I wrote this about my ancestor a while ago, but it’s been coming to mind lately so I figured I’d share it again.

I’m alive only because people died. Well loved mothers and fathers, wives and husbands. Dead. In the ground. Cold and gone. So that I may be warm and alive and writing to you.

I am the 21st child in my family. Yes, you read that correctly – Twenty. First. I have 20 siblings – some who were cold and gone long before I was born. I have a sister just about old enough to be my grandmother.

I hope you want to know about me first – before we get to the cold and gone people. I am nine years old – I will be ten in just two months. I hate sewing, I hate cooking – especially the feeling of cold, raw meat against my hands, I hate cleaning. I like school and my books. I like to walk on the paths under the trees. My favorite flowers are lilacs. My family has raised me to be Methodist, but I’m not sure that I am. Sometimes I believe I see God winking at me in the sun reflecting off the lake behind our house.

I’m an okay looking child. In the summer my cheeks are usually bright red because I get hot too easily. My hair frizzes around my forehead like a fuzzy little halo. I love fresh, new and pretty dresses. Not that I have ever owned a brand new dress. I’m the 21st remember? Someday I will work hard and earn some money and buy my own pretty dress. One that no one else has worn, that doesn’t have a faint ring of sweat under the arm that is worn down thinner than the rest of the fabric. Someday.

Oh. I forgot to tell you. My name is Kate. I forget things like that sometimes. Manners and whatever. So, Hello. My name is Kate.

My Da’ is Scottish. He was 68 years old when I was born. He’s almost 79 now. An old man – older than most men in the town. He was married for the first time before my mom was even born. Well almost. I shouldn’t exaggerate. His wife Mattie had 10 children before her parts gave up and died, taking her with them. That’s what I heard said once when no one knew I was around to listen.

My Ma’m was 15 when she married “her Bobby”. So when I say I have sisters who could be my grandmas, I’m not telling a story. It’s true. Or could be true. Ma’m had four children and then “her Bobby” died. Seven weeks later she had her fifth child. Thirty-five days after that she married my Da’.

She was twenty-six. He was fifty-five. Without Mattie and Bobby cold and gone, they never would have gotten married and I never would have been here to tell you about it all.

I’d like to stay and tell you more. But I have to go. I think they must be done putting Ma’m in her best dress. The new one she’d just finished last week. Out of fresh new fabric with nothing worn out of it. Ma’m in her new best dress is going into a box to go in the ground to be cold and gone like the others. She made me warm and alive, but now all I feel is cold and gone myself.

745 Breakfast duty – greet students, smile, hurry along to get food, but not too fast because thou shalt not run!

800 See new student coming in with Principal, greet her like she’s long lost kin. Swap breakfast duty with principal, Hug a student back when she hugs me. Even though the hygiene is sketchy. Because I know things about this student that would make me scream in the night if I thought too much about it. Because if this student trusts me enough to hug me, I’m sure as shit gonna give this student that. Take new student to class. Help her choose what she wants for lunch, find her desk, find her a pencil because she has no school supplies. Hear secretary calling my name, while taking permission to test paperwork from a Kindergartner. Go see secretary, get supplies for new student that the office has on hand for students who just aren’t gonna get to go to the great wallyworld to get all new things. Put supplies on my desk to take to her later rather than strolling in “Hey! Here’s yer stuff!”

810 Trying to walk out the door to go to TWO IEP meetings, meet parent in doorway and schedule a different IEP meeting, talk to parent, walk to car, realize I’ve forgotten half my things, go back, get things, get to car, get to meeting 5 minutes late, which is fine because the parents haven’t shown. Commune with sped teacher about all our students.

840 Parents arrive after having a “livestock issue” that made them late. Discuss student one. They are grateful to hear we have ideas to actually GASP teach her since her last teacher said she would be surprised if she ever had the skills to leave home. Uh. No. See also. Duh dumbass teacher. Finish talking about student one, proceed to talking about student two, get phone numbers from parents so we can be sure we can get a hold of them when the inevitable behaviors of student two surface.

945 Return to my building. Take a lunch bag down to the Kindergarten. Peek at new student. Library duty. Mark absent student and mental note to see him later in the week. Document the five other students I didn’t see because I was in IEP meetings. Try to learn how to give a new test. Discover materials are missing. Email sped director about “hey I have a few hundred dollars of test here that is worthless because 13 stimulus cards of clouds and cowboy hats are missing.” Get supplies for new student to classroom teacher.

