Meet Me in the Morning

I love the morning.

I love rising when the house is still and silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the entryway. I walk to the kitchen and make a pot of coffee in the half-dark, then sit and pray or meditate in quiet before the world breaks free.

I love looking out my living room window and watching dawn's warm and golden glow spread and dance across the dark nooks in our shady yard. The way the shimmering and dappled yellow light spreads and separates the darkness ever so gently and magnificently reminds me of hope. The hope of the new day, of new life, new opportunities.

Another chance to be the person I want to be. To become the person God wants me to be. To love my family and friends. To love the earth and all its inhabitants –– even the ones who test my capacity to love. To laugh and write and live and love. To embrace the beautiful and wonderful life I have been given.

These moments seem rare and fleeting these days. Moments when I can stop and breathe and be and simply appreciate this beauty. Any moment a bedroom door will be flung open and I will hear someone calling for "mommy," and so the mad dash through my day will begin.

What a wonderful gift to begin it this way.

Hear Me Lord

Last week I took Brendan to his pediatrician for a routine check-up. Our school district requires that every kid have hearing and vision tests before they start pre-K, so we were trying to get that taken care of since school begins in a few weeks.

Brendan did great on the vision test, but failed the hearing test in his left ear. The nurse administered the test three times and consistently got the same results. In his right ear, he heard all five beeps and responded appropriately. In his left ear, he responded only to the first beep. Based on these results and the fact that he said it hurt his left ear when she performed the test, his pediatrician decided to refer us to an audiologist at the Children's Hospital for more tests.

Coincidentally, we had noticed that Brendan has been turning his DVD player up to full volume when watching a video and he complains that music hurts his ears.

Now, I know that minor hearing loss in one ear while maintaining perfect hearing in the other ear is really not that big of a deal. But, as a parent, if your child doesn't have to go through something like that, ;you'd really rather they didn't have to.

So, all week between appointments, I prayed. And I believed. Believed and told myself out loud several times a day that it was a fluke. His hearing is perfect.

And it is. Thankfully. We spent about an hour in the audiologist's office yesterday while she performed tests to look at the structure of both his inner and outer ear and tested his range of hearing. He did great and his hearing and ears are perfect.

I couldn't be happier. But, I am curious as to whether or not the outcome would have been different if I had let myself believe the worst instead of the best.

Your Love is Like the Morning Sun

On our way home from the grocery this evening, Brendan shouts, "Look, Mommy! The sun is cracking the sky."

Sure enough, the heavy grey clouds had broken apart and the pale yellow sun was brightly and blindingly shining through. We talked about the sun for a minute and then Brendan asked if the sun was breaking up the clouds because it wasn't ready for bed yet. He then asked me if the sun had a mommy who made him go to bed.

I laughed and explained that the sun doesn't really go to bed and then explained how the Earth rotates and revolves around the sun, etc. So then, Brendan asked me if the Earth was the sun's mommy. He was laughing and knew he was joking, but I just thought it was kind of sweet somehow.

Flight of the Conchords Ep 3 Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros

If y'all have never watched the new HBO show Flight of the Conchords you really need to give it a go. It's seriously one of the funniest things I've seen in a long, long time.

I understand comparisons will be made to Tenacious D, but I find these cute kiwis much funnier, easier on the eye, and less offensive than the D.

Here's a song from episode 3, Mugger, of the series.

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

I haven't written in over a week. One would think there might be a backlog of topics to cover and thus, I'd have no problem jumping back in. Sadly, for me anyway, that doesn't seem to be the case.

True, I've written hundreds of mental blog entries the last week or so. Most while I was in the shower. A few of them were even brilliant. Unfortunately, now that it's Saturday night and I'm home alone with two sleeping boys and have a chance to write, all those great ideas are swirling around in a massive jumble, each fighting to come to the forefront and make its way onto the blog. Now that I'm having difficulty separating the wheat from the chaff, I think I'll just tell you some of the things I might have written about or wanted to write about. Maybe, if I have a chance, I'll come back to one or more of these topics.

