Friday 13th Paris

I know what I'm supposed to feel, shocked, scared, sad.
I feel non of those things.
I feel like an inevitability came to pass, a small one at that.

I watched a woman today trying to explain things to her child as they stood outside Bataclan.
The horrified kid said " mom, the terrorists were Muslims, but we're Muslims too, are we terrorists?"
She choked up and I didn't catch her reply, but it couldn't have been easy.

I've been feeling it in the air for months now, every village my bus passes through I see these old air raid sirens atop churches and city halls.
I know I'll hear that dreaded wail (the one I've heard only in films, the one that strikes fear into hearts world over), maybe not tomorrow, but soon.
Its coming as surely as winter.

France feels empty, streets deserted, as much as people say they aren't afraid, there is much less eye contact than there was.

We'll be strong, can't let them win, can't give them our tears.

We say this, we hope we mean it.
We mean to mean it.
We do our best.

And it isn't that our situation is anymore tragic than war torn countries, its just novel.
We haven't grown used to the sirens, we haven't had to lay in the blood of friends and play dead to the sound track of automatic guns.
We haven't given birth to 8 children knowing that we will probably lose at least 5 to violence disease or starvation.
We haven't been beaten into feeling that life is cheap.

But just give it time

We have a different culture and will grow into terror in our backyard differently.

Instead of smiling inwardly at the bearded men in dresses, we might be scared.
Instead of having more children because some won't make it, we won't have any.
Spare them and us the loss.
We will stay indoors and become hateful.
We may grow old before we grow up.

But I hope not
I want my kids to have time to worry about global warming and over population.
Not extremists.

I want my son's best friend to continue to be our neighbor next door who just happens to eat halal.

To know through and through that no matter how bad men dress up and hide intend behind a book, that what was bad was the man, not the religion.

To know that life isn't cheap even if you have adapted to the way of life that is always under attack. Even if you have 8 kids and you'll lose 5.
Each was precious. Each was a horrendous loss. And its a attestation to your moral fiber that you carried on.

While we have life we must live.

Its a hard lesson to teach a child but so important.

it isn't me you like.
it's not this pale face
not this person who sleeps before midnight
wakes to a job she hates
and rinse and repeat.

it's fake me
my face years younger
the way it looked when you were inside me
fake me that can turn any conversation into sex
the girl that tells you you could have her again some day
if you play your cards right

I wish I had the conviction to show you the truth
I wish I had even an inkeling that you'd come back for more
a second serving of my lined face and wrinkled belly
the truth of all my mind and not just the pretty parts

if our road had more than one destination
it might be worth showing you the real me

The pursuit of happiness

Somtimes there are these moments.
You're walking home late after work and party, it's hot you're relaxed.
Things just seem to fade away.
I'm 18 again, high, poor..lost and happy to be so.
Making poor choices, nearly going to prison.
Dancing..dancing in that mindless way.
There's that beat.
The beat driving the sound track of my life, the world drips with coulor.
It's raining but it's not.
I'm alone, and it's glorious
I sing "everything is shining, all is gonna be golden, I'll be fine once I get it, I'll be good"
And in this moment I belive it

Know yourself

getting to really know someone is often a give and take.
I rather wish it wasn't. I'd rather have them laying on my couch talking only about themselves while I note down their highlights and shadows..long distance fixing so to speak.
I don't want to get into the dark with them, because so often to really see someone you need to let them see you.

when I was young I liked to fix men, I allways sought out the damaged souls..I would be the gule holding their peices togther.

it's been ages now since I played that game, and while I like damaged men less and less, I have to realize that we are all damaged by now.

and I think I may even want to go into that dark night with you, want to chase the sun

through the looking glass

For all intents and purposes I am a brand new person.
well, more like a second hand person, but in any case no longer who I was.

When I look back at old me it's like I'm looking into stranger.
A very positive stranger, with a strong religious view..and just a general sense of hope.

Life has changed me through it's many varied means.

And though it sounds like I've been beaten down or hopeless, I'm not.
I simply understand things differently now.
Life impacts me in a very real way.
I saw through a glass darkly.

Every decade we look back on our lives, and mark changes in our psyche.
We laugh at how we used to think we knew so much,cry at how we wasted time we thought we'd always have.

For the last 5 years I have little to no religious views.
And it's been hugely liberating.
At first I thought I'd miss it, but I never have.