1110 Look up. Late to pick up “high needs student”. The one they all warned me about. Who I laugh about because she weighs 35 pounds dripping wet. I’ve been threatened by kids twice my size that I was going to be punched in the stomach. When I was pregnant. Before I was showing. This little squeak ain’t gonna phase me. Don’t care how many times she (practically unintelligibly) tells me “shit” “shut up” and “goddamnit”. Go get her. Artic drill her like crazy for 20 minutes. Take her back to class. About face halfway there. Take her to nurse. Because she’s peed out. Get Lysol from nurse and go spray down peed in chair in my classroom. Take her freshly changed back to class as I swing a plastic bag of wet shorts with a song in my heart and whistling a happy tune. Go to lunchroom to make sure my new student will get lunch even though her free lunch paperwork isn’t in the computer yet. Email sped director that I borked something in the computer and no longer have documentation for permission to test on a student who’s parents are not easy to get to respond to things like permission to test notes.

1150 Go to see “student two” who isn’t in his room because he’s in the “buddy room” take barely reading preprimer level in 4th grade student back to my room and watch as he dismantles electronics while looking for batteries as he tells me about being five years old and taking his dad’s motorcycle apart. Smile inside.

1220 Lunch duty. Find out a student has Aspergers and is on a 504. Wonder just who tf is in charge of that since I’ve never known about it. ID a student crying. Let other teacher deal with it. Golden boy of class had told him he smelled like poop because he didn’t wipe. Classy. Shake head as teacher puts golden boy at table alone for the duration of lunch today and maybe the next two days. Jackass.

100 – Observe 2 students in classroom. Take notes. Observe two more students in another class. Go to see other sped teacher, take squeak from pee story above out of her classroom to the principal’s office since squeak was throwing papers on the floor, leg clinging and starting to hit. Principal not there. Sit with her in office till she’s ready to try again. Walk her back to class, direct her on what to do. Watch her pick up papers and NOT ankle bite anyone. Go talk to OT, get cushion for chair to see if it will help a student sit still, take back to classroom, leave note for teacher about it. Glance in at new student. Talk to teacher.

225 Still in my building, supposed to be in other building. Call that teacher, reschedule for tomorrow. Realize I haven’t peed today. Go to workroom, get cut off by gym teacher. Consider peeing on his shoes, go to other bathroom instead. After getting another permission to test form out of my mailbox. Go get student, test hearing. For first time since grad school. Yay! The student can hear! Take her back to class. Reply to email, reply to email, reply to email. Give student two’s phone numbers to office, recite them three times for the three students from that family in our building. Realize student who I’m supposed to “buddy” to the bus on Wednesday will be buddyless today because both the other teachers are out. Go to Kindergarten, get one student packed up to go home, get the other buddy, get him on the bus, meet parent for IEP meeting [this parent used to live downstairs from the Dude and I [AWKWARD], she and her kids don’t recognize me thanks to being out of context, minus thirty pounds and 6 inches of hair] have IEP meeting, wave parent goodbye, mental floss that I have heard her headboard banging, sit at my desk and pant, the [work] day is done.

I’m okay y’all. I’m screamin’ it out. But I’m okay.

I guess that post is one that was in my head one way and came out another way.

I don’t like to be patient. I don’t like to wait and see. I want to know if my energy spent is worth it. Especially after spending so much of the last year on something most definitely NOT worth my energy and then recovering from said energy drain.

If I have an opportunity, I want to know how it will benefit or cost Alex and I. If someone is in my life, I want to know they are invested in me and in Alex. If I have a job, I want to know it will be there next year. If I have a garbage disposal, I want to know what to do when all it will do it sit there and hum at me and not let the marshmallows from the Lucky Charms go down the drain.

I’m not great at having faith, been kicked in the teeth one too many times for that trust to come easily to me. Right now I’m in a situation with an opportunity where if I just KNEW the outcome, I would be content. I DON’T know the outcome, and as my crystal ball is currently on backorder, my role is to wait and find my patience.

I also don’t want to make snap decisions – turn my back on an opportunity because I can’t get all the facts RIGHT NOW! The urge to say fuckit and move on is strong . . .

Emotions, Logic, Pro Con Pro, Sit silently, Pray, Resist. The. Urge. To. Push.

I’m trying to listen to my gut, since I’ve had plenty of lessons in that, and I thought I was getting pretty good at it, but right now my gut my mind and my heart REFUSE to come to any kind of consensus. They are all screaming too and I just. can’t. hear.