1. I've begun working with a wellness coach. She rocks. I love working out. I've never been an athlete, but I love making my body work. I feel great when I make my body perform and realize how strong and healthy I can be. What I really love about this woman is that she focuses as much on my attitude and mental state as she does my body. Cool. What's even cooler is that we're trading services. I'm going to help her with some marketing.

2. I've been thinking a lot about blogging in general. Why we blog. Who reads our blogs. Anonymous blogging versus putting yourself out there completely. For those of us who are in relationships and blog openly (there must be another term for this), how our partners and friends feel about our blogging. I have a few thoughts on this. I have been thinking about not blogging and wishing I had done this anonymously at times this week. Honestly, that probably has a lot to do with the ambivalence I've felt about my blog lately. I will defintely expand on this topic when I have time.

3. Our kitty was diagnosed this week with hyperthyroidism. He lost half his body weight since December, dropping from 11 lbs. to a mere five and a half pounds. Poor kitty boy. Mao (named for the fact that mao is a Chinese word for cat) is a sweet, sweet cat. The best cat I've ever had and I've had a few, including a pair named Bill and Hillary. Anyway, he's a real darling and I'm glad we found out what's wrong and that it's something fairly easy to treat. I was a little sad that we learned he's actually a good bit older than we thought. Probably 14 instead of 11.

4. Both boys have coughs and colds so this week has been more challenging than usual. Even though he's sick, Beckett is still an angel. He's fussier than usual, but still so sweet and barely any trouble at all. He hardly even complains even though he's clearly miserable. I'm a very lucky mama.

5. I know I've written about my MOMS Club before, but I'm really realizing that this group of women really has risen to the level of a true community of friends and family. In the two years that I have been a member, there have been at least five babies born. One friend lost her baby. Another friend, in the process of moving out of state, learned that her mother has breast cancer. One woman has had major surgery. Two have had cause to think their husbands were cheating on them. One lost her mother. One of my sons was hospitalized and I began suffering from a major bout of depression.

In the two years that I have been a member, we have lived Life, in all its rich, beautiful, and painful glory. And we have all been there for one another. Making dinners. Keeping each other's kids. Cleaning kitchens and doing laundry for each other. Suggesting babysitters and nannies. Holding hands, offering hugs, laughing, crying, sharing, and just being there.

For someone like me, with very little family, and none close at hand, it really means the world to know I am part of this group of women. Again, lucky mama. Lucky woman.

Well, alright then, y'all. I will expand and expound upon some or none of these topics later as I see fit. Of course, I am assuming that someone out there still gives a damn.

Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Politics

So, after not having written in a week or so – and on the eve of the anniversary of our nation's independence – I'm going to get (slightly) political on your ass.

Might I just ask, where is the outrage? I mean, the serious, impeach-this-guy's-ass outrage? I understand that the President has the power to commute sentences, to pardon his cronies, etc. But really? Commute the sentence of a guy who put the life of an agent defending this country at risk? Jeopardize any operation she's ever worked on and potentially the lives of other agents all because her husband pissed you off? Pissed you off because he told the truth? Seriously?

Scooter Libby deserves to be in jail. Never mind that Karl Rove and Dick Cheney should be there, too. Shouldn't there be a greater expression of outrage and defiance on the part of all the law abiding Americans who believe in truth, justice, and the American way? I mean, if you or I committed a crime, we'd have to serve our time.

I mean, it is seriously hard for me to believe that there was more discourse surrounding Clinton's blowjob than there is when that horrid little man we call the President uses his position of power to reward one of his cronies for ruining a decent person's life.

Angel Food

Jen has tagged me with a meme about food. Now, if you know me already, you probably know that I am not one of those fortunate few people in the world who eat to live. Although, it would be hard to describe me as someone who lives to eat either.