I decided to just believe in Love..which sounds nice right??
Although I think that's a very selfless thing to believe in..and let's face it I'm pretty selfish.
More of an "every man for himself" kinda girl.

So what did that leave me with?

If I searched my heart ( which I don't enjoy at all), I would have to say that I do ACTUALLY believe in a God / Devil, I think most likely they are two sides of the same coin.

I belive there is something out there bigger than we are.

I however have decided, that I shall never be religeous again, or work hard to earn God's good grace.
We're just gonna be cool..God and I.

I'm not bitter about the past. I'm living in the moment.
Trying to make my life into something I can recognize as lovely.

And life is Hard, as it should be, beating us into some finer metal.

A friend recently told me in so many words, that wrinkles are earned, our bodies are a map of the things and people we have overcome, and those that overcame us.

You are all part of me now,
those I've loved, lost, hated, fucked.
I've absorbed you into this canvas
You're each a feature on my face, a scar on my body.

And here I am years later,
years marked by a hanfull of hair and a bite
So many basic things haven't changed. 

I still don't know where my life really began, or how much of it I've lived.
I know I am who I wanted to be at 12 but not who I want to be now

And when I look in the mirror my face doesn't match who I am

So come, come and paint on me
another artist, another name.

sea sick

Once I loved you,
And you were like the sea.

So strong, you raged around me..unpredictable, temptation.

Highs and lows unrivalled, I found myself in the wonder .
The pieces that made me, lost in your depth.

As the shore, I faced the tide.
You came and left with the moon.
my limit, my balance

But greedy ocean needed more,
needed to sweep me into the sea,
needed all of me.

Saturated with you I waited for the tide to pull you back..but Moon never came.

Ocean rushed down my throat,
needing to ride my heart,
succeeding only in drowning me.

Now lapping gently against my feet, you invite me to try the water.
Remind me of warmer days playing on the shore.

"I've changed" you say.
"no expectations"
"Let's be friends" you say.

But when I look into you, greedy ocean looks back.

And though I feel the tug of the tide, and your heat on my flesh.
The salt in my mouth reminds me that this is the last place I died.

We are

When did people start thinking so little of themselves that just a few nouns can sum up the totality of their existence.

 I can hardly count the number of time I've heard someone described as 

A vegan
Gay
Muslim/Christian

How have we lost track of what's important.
We are more than what we eat, who we fuck or pray to.

What happened to keeping a little mystery.
Times when the general public didn't know your dietary habits till you shared a meal.

Back when loveing actions and not your dress code spoke of your religion.

When it took more than the tone of voice or mannerisms to determine ones sexuallity.

I want more for us, and I want people to want more for themselves.

The train

I loved you though loving you nearly killed me.

Years of agony, a wasting disease, a waiting game.
Waiting to see if you'd beat your daemons or if they'd beat you.

But while I waited, life did not,
it forced its self on me like an unwanted suitor,
and though I fought, it gradually wore me down.

I took other lovers, lived other lives.
But part of me was still waiting at the station for you.

Trains passed and passed as I sabotaged myself in an effort to hold on to you,
to the pain.

Your friends hung me with weights of guilt
and though they pulled my neck to the floor 
I wore them like jewels.

Bystanders watched as in vain I tried to rise, 
but why should I stand when you couldn't.

Trains passed

Men tried to fix me, some did to an extent.

And time, like sand eating rock, 
brought with it understanding that crawled slow and painful across my face. 

I realized that over the years I'd been gradually shedding weights long the tracks.
Until one morning with a child on each hip, I found I was strong enough to catch the oncoming train.

For the love of an update

For more exciting pictures of happenings since september click here

Jiaozi

I love cooking, I'm a big fan of the bread-alone blog because Alisa puts lovely pictures of the produce, and it's always nice to know if what sounds good looks good too.

For years now I've been moaning about how you can't find jiaozi (Chinese) or gyoza (Japanese).
If Japanese people don't think it's the same I apologize, last time I ate gyoza I was 8 and it tasted the same to me
Silly me never bothered goggling it.. That is until now.

It was our Free day today and Peter Nicole, Oli and I made a large batch..it was very bonding, not to mention fun to watch the boys rolling and pinching.
Unfortunately I didn't take pictures of us covered in flour messing up the kitchen but I do have pictues of what it is so you know what your getting into.









