rain and the sun.  As we plan our move back to California, I frequently reflect on Lynda’s assumption. I have even made myself a promise to call her on sunny and rainy days. Let her be the judge.

Much like the Irish weather, one day my marriage is bright with satisfying skies; then on other days, it’s covered with clouds, or worse, tense with raging storms overhead. Since we’ve put our livelihood under a microscope this time last year-- DH headed overseas and wee girls stayed in Ireland to tend to ourselves—there has been less lightning and thunder and more layers of fog.  Finally, we have reached a life decision coated in thought and worry and overcast with the weight of unknowing, yet the skies are filled with anticipation and excitement.

It has taken some time for me to get from the last post to this new forecast. At this point of my life, my marriage is synonymous with family. Despite what I’m saying here and now, couples need definition outside of their children. And so, I reread the DeJa Vu post. I can only attempt to defend myself.

I picked him. And I’m not ready to unpick anything.

So here we go uprooting and planting new seeds, as a family. Happily, the soil in California is filled nutrients and warmth.  Among the unknowns of this renewed territory are family and friends full of support.  I can’t wait.

And if Lynda is any bit right about the sunshine,  we’ll be ok.

Monday, 28 April 2014

Guess Who's Coming Back?

The man of the house returns tomorrow morning and everyone is excited.  
Cutiepie's been most excited lately. She said, “finally, someone to hang out outside with me. I’ll have someone to walk the dog with me and practice camogie and football!” We all have our places I suppose. Nevermind that I’m sporting hot pink nail polish of her doing and just yesterday, I drove to three petrol stations before I found her a slushi.
Last month when Babydoll had an exploratory procedure and needed anaesthetics, I naturally treated it as very routine, as it was. Not so for our loopy 11-year-old emerging from induced sleep. Immediately with uncertainty in her eyes and pained certainty in her voice, she said, “can I call Daddy?”  She looked up at me and lifted her hand and gestured two little fingers to less than that of an inch, and said, “sorry, but Daddy, gives just this much more assurance.” 
We have a lot of changes ahead of us, so I guess it is only fair we all cherish our own needs and desires. For the last two weeks we’ve been reprogramming this all girls house. The girls are sulking their way back to their own bed at bedtime. HIS barca lounger is back in its resident corner.  Groceries were beefed up, with, well, more beef.   
It’s like if my girls went to University and I unfolded my sewing in their bedroom in their absence. Of course, I’d gladly pack it all up in anticipation of their return.  I think the daily struggles and life’s plans make us absent minded of all the little details that help to show what we mean to one another.
And discoveries can be surprising, even to some. Yesterday Roisin opened the fridge and gasped loudly. It was just the day before that Babydoll upended a golden syrup container across two pantry shelves, multiple cans, jars with sticky strewn past the washing machine to the floor. So what could it be now in the fridge?  With big eyes, Cutiepie looked at me.  “Wow. Why do we have that in the fridge? We never have beer!”
Because,  I remember the details, that’s why.

Wednesday, 23 April 2014

Freeing the Minds of LiLo and Me

I knew what I needed to do the day I discovered Sad Desk Lunch and Pooping on Bluebonnets.

These websites are for killing some serious time. I am not proud of my time management (or waste). In fairness, I was merely linking from Huffington Post's inside information, Sites You Should Be Wasting Time on Right Now.  (Careful with your time, HP frequently prints a new list, pulling more readers into the black abyss.)

What I need to do is write. Clearly I have found time to waste in my days' routine. In the hours and minutes I spend surfing the internet in a week, there is no doubt several blog posts and even a chapter or two left untouched.

Yesterday I heard Lindsay Lohan say "I'm constantly thinking. My mind does not shut off."  I can totally relate. A mind that never turns off, I'm like her. Minus Oprah and the drama. Well, most of the drama. I've yet to leave my sex list in a conveniently-found location.

My mind overflows with thoughts. With DH overseas and my off-work time filling four-hour commutes and teaching razor care to ever-developing tweens, I'm alone with my thoughts and at times, COMPLETELY overwhelmed. An astute boss taught me long ago to write down these thoughts. He infers it's important to realise we do this not to remember these items, but rather to free our mind of the space occupied by the thought.

I yearn for an audience, someone to listen, someone to react and at times, someone to silence me an equal dose of thoughts, intellectual or nonsensical. Both within reason. For now, writing is my escape and without a doubt, my mind will thank me.

My words may never be a featured blog post on Huffington Post, but I plan to put them out there somewhere. Stay tuned.

Maybe LiLo should consider writing as therapy...for all we know, a blog by her just might end up on the next HP list.