Food and I have a complicated relationship. I wish I could be one of those picky palates that hates most food, picks at my food barely eating any of it, but then can get away with eating fries and indulging in milkshakes. Sadly, that's not me. I love all kinds of fruits and vegetables and complicated dishes with fancy sauces and seafood and steaks and gooey desserts.

I enjoy good food and eschew food that doesn't live up to my standards when possible. Now that I have kids I find myself eating fast food way more often than I'd like, but sometimes you just have let the kids run wild in the Mickey D's Playland.

So, about this meme.... Here are the rules:

1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Include the state and country you live in.
3. List top five favorite local restaurants.
4. Tag five other people and let them know they’ve been tagged.

Okay. I'm in Atlanta, Georgia and I just have to say... Five? I only get to choose five? Not enough! But okay, I'll try. So, my top five local restaurants, in no particular order, are:

1. Prime – Yes, it's in a mall, but it's not anything like what you think a restaurant in a mall will be. It's excellent. Wonderful steaks and seafood. An attentive, if sometimes pretentious, waitstaff. The plank-grilled salmon served with spinach over cheese grits is to die for. If I had to choose a last meal, that might be it. They also have an extensive and impressive wine list.

2. Café Intermezzo – I never get to go here, but I adore this place. I've been going there since I was in college. My girlfriends and I used to go there for coffee and dessert to break the monotony of the dining hall. I think most people think of this as strictly a dessert bar, but their dinner menu is eclectic and very good. Lots of rich, delicious pastas and unusual sandwiches. They serve hand mixed Italian sodas, have a decent selection of wines, and a very impressive selection of expensive single malt Scotches. If you're into that sort of thing. Also, the most impressive and delectable selection of desserts in the city. And, oh yeah.... great coffee. I almost forgot. This place reeks of atmosphere. They play opera in the background and often show Italian movies on the wall in the main room by the bar. The patio is suspended in the air above a parking lot, but surrounded by trees. This would make a great place for a first date.

3. Frijoleros – Like so many of my favorite Atlanta hang-outs this place no longer exists. But I thought it deserved a spot on my list anyway. A tiny hole-in-the-wall burrito joint with an excellent green sauce, Frijoleros was on Peachtree next door to the now-also-non-existent Cotton Club. Really, truly, the best burritos in town. Hands down. All you fools who preferred Tortillas on Ponce were nuts. Nuts, I say. And I am constantly reminded of the time my sweet roommate told me about this great place her boyfriend took her called Free-joe-lah-ruhs. It took me an hour to figure out what she actually meant. It still makes me laugh out loud.

4. Dusty's – World class barbecue. I know there's no agreeing on styles among barbecue fanatics. I like mine shredded, smoky, with a good sweet, but slightly spicy sauce. On a bun. With a pickle. I also dig SC style mustard sauce, but there's none of that at Dusty's. Straight up pig with the standard sides. They also, oddly enough, make the BEST veggie burger in town. No joke. If you go there, look for the mural that Scott and his friend Mark have deemed Pig Heaven. Actually, if you follow the link, you can see it on their site.

5. Heaping Bowl and Brew – Just a soft spot in my heart for this place. It's the only place I've ever waited tables. My friend Todd Semrau started this place when he lived in East Atlanta. He believed in the potential of the neighborhood when everyone else thought he was a lunatic. When he opened the restaurant he couldn't afford to pay a waitstaff so his friends and family all pitched in to help. My friend Courtney and I waited tables together that night and I think combined we made $25 in tips which we split. Hands down the Bowl has the best sweet potato fries ever. Actually, this was the first place I ever heard of sweet potato fries.

Okay. Those are my five. I will tag Suzanne, Lindsay, Jeremy, A., and Rennratt.

Guitar Town

Scott's shows at Swallow at the Hollow went well. He was great. Mike, who sat in with him on the second set, was great. The room was great. The crowd...eh. It was a restaurant crowd with two parties of 30 people. A little noisy for an acoustic singer-songwriter.