Here is the recipe for all you missing Asia (you can substitute basicaly any veggie inside the filling, I've had them with carrots and black mushrooms and water chestnuts..it al tastes good)







Jiaozi dough:
3 cups all-purpose flour
Up to 1 1/4 cups cold water (use only as much water as you need to make a unsticky dough)
1/4 teaspoon salt
Filling
1 cup ground pork or beef
1 TB soy sauce
1 teaspoon salt
1 TB Chinese rice wine or dry sherry (can even use vinegar)
You can add a bit of cooked and chopped rice noodles...if you want to stretch it
3 TB sesame oil
1/2 green onion, finely minced
1 1/2 cups finely shredded cabbage
4 tablespoons shredded bamboo shoots(not super necessary)
2 slices fresh ginger, finely minced (I always use the grater)
1 clove garlic, peeled and finely minced
Sauce
1 T. Each light soy, dark soy, and rice vinegar
1/4 t. Minced garlic
1/4 t. Minced ginger
4 drops hot chili oil"
I chop a bit of spring onion greens inside, you can put the green part of a leek if you cant find spring onions

Happy fathers day

I originally wrote this because Jules aka (77 zealous inches)bade people send stories for fathers day into activated.
So I took to writing, they said they would use it, and to look to the June addition which I did so with gusto....
Big let down, my story wasn't in it.
And this makes me sad because it was supposed to be a surprise present for my father.
Also I think it's unprofessional that they didn't let me know they decided not to run it after all and I'm feeling pissy.

Yet here it is, the untold story of my great abiding love for DADDY
*************************************************************

It was my birthday again and this year my dad would be there to share it with me. I was so excited I could hardly stop from running as I went to call him for the pool party.

I was quite disappointed when his reaction was clearly less than enthusiastic. Because daddy was a busy man and often on trips that took him out of the country, he'd missed my last birthday. I begged him to come swimming. He was usually so fun-loving & exciting, taking us for long hikes in the woods & building hideouts…why wouldn't he come swimming with me on my birthday?

I wasn't sure why, but I knew he was always reluctant to go swimming when there were others around. Today our house was full of my friends and they're parents, and I desperately wanted daddy to come in the pool and start the games.
After my pleading, despite several vague excuses, he held my hand, smiled and said of course he'd be there, he wouldn't miss it for anything.

Mom hadn't wanted me to ask. She said it was because of his back, but I thought that the big hump on his back and the twisting, finger-wide scar that ran from his neck to his waist was kind of cool. He had been run over by a car when he was 10. His spine had been crushed in three places, and he had spent years in and out of hospitals. He was living with severe scoliosis that caused him much pain (and does to this day).

Nevertheless out he came, me leading him along by the hand in our swim suits. I never noticed people staring. I never noticed him cringe. Daddy was there and nothing could stop me from having the best 9th birthday ever!
Only now that I'm an adult do I fully grasp what it cost him to join me in our pool that day, or come in the public pool with us the day I received my swimming diploma.

Never once have I seen him complain.

Over the years he has done so much for me at great personal sacrifice, some of which I may never fully understand. What could be a more honest display of love?

Whats in a name

This is all I have to say about that


Turns out it may not be ALL I have to say about that, stay tuned..

Better late than never pt2

Big thanks to Mike who magnanimously agreed to pose with us

Better late than never pt1

Sweetest Lance just sent the pictures from Spain that had me in , so there isn't allot of variety, or all the people I'd like to show off, but at least it's a start.

Hugs at home.

I'm rating our boys on they're hugs.

I'm gonna start with Peter because his are pretty darn good.
Peters hugs are warm and affectionate but not past the line where I start worrying about bottom fondling.

Steve's hugs are all I ever thought they would be and more...they are in fact nonexistent, I wouldn't even be able to tell you what Steve's skin feels like, haven't ever touched it.

Christophe's hugs make this noise in my head (Ta da na na), they are exuberant, happy, and often

Chesco's hugs are a bit like Eeyor's smile..good as new,hardly ever used but serviceable.
Efficient like himself.

Oli's hugs are of course very nice and personal, he has a different one for every mood I'm in.

Nic's hugs are like Steve's..I like to give him the benifit of the doubt and think he's just very exclusive

Now Michael hugs like he's checking off a GN chart, there are several fazes to his hugs.
First eye contact, then an understanding nod, a calculated "cuddle" complete with back patting.
Michael gets E for effort.