So I scream along with them, and like the mom who screams back at the baby because she just can’t take the screaming anymore – it doesn’t do any good.

So I chase my tail so far and fast that I’m motion sick and slightly crazy. (uh, crazier)

So I flip a coin – wait or run, wait or run – I drop the quarter before I am ready, I let it settle to the floor – sick because I think I know what side it is on -

I am wrong – it landed on the side I wanted -

And so I go on.

Yannow the Linkin Park song Bleed it Out?

In my case it’s scream it out.

er. make that

SCREAM IT OUT

I’m just that mess of so much that needs to GET OUT

After a week of being sick . . . without energy . . . the walls of the house closing in as I can.not.function and can only sleep to get the will to get out of bed to cough another day  . . .

I am finally feeling better –  not perfect – but good enough to be stir crazy – to see the clothes on the floor and want to lose my mind.

I’ve had so much time to lay around and think and think and Think and THINK that my thoughts are a tornado of swirls and I can barely catch the tail of my plan, of my future, of whatever I’ve organized in my head to be my next step.

I settle myself into a plan – already forgotten by the next time I think about it – so I have to go through the motions of figuring it out again – spending that energy and that time slowing going freaking crazy in the swirl of thoughts.

I have no doubts about what is important. I *know* VERY CLEARLY what I want, what I hold most dear. I am done with the old, the broken. I know the direction I want to take my Alex and I, yet we aren’t moving that way – we are sitting at a red light of the intersection of life, watching the traffic whizzing by, inching forward , wondering if the sensor missed our presence, wondering just how long till we get to go OVAH THERE (for the loveuhgawd!)

I am standing here in my mental superhero cape poised and ready to jump but stuck waiting for the flag to drop to tell me it’s go time.

So I will sit here and SCREAM IT OUT.

Smelly Dawn, Smelly Dawn,
You smell like vapo rub
Smelly Dawn, Smelly Dawn
Wow barking co-ough!

You sound like a smoking vet
You’re not gonna sing at the Met
Smelly Dawn, Smelly Dawn
Wow barking co-ough!

Your students think you are insane
Your memory has gone down the drain
Its hard to know if they know their sounds
When your head feels like its in the ground!

Ev’rybody!

Smelly Dawn, Smelly Dawn,
You smell like vapo rub
Smelly Dawn, Smelly Dawn
Wow barking co-ough!

I’ve been asked how I got to the other side, how I went from head in a bottle in bed to joy. It’s lots of stuff, but here’s the book list so far.

1. I Thought It Was Just Me (but it isn’t) Telling the Truth about Perfectionism, Inadequacy and Power Brene Brown, Ph.D., L.M.S.W.

I heard Brene at Blissdom and bought two books from her. This book talks about how shame isolates us and makes things worse on everyone and how empathy is always the right answer. It’s a pretty academic read, I think she’s a fabulous speaker – so you may want to check out the TED site or search the net for some of her audio/video presentations before trying this one.

2. Part of The Power of Positive Thinking by Norman Vincent Peale

My mom mentioned Guideposts, I went to the site, I found this. Basically, check in with God/Your gut to see if what you want is the right thing, if yes, then create the picture in your mind and go out and get it.

3. Healing Parents – Helping Wounded Children Learn to Trust & Love by Michael Orlans and Terry M. Levy

I  know. You are saying, uh, parenting book? Well. The Dude comes from a fucking fucked up dynamic and there were some similarities between him and the adopted child of a friend. So she recommended this book. I read parts of the book and found things in there that really drove home the work I needed to do with Alex.

4. The DNA of Relationships by Dr. Gary Smalley

Recommended by David B. who can’t keep it in his office because people always take it to read it. Best of the book – protect yourself, respect yourself, “The No Losers Rule”. It gives actual “here, try this communication tip” as opposed to “open communication with your partner”. It’s a really easy read, and I’d tell you more details about it, but CarrieTini absconded with it to Arizona. It’s a lot of Christian based stuff – which for me is fine, but I really wish they would write a secular version of it as well – I think the information in there won’t get to some people because they will be turned off by the “Jesus Stuff” Which sucks because, damn, this book is good.

5. The Shack Wm. Paul Young

As my friend David B. put it, “I think God is up there going FUCK YEAH! someone GOT IT!” It explains God and the Trinity in a way that made sense to me. This is the book that taught me the forgiveness lessons. It’s a work of fiction, much in the same vein as The daVinci Code is – as far as an author taking facts/beliefs and building a story around them. David B. told me about it, I ran across it at the grocery store and bought it, CarrieTini mentioned it that same night – apparently this book wanted me to read it.