Still, I think we got a few new fans on board with us and we learned a thing or two. At least I did.

I'm looking forward to booking a few more shows and trying to streamline our game a little. Overall, though, I'm pleased with how the performances have gone and where Scott is in the process. After just a few shows, he fell back into performing like a duck into water and seems as comfortable as one can be onstage.

Hopefully, Scott will put up the recording of the show on his site in a few days. If so, I'll link it if anyone wants to hear.

Heart of Mine

Sometimes Brendan just blows me away with his goodness and his creativity.

Even before the books said he was developmentally ready to show empathy, he expressed a gentle and caring spirit, ministering to the needs of our pets, asking me what was wrong if I seemed down, rubbing his dad's feet when his dad said he had a rough day, hugging friends who were upset. He has such a special ability to think about others and I love him all the more for it.

Today, he did the sweetest thing. Something so cute it hurt.

He built a slide – out of rocks – for the ants. How cute is that? Then, he went and got a leaf and put it at the bottom of his slide so the ants would have a soft place to land. He said he thought the ants needed something to play on so he made them a playground.

I love that imagination!

My kid rocks.

Apron Strings

If you saw and loved the movie She's Having a Baby way back in the early '90s or late '80s when it was released, then you probably love the soundtrack as well.

After searching in vain for the out of print collection for a couple of years, I finally got a copy last night. Jeremy and his wife Teresa came to Scott's show with their little cutie Nathan last night and J. brought me a copy of the soundtrack plus a few covers/remixes of songs on the album. Very cool.

As always, one song stood out among the others and tugged at my heartstrings, bringing tears to my eyes. It's always the same one, although I realize that over the years the reasons the song touches me so deeply have changed.

Here are the lyrics:


Apron strings
Hanging empty
Crazy things
My body tells me
I want someone to tie to my lonely
Apron strings

Apron strings
Waiting for you
Pretty things
That i could call you
I want someone to tie to my lonely
Apron strings

He'd look just like me when I was young
And I wonder as the days unwind
Will he have your eyes or mine
Then i wake up to my
Apron strings
Cold and lonely
For time brings
Thoughts that only
Will be quiet when someone clings to my
Apron strings

And i'll be perfect in my own way
When you cry i'll be there
I'll sing to you and comb your hair
All your troubles i will share

For apron strings
Can be used for other things
Than what they're meant for
And you'd be happy wrapped in my
Apron strings

I don't want to talk about the reasons that song moved me when I was younger; they've passed away, changed, been forgotten about. Now, last night, as I played the song over and over again about four times on the drive home, always crying at the lines "and I'll be perfect in my own way/When you cry I'll be there/I'll sing to you and comb your hair/All your troubles I will share," all I can think about his how happy I am now to have someone, two someones, clinging to my apron strings, but how much happier I am to see my friends – many of them – who have struggled to get pregnant, stay pregnant, adopt, and become the parents they knew they were meant to be, finally hold their own children and have them cling not only to their apron strings, but to heartstrings as well.

C'Mon, C'Mon

For anyone interested, Suz has information on her site with regard to the devastating fire in Charleston last night that killed nine firefighters. A fund has been established to help their families and Suz has the information on where to send donations here.

Tragedies like this always seem so difficult to imagine. You're just going to work, doing your job, and you're killed in the most horrific and terrifying way possible.

Pressed in a Book

Someone recommended a book to me yesterday. It's called The Dance. The best I can tell it's written a woman who, shall we say, is a bit..open-minded?

It's written by this woman named Oriah. For a while, she had adopted the surname Mountain Dreamer which she had been given during a shamanic retreat. She used it until she grew tired of explaining that she was not Native American nor was it a stage name. Anyway, she sounds like a bit of a kook, but being somewhat open-minded, i.e., kooky, myself, I thought I'd read a bit of it and see what I thought. In the meantime, I found this bit of wisdom on her web site and I actually agree with it. I thought I'd share it. It's not any great insight if you've given any thought to the issue, but I do believe most of us tend to avoid those of us who are different. Hell, I even state my avoidance of "the different" as I discuss the very topic here. I was afraid to read this book because I thought it was too new-agey for me; I'd be embarrassed to admit that I'd read a book by one-named woman who considers herself an outside influence.