Marc...A frame and apparently happy with it

Motherhood

Espania

I just came home from a long week in Barcelona's ED seminar.
( I'm the ED monitor, and I guess a teacher)

I had a great time.
Big thanks to the Board members for all, they stayed up nights and dealt with fussy people. I apreciate you!

I will have super pictures "coming soon".

Was great seeing friends and getting all this fabulous material.
There are allot of very tallented teachers in Europe, and allot of beautiful women.
The weather was clear and hot, we swam in the crystal ocean...yep, swimming in March, I am THAT lucky, I mean blessed, lucky is a yucky word.

This was my first trip without my baby...and he was sick at home.
I missed him and was so worried I stayed up at nights and had this pain in my chest.
Tonight I held him in my arms again and it's like medicine, must have cuddled with him for a good hour before letting him finally fall to sleep poor boy.

6 years of blessings

Anyone who's been in a relationship for several years will know that the butterflies get caught after awhile, sex 3 times a day turns into once, and you start seeing a lot more dirty clothes than you had anticipated.
If theres snoring, instead of turning them gently as you might have done in the past, you reach across your sleeping kid and kick them..just a little.

I remember Lovers that have come and gone, and how I expressed myself with them.
The desperate need, profound meaning, lame poems(cause you just can't keep it in). The way you think you could just die from not having them with you, in you..so so close. The ups and downs, the raving phone calls.
Exuberant .. Love that becomes more meaningful / lustful , and takes the place of more important things

Along the way I've forgotten what it's like to want to marry someone just because you love them, and not because you were knocked up, needed paper work, found a good dress, or just wanted to stop being lonely.

Love is more than reaching and tears.
Love isn't gone when you've had and held for awhile.
It's here in everything, it's the steady comfort you need when you've grown up and left home, it's the person who warms up your side of the bed for you, the one who won't judge you or stop loving you because you might cry over your "loved and lost" list.

It's the little things and not the grand gestures that you used to require, but NO less lovely and important, more so even.
Its the trust that takes years to build and makes you feel safe.

Less fireworks, but a thermostat that keeps the whole house at a steady temperature.
Love like this trusts, and knows when to let you enjoy someone else's firecrackers, knowing you'll return tomorrow.

I like many others fail to verbalize on the long term, which on the short term I would have expounded on in whirly writting.
How much more the ones who stay deserve.

Lets all make more of an effort

Glorious now behold him arise. King and God and sacrifice

Happy Birthday Jesus.
A Merry Christmas to all of you!
thank you for the lovely cards and letters. xxooo

in other news, Olivier turned 26 a few days ago.
Since we're so busy during this season poor guy never gets a very big party, but is surly very deserving...among many fine accomplishments under his belt, he has now survived me for almost 6 years now.
wow, yes I know. I've definitely given him a run for his money, he is one solid guy.
I love you honey.

Colour for Christmas

Thank you all for your prayer's.
My dad's surgery went well and he's recovering slowly.
He would like specific prayer against pain as the morphine just manages to take the edge off.
Please also continue to pray that his body accepts the bone graphs and rod in his spine.
Thanks allot.xxoo

Pray for my dad

Dear Family,

Please pray with us for Tim’s (formerly Tito, of Activated Europe) upcoming operations to correct and stabilise his scoliosis problem. He will be undergoing three consecutive operations of which the first two will be on Tuesday the 9th of December, which is today. The main operation on his spine will happen within the next week.

Please pray that these operations will be successful and that he will be stable during the four to six hour operations which are quite a long time to be under anaesthesia. We have been blessed with one of the three best surgeons within this field, who is not only very skilled, but also a very kind and caring man.

Pray for Tim’s speedy recovery from each of these operations. That the Lord will protect him from infections and pain and that his body will accept the bone grafts and the metal roods that they will use to stabilise the spine, and against pain and discomfort during his four to six week’s hospital stay. He might have to stay in a cast or brace for probably the next six months so please pray that everything will be as comfortable as possible.

Also please pray with us that we can be a good witness to not only the doctors and staff, but also to the many patients who have to spend this Christmas in hospital.

Also Tim’s old father has just had a stroke and has to stay at a care home, so please pray that he will be comforted and trusting as Tim will not be able to come and visit him during this time. Tim has been witnessing to his father for many years, but he has not yet accepted Christ and is professing to be an atheist so please pray that he will turn to Jesus during this difficult time. Thank you so much for praying with us during this challenging time. We know the Lord will do many wonderful miracles as we stand on His promises and keep praising Him for His unending love and care.