6. Secrets about life every woman should know – ten principles for total emotional and spiritual fulfillment by Barbara DeAngelis Ph.D.

This is a gift from CarrieTini – the gist – “I Choose Joy” “Grow Little Butterfly Grow” (There’s more to it of course, but it’s one of those that we have had to read in small doses, chew on, discuss, read some more. I’m still chewing.)

–

On the bookshelf

The Gifts of Imperfection – Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are Brene Brown, Ph.D., L.M.S.W. – The other book I bought after hearing her speak at Blissdom

Hold me tight: seven conversations for a lifetime of love - Sue Johnson – rec by CarrieTini’s therapist.

Mother-Daughter Wisdom by Christiane Northrup, M.D. – love other stuff she’s written, figure this is another I’ve always meant to read.

Dear Amanda,

Your words move me, touch me, comfort me, support me, make me nod and smile, make me ache, make me joyful.

I have called your words perfect. Your words have helped me evolve on my own motherhood path.

Buying shoes with you in San Francisco while tiny Finley Frost was wrapped to your chest (before your flight from hell home zomg). Chicago when you physically and emotionally ached for your little one. New York when I only had a moment to tell you that your experience changed my life.

These fleeting moments with you are like the bows that occasionally get the tie the ribbons of connection I feel to your words.

I am, and I will be, forever grateful for your presence in my life, your friendship, and your support.

Much love, thank you, and Happy Birthday,

Dawn

My exercise of the week is to make a list of the kind of people I want in my life – which after this last weekend, is a joy to do because they have been the best possible example of who I want in my world.

I want people who want to get me. ME ME ME ME.

I want people who laugh at my stories.

I want people willing to teach me – not drill me, not tell me wrong, or make me feel like I’m wrong – I want people who know things I don’t and who will share that with me.

Which is a two way street – I want people who will listen to what I know and have to share, ’cause, baby, it’s a LOT.

I want my heart to feel happy when people are around – this is just a heart/gut kind of thing – no mind over matter, just that connection that doesn’t have to make sense, just has to be present.

I want creative people – ideas, writing, music, design, building – I’m unpicky about the outlet, I just want the spark of desire to make something

I want people who will call bullshit. With love. Because they are looking out for me, not because THEY wouldn’t do it MY way, but because they love me.

I want people who are happy. Joyful. Or want to be and are doing the work to find that joy. I’m good with a journey, and being on that journey with people.

I want people who like my music. Preferably who can sing the entire volume of work by the Indigo Girls.

I want people who encourage me. Cheer me on. And who actually want me in their cheering section.

I want dreamers – people who can dream big about SOMETHING and enjoy that dream rather than being sad that the dream isn’t true TODAY.

I want people who understand that family isn’t necessarily blood relations and DNA. Especially for Alex – I don’t regret not having any more children, but I will be very sad if my life doesn’t provide a soul sibling for him. God knows how much I love mine.

I want people who will share their own concept of God with me, Who are growing and willing to talk about their way and my way of understanding.

I want people who can manage their money – I don’t care if they have tons or none at all – just be able to work with what ya got.

And of course, I want people who love mac n cheese, and won’t put pepper in it.

1. I don’t check voice mail. Text me.

2. I cannot play any sports. Sad Panda.

3. I only buy super soft sheets.

4. I can’t sleep on huge pillows.

5. I don’t like pepper.

6. I won’t eat beans. Any of them. Gag.

7. I adore all things Joss Whedon.

8. I can’t shop at Victoria’s Secret.

9. I don’t wear perfume. I would, but I just don’t.

10. My answer for dinner could always be Mac n Cheese.

After all the pain and growing and struggle.

After realizing I’m okay. I’m enough. I’m happy. Admitting to the world I like myself.

After choosing joy.

The opportunity for brand! new! shiny! happy! giggles! is amazing.

Being wise about this happy – enjoying the warmth of it, the beams of it coming off me, the uh, forgetting what I’m doing and daydreaming in front of the green tea at the grocery store like a tool . . . where was I . . .

Knowing my happy isn’t dependent on another person lets me be more joyful when others march to my drumbeat.

Knowing I’m okay just as I am let’s me open up to another person, to my friends, take a risk in throwing words out there, discussing ideas, being honest.

Being Me.

I am happy with me. And man I missed me. The real me.