Of course, when I admit to you what convinced me to read the book, you'll think I'm a nut. The excerpt from one of her books that is on her web site talks about her four-year old son Brendan who was a bit of an unusual child, apparently. He got in trouble in kindergarten for not coloring his pictures the colors his teacher thought they should be or something like that. This spoke to me, obviously, because I have a four-year old son named Brendan who is a bit of a character himself. However, it also got me because my mother got called to the school and I got called out in class in front of all the other kids because I colored my barn purple when we were coloring a barnyard scene in class. I was the only kid who used a color other than red for the barn and my teacher yelled at me for it. Told me it was wrong. So, I really related to the story about her son.

Anyway, here's the other bit that spoke to me....

One of the easiest and most enjoyable ways to become aware of your conditioned way of seeing, to open to new perceptions, is to spend time with people who see things differently than you do. Most of us spend time with people who share our worldview, people who think and see in similar ways. It gives us comfort to have the authority of our experience reinforced by another's experience. Being with those who have had different experiences and so see differently not only opens us to new perceptions but helps us become aware of our habitual blinders.

I think almost every one of us can benefit from that little bit of knowledge.

When You Awake

I am so excited about Scott's shows on Wednesday and Thursday. I am eagerly looking forward to hearing him play and hearing Mike play with him.

Mike is an unusually gifted human being himself. A Rhodes scholar with degrees in English from Duke and Oxford as well as degrees in Hebrew and Jewish Studies from Oxford. He's also married to the beautiful and sweet Rebecca, herself a Rhodes scholar. In addition to being too smart, Mike plays a mean guitar and draws/writes the brilliant Satisfactory Comics with his partner Isaac.

Of course, on top of all that, he's a sweet, kind, decent, fun human being. As is Becca. Again, I'm feeling very blessed to have such wonderful friends.

Clearly there is a reason this theme is revealing itself to me....God to Dawn...Listen you crazy bee-atch! You are one lucky girl to have such amazing people in your life. Be thankful. Be happy. Celebrate and enjoy the amazing life you have been fortunate enough to have created for yourself and to have been welcomed into through your union with Scott.

So, I will. Thanks, G. For all the good stuff. And all the bad stuff that makes me appreciate even more all that I do have.

Revelling

It felt as if last week flew by, but looking back on it – and realizing I haven't posted in over a week – I realize just how long it was.

Brendan attended Vacation Bible School at our church from Monday through Friday. On Monday, he was really upset and didn't want to go, but the next morning was out of bed and at my side before I awoke, telling me he wanted to go to church school.

I thought I'd get a lot done, having 3 hours every morning to do things, but the time burned by in a flash. The wedding I was helping plan and direct was on Saturday, so I had several things to take care of with regard to that. Our friends Mike and Becca came to town from DC where Mike teaches at American University. They came on Wednesday night, stayed Thursday, then Friday drove to Athens to see Mike's brother.

On Friday, Scott's mom came to town to help with the kids while I was working. Also, because we know the groom's familly, Scott was invited to the wedding Saturday night, so of course, we needed help with the kids then.

Scott's mom left yesterday and Mike returned to the spend a few more days with us, while Becca took a train home to be at work this morning.

Mike is going to play with Scott at his shows at Swallow. I can't wait.

Of course, I'm so exhausted from the wedding that I can barely walk. My legs hurt so bad today. Worse than yesterday. Also, despite having worn comfortable yet stylish shoes, my feet have blisters in four places. I have shin splints, and my thighs and hamstrings are killing me. And, the front part of my foot/leg where the foot connects to the leg. Very strange.