Some put their trust in doctors and medicines, but when you put your trust in Me, and through the power of the keys ask what you desire, you will see miracles performed, bodies strengthened, the weak and afflicted encouraged, diseases healed, and the power of Heaven at your command

Desperate prayer in the power of the keys can overcome all odds, reverse damage, and bring complete victory in even the most seemingly impossible situations.

As you claim the keys of stamina, health, and miracles, your body will stand strong and your resistance will be fortified by supernatural and inexplicable means.

The Jacquimo Syndrome

Recently a friend said, "Follow your heart, everything else is secondary". Simple words, meant to heal and represent wisdom.
(I'm sure he meant them very nicely and I want to clarify that this isn't about him, but rather about the thoughts they ignighted)
However, that was not the welcome they received, all the little red flags went up,in fact I found my self brooding and brooding on them all day long.

This is my conclusion as to why they upset me.

1) It's just not a realist's state of mind. Your heart doesn't have the pay grade to make such decisions, that's what your brain is for.

2) We don't live in a fairy tale world, people have responsibilities, such as children or marriage, where there are times when you have to hide your passion under a bushel and take one for the team.

3) Sure you might even enjoy it, and it would feel great if you had absolutely no guilt complex about all the people you'd hurt on the road to"follow your heart".
But it's selfish, so damn selfish, and it really pisses me off to see people live this way because it makes the "real world" just that more nasty for realistic people.

In ending, it's not moralistic, it's not Christian, in fact to find God's will it might be something you have to sacrifice quite regularly.
And I suppose it's insulting to all the things I've given up out of love for others.

The lost art of exhibitionism

It's Your fault, not only have I always wanted to start a train of thought like this, but it's in fact true.
I desperately need to talk about personal things in my life...and this place has turned into one of those white washed tombs with dead men's bones inside.
I used to love running around naked here, it was my "naked Friday's" everyday.

Now I'm about a month away from being one year older and I haven't gotten used to being an adult yet, no doubt when I've grown into this role I will finally be able to keep things inside and die slowly, quietly, and with dignity.. The way people are meant to.
I need a close friend, scratch that, a friend, any friend will do, someone who I can be naked with, and remind me to be positively positive.


You know what, it's not your fault, it's mine.
I'm the one that let you all ruin my paradise.
I'm the one that can't keep track of my friends.
I let you all scare me away from honesty.

so I've just been complaining about something I really only have my self to blame for, wow do I see a pattern emerging?
And who said blogging couldn't be therapeutic.

In conclusion
Wee Words of Wisdom.
Feeling down?...you've been thinking too much about yourself!

A Dutch Lullaby

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe---
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea---
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish---
Never afeard are we";
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam---
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'T was all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 't was a dream they 'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea---
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

By Eugene Field (1850-1895)

*I took the liberty to change the Herring fish, which are basically glorified Sardines and not very magical at all.
To Flying fish..which I much prefer

The Selfish Giant

I dedicate this to my friend M.A
our friendship is less than exemplary especially now that we're both too busy for frivolous mental imagery.
one thing I don't miss is fighting over boys/men, that mostly weren't our to fight over to begin with.
we can bond over this quite "Snow & Frost" moment.
xxxxooo

Snipit's

I wanted to write up about this a couple of months ago, but I was busy at the time and then it sort of slipped my mind.
I'm posting it now, because I don't have any "testimonies" up here and it's high time there were.
It all began around my son's birthday.
I had some allotted money for a present and I narrowed it down to 2 objects, that I felt were going to last and be worth it.
One was a car that you sit on and scoot around with, the other was a walky/wagon thingy that kids use when learning how to walk.
I only had the money for one, so after much careful worrying I bought the car, reasoning that he'd be able to play with it for longer.
But I was still having a secret trail about the walky wagon thingy because Cyrus wasn't walking as soon as some of his baby buddies round about.

His big day came and I presented him with the car, he didn't want to ride on it, he wanted to push it around like his little cars..I was so sad and disappointed.
The very next day I went out witnessing, and that evening as I got picked up I found out that another team had done a toy shop pickup..low and behold crammed into the back of the van (along with other great surpises), was a brand new walky thingy, the very one I had wanted to buy.
PTL the lord not only gives us our needs but our desires too.
Since then my son has learned to walk, and allot of the credit goes to God's little gift

Your name in Lights

Questions and answers, Things you always wanted to know but were afraid to ask.