It's all because it was an outdoor wedding in a gorgeous garden at a local hotel. The hotel is at the top of a hill, the garden about 1/4 mile at the bottom of the hill. I literally made the walk up and down the hill about 20 times running supplies down, helping the florist, helping the minister, just getting everything ready.

It was worth it. The day went great. The weather cooperated with a brief rain shower starting just as people were leaving the wedding site. It was over in less than 5 minutes.

There were only two minor problems, but nothing disastrous. The bride's grandmother who was in a wheelchair decided she had to use the restroom 2 minutes before we were ready to start. The wedding site is not easily wheelchair accessible, at least not from the hotel itself. So, I had to run across the street to an office building, see if it was open and ask if we could use the bathroom. Get two groomsmen to wheel her over there, have someone help her, let the wedding party know what was going on. Kind of a pain, but certainly not the worst thing that could happen.

The other thing was that I couldn't get the ceremonial candle lighter (that was way too big) to stay lit. I was re-lighting it for the third time as the mother-of-the-groom was walking down the aisle. Yikes.

It all worked out in the end and was a sweet, lovely ceremony. I had fun and I learned a few things and I would definitely do it again.

Despite what my legs are telling me.

Save Me

Sometimes God or the Universe or Whom or Whatever You Believe In knows just what you need.

After feeling REALLY CRAZY thanks to the ppd for a couple of days, I had a crazy-busy-pretty-okay week that ultimately left me feeling pretty damned lucky. And loved.

I got a lot of support from three old and good friends. I heard from several friends (via e-mail) that I hadn't talked to in a while and ended up being unexpectedly social this week. Social and highly caffeinated. On Monday, I invited my friend Tara over for coffee in the afternoon. We had a really nice time visiting and I definitely feel closer to her. She's a warm and friendly, down-to-earth kind of woman and I just feel extremely at ease with her.

Tuesday was a drag, but I survived. Wednesday I received a spur of the moment lunch invitation from my friend Jennifer when I ran into her at our kids' preschool. We went back to her house and ate a delicious lunch while the kids ate their grilled cheese sandwiches and played outside.

That afternoon my friend Lucy called and invited me to coffee at her house on Thursday morning. We ended up making homemade guacamole and munching and laughing our bums off at our worst parenting stories while our babies napped and our big boys were at preschool.

Then, today I went for coffee with Lucy, Laura, and Stacey. Jennifer and Tara were also supposed to be there, but sick kids prevented them from joining us. This coffee date was the only thing I had planned all week. But, I so needed to be around other people and to know I have friends who don't judge me for feeling blue when I have everything to be happy about.

They're all moms. They get it, having been there or had loved ones who were there.

I am so blessed to have fallen into this social group. There was no guarantee we would all like and accept one another. But it has really worked out well. I think I've found some women who can become lifelong friends.

I am grateful. I am glad.

Hard to Explain

I really need to clarify something.

No one is to blame for post-partum depression. Mine or anyone else's.

It's not something you did. Or said. Or didn't do.

My body has a chemical imbalance. Nothing less. Nothing more.

Life events did not cause my ppd. PPD does affect how I react to things.

Please. Don't blame yourself. Don't blame me.

It sucks. But it is what it is. And I am working my hardest to make it all better.

Tag. You're It

Jen, aka Evilynmo, offered up this little meme today and tagged us all. So, having never participated in a meme via my blog, I thought why the heck not? It's a pleasant little diversion if nothing else. Oh, and by the way, Jeremy, A., and Suz...Consider yourselves tagged.

What were you doing 10 years ago?
10 years ago this month, Scott, our friend J.ed, our puppy Cooper, and I were all moving into a house together. Scott and I had been together 18 months and in that time I had lived in four different places. The last of those homes was with a psychotic roommate who blamed me when her very, very bad dog jumped the fence and got hit by a car.

It felt great to move in with someone I could trust and have fun with, but also a little scary-exciting to think we were advancing our relationship in that way.

What were you doing 1 year ago?
Trying to get Brendan potty trained, being about three or four months pregnant with Beckett, and pretty much the same thing I'm doing now. Sad how much life stays the same even when it changes. Or maybe that's good. Who knows?

Five snacks you enjoy
1. Cheese, please. Just about any kind.
2. Hummus with carrot sticks, red bell pepper, and pita
3. Fresh, juicy peaches
4. Rold Gold Honey Wheat pretzel sticks
5. Whole Foods veggie sticks

Five songs that you know all the lyrics to
1. Rockin' the Suburbs, Ben Folds
2. Wayside/Back in Time, Gillian Welch
3. Wrecking Ball, Gillian Welch
4. Silent Night (in English and German)
5.Penny Lane, The Beatles

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire
1. Build a house or renovate a house in the City
2. Fully fund college funds for both boys
3. Do something really nice for my mother-in-law and my aunt and uncle
4. Buy a summer home in Ireland and use it as my summer hub while traveling throughout Europe
5. Donate a chunk to an animal charity of some sort

Five bad habits
1. Procrastinating (I have so many other things I should be doing right now.)
2. Losing my temper/yelling
3. Coddling people I love
4. Being unorganized
5. Wine

Five things you like doing
1. Hanging out with friends
2. Cooking/Trying new recipes
3. Reading for pleasure/Learning something new
4. Sleeping late with nothing to do/Lounging in bed with Scott while we talk and read
5. Making Brendan and Beckett laugh

Five things you would never wear again
1. Maternity clothes
2. Blue eye liner
3. Once I get there, nothing larger than a size 4 or 6
4. Business suits (although I can't seem to let go of the ones hanging in my closet that haven't been worn in 5 years)
5. plaid

Five favorite toys
1. My KitchenAid mixer with all its attachments
2. My Powerbook
3. Video IPod
4. Park swings
5. Fast cars

Kate: Which Classic Dame Are You?

Your Score: Katharine Hepburn

You scored 11% grit, 42% wit, 38% flair, and 21% class!

You are the fabulously quirky and independent woman of character. You go your own way, follow your own drummer, take your own lead. You stand head and shoulders next to your partner, but you are perfectly willing and able to stand alone. Others might be more classically beautiful or conventionally woman-like, but you possess a more fundamental common sense and off-kilter charm, making interesting men fall at your feet. You can pick them up or leave them there as you see fit. You share the screen with the likes of Spencer Tracy and Cary Grant, thinking men who like strong women.

Find out what kind of classic leading man you'd make by taking the
Classic Leading Man Test.

Link: The Classic Dames Test written by gidgetgoes on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Blues for Breakfast

Can I just tell you how sick I am of feeling sad and depressed? Of being on this roller coaster of emotion? It's so fucking annoying to know that I drew this card in life. That for whatever reason my body chemistry simply can't handle the normal changes that accompany pregnancy and that just because I brought a new life into this world I am being punished.

It doesn't just suck for me. It sucks for the thousands of women who suffer from post-partum depression. It sucks for their kids and their husbands and their friends. I'm sure it sucks for those of y'all who read this blog to have to listen to me bitch and moan half the time.

I am sick to fucking hell of feeling this way. I can't imagine what would happen if I didn't have the knowledge, the self-awareness to know this isn't right, the support system and love of a husband who is willing to say, "You're not acting like yourself."

I keep telling myself I should feel better by now, be back to normal, not feel so....worthless. Not feel like a bad mother and wife and friend because I can't seem to shake this, to get it together and keep it that way.

I keep having weeks of welll-being where I feel great and it seems like I'm back to normal, better than ever, even. Then, some curve ball comes flying my way and it's all undone.

I don't know myself anymore and I certainly don't like this person very much.

But I know that's not right. I know, intellectually, that it's not my fault. But, I can't help feeling like a failure despite that.