Recently I had a comment about how "we Paris girls seem to have nothing better to do then dress up and take pictures of each other."

Clearly this upset me and I'm going to have to share that with you.

1. "Paris girls" is not how I will be referred to.
My name is Sophie. I live in France as per the lords calling and it ain't always easy I'm telling you.
I'm not in any way French. We are all quite different people and we/me don't like being put in a "Paris" basket.

2. I'm not entirely sure what exactly bothered you about the dress up picture. Was it seriously because you thought this was ALL I did?
Perhaps you think I spent money on the costume.
Let me clear that up for you.
With a little creativeness, cardboard glasses and some humility, you can make a good costume from just about anything.
We are quite blessed with numerous scraps of provisioned material and crafty hands.
Big TX to Heidi who lent me her special birthday shoes.

And now for what you've been waiting to hear. Yes I do in fact own a checkerdy red dress..OMG

3. I do not have allot of personal money. Like everyone else in my profession there has been times when I've abounded, and times where I've abased..allot more of the latter, and in fact now is one of those times.
But praise the Lord, we have a rich God and I'm not lacking one necessary thing.

4. I've been to some blog roundabout and I've seen homes that dress up every week..they look like they have a good time so who's judging.
I've been to other people's blogs that talk about they're fluctuating body fat ratio and they're work out routines or favorite alcoholic beverage.
I guess to each his own.
Me, I like to post useful little tidbits (useful to me that is), and pictures sometimes so friends can see how my little family and I progress.
If once or twice I year there are dress up pictures your just going to have to handle it.

5. Maybe you'd like a little run down on what I do on a daily basis besides my carrier in dress up..
*Childcare, cooking and cleaning,HS duties, out reach, fundraising and follow up,provisioning and CTP's plus 6 hours out of house local language study a week.
I attend long and tedious home meeting where we actually do accomplish things.
Wow I'm starting to sound pretty average, I guess that's because I am.

I'm not sure what exactly is going on with your bitter, critical/ hateful gossip.
But let me tell you, it certainly isn't a fresh new godly mind set, and at the very least will end with you aging badly.

Candy Floss

a "back to the future" Birthday party Theme.

Keep the Candle burning

I feel like I hit every slight raise on a pretty flat road.
I didn't get much done, but whatever I did was all arm of the fleshy.
I'm all worn out and doubtful, and I hate it.
I need a hug pretty badly, I want someone to tell me everything's going to be ok and work out.
I need the lord to help me not fear change, not fear fear.
Just to rest, rest in Him.

I feel lame about it, but I just want happy endings, I'm so sick of swallowing lumps in my throat.
Happy endings Lord, happy endings.

the land of summer

I was just so thankful to have a picture where I thought I looked nice,I wanted to "show it off".
But then I felt very vain, so I had to write this little disclaimer..and well, I don't feel much better about it.
generaly look pretty sloppy and tired

Another case history

I like to see that people can change, it fills me with happiness.
One of my biggest fears is that I'm changing and people still think I'm the same old person with the same old problems, people who don't give me hope when they don't give others hope.

I have been guilty of just this

Theres a person who's' blog I used to frequent, and whom I judged badly..I thought they were the shallowest blimp ever. (and I'm sorry)
Turns out either from going through allot and coming out finer gold, or else me misjudging and taking them for granted..This person turned out to be quite role model worthy
I realize now what a fine person this person is.

I want to be hopeful, I want to be naive and think others have the best intentions. I shouldn't have to plaster myself on a blog to dreg out a little "faith for others" from my fellow disciples. No one should.

I can change too, I am changing, and I need you to have faith in me even when you don't see it.
TYL for your perfect love

Old treasures in the Attic

You love me
You don't love me.
You don't know..
Do you know me anymore?
Would you care for me if you did?

I don't feel secure in your flimsy indian giving love..who would?
What a waste of your time...and what a waste of my emotions.
Stop stretching me one way then another.
Don't you think I know that it's been ages, and how we care for each other is less than perfect.

The difference is, I love your changes, I love that you've been through allot and grown stronger. I love that you send me prophecies and say "enough's enough".

I loved you before and I love what I see now, it doesn't mean I want to marry you, or be with you, or fly around the world to sit next to you, or watch you sleep

Just love
Just because
Just still

And just leave it or get on board.
Just because
And that's all I have to say about that.