However, I also know that if you were my friend and you were going through this, I would tell you to be gentle with yourself. To love yourself and ask for help. To find something you love doing and try to do it as much as you can. To ask a friend or relative or sitter to watch your kids and come have a cup of coffee with me or lunch or a movie. I would tell you to find someone to talk to who is trained to help women who are going through this. And I would tell you to forgive yourself for the mistakes you make instead of beating yourself up.

If you were a friend and your wife were going through this, I would tell you to talk to her doctor, to help her out with chores and take the kids so she could have some time for herself. I would tell you to be patient and just let her know how much you love her and how grateful you are to her for having your babies. I would tell you to remind her that she is a good mother and a good wife. I would tell you to get her to laugh.

It's difficult for anyone dealing with ppd, whether it's the woman suffering or someone who loves her and wants to help. I think it's hardest to be the one with the disease however. You're already hurting and then to compound matters, you feel like you're hurting the ones you love.

If, like me, you are going through a period of post-partum depression, know that you are not alone and there are people out there willing to help you. Find a counselor, join a support group, don't be afraid to tell your partner, your friends, or your doctor how you are feeling. There is no shame in going through this. The only shame comes from denying your feelings and thinking you can get through something of this magnitude alone.

Mama, You Been On My Mind: May's Perfect Post

It's no great insight on my part to point out that mother-daughter relationships seem like the most complicated and complex relationships that exist. Having grown up with a mom who was less than perfect, I stand in awe and wonder before my friends who have close and meaningful relationships with their mothers. More than that, I actually envy them.

My mother died in 2001, and in her typical overly dramatic fashion, died Mother's Day week. Her funeral was the Saturday before Mother's Day and I spent the next afternoon going through her house searching for anything that might tell me who my father was.

My mom was my mom and I loved her in my own way. But she was not a woman of whom I could be proud. She was loud, defiant, flashy, proud, mean, selfish, jealous, petty, vulgar, and worst of all, angry. She always put herself first and expected others to do the same. She either could not nor would not negotiate. She could never put her pride aside to either compromise or do something for the benefit of someone else.

She conceived me out of wedlock and when she had the choice of putting me up for adoption or keeping me, she kept me. And by the way, she got pregnant with me while her fiancé was in Vietnam. When he offered to marry her anyway, she refused because she was too proud, taking away any chance I had to have a dad.

All I know about my father is that my mom hated him, and according to her, he asked her to have an abortion. I know that for whatever reason, my mother had so little respect for herself that she never had a healthy or normal relationship with a man. The only two relationships she had, that I was aware of as an adult, were with men who clearly did not care about her.

I've spent the whole of my adolescent and adult life trying to figure out how to be anything but what my mother was. From my perspective, she never cared about anyone but herself.

I don't want to be that person. More and more I find myself feeling angry and jealous and petty and bitter. Where I once felt gratitude and joy and generosity and hope, now I find fear and anger and sadness. Like my mom, I often find myself approaching life from a position of scarcity rather than abundance. I know that there is plenty of love and light and hope and everything I need in this life to go around. Yet, like my mom, I find myself thinking as if I have to scrap and fight for every inch and maybe even take some of someone else's to ensure my own satisfaction.

I never used to be this way and all I can do is wonder how I got here. Well, wonder how I got here and try to craft a roadmap out of here.

I want to be a woman my sons can be proud of. I want to make their lives better than mine. I want their lives to be filled with happiness and joy and hope. I want to overflow with love...not only for my sons and husband, but for my friends, and for strangers, and for the world.

I want to be like this woman, Renratt's mom. More and more, I find myself beginning to look toward other women and mothers as the role models of love and generosity and confidence and goodness and compassion that I want to become and model for my children.

Renratt's post gets my award for May's Perfect Post. It's obvious she shares her mother's beauty and goodness and love for the world.

I am grateful to her for sharing the story of her mother's life. If I can become a fraction of the woman she was, show a modicum of the love she had for others, I can be something more than my mom. I can be someone my sons can hold in high esteem.