Camping

our home whent camping for 2 weeks on the coast.
people told me that camping with a one year old would be dirty..and boy were they right.
sand everywhere.. all the time
clothes dirty about 2 minutes after I put them on him
sand in his mouth repeatedly.

but we rose above these things.. I ignored the dirt as much as possible.
and he chased the waves out, and ran from them on the way in.
it was adorable.
he also started walking there..yay.

for pictures of cyrus oli and I...click here

God said IT and IT was so

A year ago Yesterday I gave birth to undoubtedly the best thing I've ever been part of.
That day as a bent over the bed with arms and legs shaking uncontrollably I wondered then if it would ever be worth it.
When he arrived he was so small and everyone came to see us, I was so proud of him.
I thought it was certainly worth it....till a couple of shots wore off and I found pain had new meaning.
All the years I prided myself in being tiny paid me back with several episiotomy's
If I wanted to go to the baby's crib I'd have to get out of bed, I would mentally prepare myself and hold my breath.
No amount of preparation was enough..standing took my breath away every time, coughing was an exercise in "trying to turn pain to praise"..which I never managed.
The nurse would come in and ask how my nipples were doing.."oh yeah look at that they're bleeding again..but I really don't care that much, please, please can you give me something for the other thing".
As that improved over the week I went home and got a little worse.
I had promised I wouldn't, but I got the baby blues just the same, I couldn't eat and I cried all day without knowing why.

But the bad bit now seems so small by comparison to the beautiful year we spent together.
A bad week or two and scars on things most people don't see is a really cheap price for a beautiful healthy son that can't walk yet but kisses me allot.

I started enjoying some odd things I never thought I'd feel.
For instance when he sleeps sometimes he drools, theres this little white line down his fat little cheek..
I love it, it makes me want to kiss him all over..who knew.

The fact that he said Papa first, or that he still stubbornly calls me Baba (which is actually also what he calls my boobs), is only a small prick in the grand scheme of things.
When he's naughty I get to call him his full name with a stern tone..how fun is that!
I'm a mother, and he and I have a perfect love.

So happy Birthday to Cyrus, I won't survive losing you, so please have many more birthdays.

I dance several times a week with a dance school down town
it's allot of fun and great exercise.
I do ragga, modern jazz, and hip hop.

last weekend we did the end of the year performance in the theatre

Of butterflies and the like

Thank you, thank you, I love what you mean to me and how you affect me, as well as what I mean to you. We fill each others spaces up, slip in the cracks and make things complete.
Without you filling up the cracks and running into my empty spaces, I would fall apart like so many peices of dry plaster.
You turn me into a mosaic

You give me butterflies, the awesome ones that live inside me, not the creepy flying ones with the powder that freak me out.
What you said popped my surface tension, and there was this delicious splash, and then the butterflies.
These are the best butterfly's, because usually and although butterfly's are awesome, they're often bad for you like junk food, cotton candy..or worse, blood butterfly's, because rightfully they belong to someone else.
But these are perfect..cause they're white and shinny and righteous, not kites with strings attached, they're all frolic and flutter, and I don't have to feel naughty for enjoying them.

I'm skipping around catching them in my huge yellow net.
I'm a little girl.
They make me realize that I don't need hay fever and blisters to know summers here..cause I caught your butterfly's, and they're all I need.

All things change but Jesus never

I just don't know anymore, all those stedfast opinions and hard core beliefs.
Gone with the wind.
I am static, flat lining...beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

Who am I? who's home? Am I alone, is it crowded? Who knows?

I think I might have run too far and now I'm standing still cause I'm scared to go further.
I'm like that pool of spilt water that races for the edge of the table and then just stands at the brink..building up, like an invisible wall has been erected.

I'm not looking for a muse, I'm not raising dead ones...I'm just wandering around my house tapping on the glass.
My heart is as pale as my face, and I keep trying to figure out how all the blood got out and where is went to.

Who do I see and who sees me?
No one now, and nothing even feels missing.
Does that mean Jesus is enough? I sure hope so

I need the summer
Jesus please send the summer
Send me hay fever and sun burns

My son is nine months old, has two teeth and crawls.
He growls allot, grabs allot, smiles allot.
Loves cars, noses, baths, and finger tip touching.
Makes allot of noise, but never has bad breath.

My mustard seed

Faith is something that has been paining me for a couple of years now.
I previously thought that because (Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God), and beacuse I read the word of God and hopefully imbibe as much of it as possible, that I could then pull it out of a hat on a moments notice and watch it work wonders.

Well my fantastic, mighty, sham of Faith was put to the test when I was called on to have faith for someone's unborn baby that was in a terrible and impossible situation.
The Lord had asked the parents to have faith, and they had asked us.
I knew the situation, how serious it was, all the huge things it would take for a miracle.
I tried, I prayed desperately, daily, and I hoped for a miracle...but in my heart I wasn't able to convince my self that God could do the miracle needed, and I wasn't able to have full faith.

Time passed slowly and painfully, and then I buried my faith as they buried they're child.
I wondered why, if God had asked us for faith, why would he let us down?

Well last night I had a dream, one that helped my attach all the things I already knew but somehow hadn't connected before.
I must have been blind, deaf and stupid, to have had it sitting in front of me and not realized it.

The dream:
I was witnessing to an odd effeminate cycler " go figure". He explained to me that a while back he started feeling blizzardy odd and had gone for a full body scan where they discovered he'd grown an ovary ."I know???"
(strangely I wasn't laughing and it seemed very serious to me, almost like this wasn't just an ovary but also some form of inoperable cancer)
The man asked me how he could have Faith that the Lord would heal him even in this impossible situation.
Wise dream Sophie told him that Faith that moved mountains was a spiritual Gift God gives to some people, and maybe God wanted to give him just such a gift.
But if God had other gifts for him, he could still have faith.. Real unshakable faith.
All he had to do was stand on the promise that " all things work together for good to them that love God".
If we have That faith, we can know that God wants the best for us, takes care of us in His perfect love, and isn't out to get us.
He has our life's course in his hands, and he never dropped any of His own.

I woke up and realized what a fool I have been.. I also realized that now.
I have FAITH

Bob the builder, can we fix it? Bob the builder, Yes we can!

This is a message for like minded people, or people hoping to improve they're mind and likewise vocabulary.
Boycott the word "Doable".. This is not a viable word.
"Feasible" is in fact the word you are looking for.
Use it from now on.
Help to change this nasty Family habit!
Every time you encounter "Doable" use extreme praise and rise above it techniques, while exchanging the word for "feasible".
I guarantee you will start to feel better almost immediately.

My valentine

While taking Kenji's "Zombie apocalypse" percentage test..Olivier came to the question that asks.
"if a loved one became a zombie what would you do"

1)shoot them in the head without hesitation
2)shoot them..but only before longingly looking into their eyes and feeling doubt, they are a loved one after all
3)run away and hope they're a slow zombie
Etc.

(me) pick option 2..it's truthful and still somewhat moral.
(Oli) no, I don't think I could kill a loved one
(me) if it were me that was infected..I'd want you to shoot me
(Oli) no, I love you too much to kill you, I'd put you in a cage and feed you bats till they find a cure.

Penny's Birthday 70's theme

Here are some of the great boys I grabed for a picture

1. Oli in a wig + Cyrus and I
2. Marc wearing my pants < ick > and I
3. Nick determined to be a 70's punk not hippy and I
4. Michael and me..< godbless him he's such a toilet >
5. Chesco with hair and I

A whiter shade of pale

I....................you
There isn't words to make up the feeling
it's all tied up in farmers, nationalism, comfortable laps, and banjos
a smell, a taste, an idea ...illusive

I'm glad I could hear you, wether I heard your face as I remembered it or not.
Everything I know of you is like a collectors item.
I spend nights patching you together and just staring
Your pretty
You stare back

He's so big now, he's falling out of my arms and I bend over to kiss him giving my tummy a few involuntary wrinkles..I kiss him more then he would like, and he stirs in his sleep greedily reaching for my breasts, frowning when he finds sweater.
His hair smells like...baby.. baby soap, baby sweat, and that smell that is solely theirs. I love the way he smells.
I want to hold him while he sleeps, crushed against me for as long as possible, but I know it's time to put him in his bed.
His cold little bed so far from mine, funny how two feet seems such a swim.
I lay in mine waiting for him to move, snore, anything really to let me know he's right there, make him more real to me then the dark says
Waking up to nurse I pull him close, nearly smothering, I want to feel as much of his skin against me as I can.
When he laughs I feel such happiness, I am overwhelmed with joy.
I wake up with his little hands slapping my face, discovering how far my nasal passage goes, and pulling my lip out only to let go so he can hear the slap of it against my teeth.
It hurts, but I wake up smiling
These are things I never could have understood without having a baby of my own

2007