One of the things I love about my children is their love for each other. I remember when Andrew was being bullied when he was 16. It was stressful. I can remember Evan, 14, telling him that he would gladly take an ass beating for him. And it would have been just that. That's it. I have always told my boys that I don't approve of fighting unless you are defending a weaker person or yourself. But if you ever see your brother in a fight, you had better come home worse than him. To this day, any of my sons would fight for each other, the girls, Rylee. They are not bad asses. They are not fighters, but they are in. I remember Rylee's face when he heard someone would have to fight Bradley, Andrew, and Evan to get to him. He was so surprised and had the biggest smile. It is nice to be part of something, to have people in your corner that are willing to risk something. There are reasons to get knocked down.  These are the good things. Just sayin.

From a blog that I love:


“silence is the language of God, all else is poor translation."

If nothing else, my blog is 3 things: a not very subtle cry for help, a dabble into narcissism and a dash of masochism, and a history of me for my children and anyone else that loves me enough to know me. Being heard is life to me. Dramatic and true. That said, I struggle with not having anything relevant to say. Nothing important or deep or funny. Today is just normal.

When I go for long drives through Canada, like I did this weekend, I think about all the houses of people. People like me. I imagine or know that every house has a Karen, a Hot Fudge Sundae, a bunch of kids. There are people living their lives like me, thinking, crying, and laughing. About the same shit. I think it is so big and overwhelming, and it makes me realize that I am not even close to being the center. There are people trying to figure out why they are here and what to do next. I'm thinking about massaging people next. I need to help people in some way. I like giving so that people will like me. I'm trying to be funny, but it's probably true. Regardless, it's good to be the recipient of all that, right?

I had a happy Thanksgiving. I was at Niagra Falls looking at the power of God. That's how I see it. I am small in a huge place.

Thanks

It's that time again to list the reasons for being thankful. The things I have or see or experience that make me say Thank You to God. Here goes:

I am thankful for my kids. They love me. I know they are supposed to, but they even like me. They notice what I do and think it is good. They call me Karen.

...for my kidneys. I will never take them for granted again after 2003.

...for the people I work for and with. It's my sanctuary along the lines of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. I am safe there. Wow.

...for my upbringing. I have seen it all. Or at least enough.

...for my mind. It battles my heart at times, but it will win.

...for hope. I know it's for chumps. And it will damn near kill me, but I embrace it. Sigh.

...for my husband and friend and lover. He has ruined everyone else.

...for the sunsets, wine, and laughter. For reuniting with friends and finding out I am ok.

...for chocolate.

There is more, but I need to go to the bbq. Love to all.



...

Tonight is the Big Man on Campus "show" at school. It's basically a beauty pageant for guys, which is hilarious. Girls would do this for the ego strokes, but guys do it for cash ($200) and the chance to shake it in front of an audience. I am so glad for the exhibitionism of my son and his friends. It cracks me up and makes me think that Mardi Gras is in all of us. There are some very cool people who would criticize them, but they are kings to me. I love a front man. Every girl does.  So kiss it, haters. We live once, and we should laugh. It's Friday, so if you get the chance to howl at the moon, do it. You may not see the moon tomorrow.

22

Evan is in a program at school that will train and certify him to be a Certified Nursing Assistant upon graduation. I am thrilled at the fact that he will have job skills and will be able to earn some money through college. He is learning things like blood pressure, anatomy, and the 22 steps in washing a vagina. I am impressed. Even on my birthday, I don't think I've ever gone beyond maybe 5 steps, and that would include fragrance and glitter. But there are, in fact, 22 steps. I think it drops way down for cleaning a man. Probably 2 steps. Turn on hose, spray. Regardless, I am beaming.

I am so happy that my kids are going to be ok. Robin and I were both realizing last night over some wine that we haven't done too much permanent damage. A little perhaps, but you need to be a little complicated, right? We have purposefully and deliberately raised our people. My kids will only one day know the calculated efforts and ideas that I implemented. Be kind to people, especially the weak ones. Find somebody to be nice to, don't lie, don't let other people tell you what to believe about God. He is capable of letting you know Himself. Dance often. Learn how to argue at home where it's safe. The world is a bitch. Don't be stupid. Laugh at yourself. LSU is the only team really. I tried. I read books and pondered. I suck at some things, but I am a good mom. I am a smart ass and I say no, but they all know there is no limit to my love and willingness to support and enjoy them.

This is a great day. I found that joy I was looking for. ;)

Joy

I wonder if all we are is what other people think we are. There are people that think I am selfless. Or funny. I talk too much. And there are some that think I am completely selfish and rude. Can they both be true? How do you ever really know what you are? I personally would like to know, because I am constantly trying to get better. To evolve into a benevolent being. I try so hard. Am I what God says I am, and what is that? I look in the mirror and see an aging little girl. I have no real power. I don't look very good on paper. But I see things. I see people. I understand why people do what they do and say what they say. Why they withhold love. We are all struggling for power and control. It keeps us safe. I am too quick to give my power away. I trust, and it kills me every time.

I am not selfish. The complete opposite, in fact. To a fault. It's debilitating.

Whatever ingredients were mixed together to make this Karen Thing (I wish it were a dessert), I can't change them. Evidently, I am what I am. And so are you. I can't seem to find my joy at the moment. I am searching. Desperately. It's not in any of the places I keep looking. It's probably in the couch cushions or in my purse somewhere.

Today is Isabelle's birthday. I am so proud of her.

I got to visit with my friend Robin last night, aka my bird. It is so wonderful and comforting to say things that I am only trying to grasp, and she gets it. It is possible to be known and understood, and that is one of the best things in life to me. I truly enjoy our time.

Going to work. I love my job. I am not sure why I get such a kick out of it. I think it is the combination of moving around, interacting with so many people, and having a tiny bit of responsiblity. So much fun. Have a nice day.

An Otter on Our Lake

On our dock.

Who's the best?

It's just a game. I know that. But I admire the dedication so much. Maximus, I have been entertained.

Evan's last football game of his childhood is tomorrow night. He has been playing since he was 8. I can honestly say I have loved every minute of it. Except the concussion. That was freaky.

There is something honorable in giving yourself wholly to something. Sacrificing your sleep, strength, so much time, and your pride to be part of a cause. I have watched Evan and so many other boys suffer in August. I mean bear crawls in wet grass in Florida as the temperature rises at around 11 AM. I have never seen them give up. It is the most amazing life lesson I have ever watched. My son knows how to get harshly reprimanded and respectfully carry on. He got to take snaps from his brother Andrew and Tyler Jolley, throw to Ryan Latner, defend with Coach Wayne Gieger, and so cool, team up with his best friend Chase Julius the whole way. 1 to 7. I called it early on. Eat it, haters.

I have cried a few times already. There have been some last times for this and that. But tomorrow is the end of something. I love it all. Thank you Kim, Miss Toni, Linda, and so many others for the hilarious, wonderful, unforgettable times. It is a huge part of my life that I would not change.

 And Jenny Jenn. We knew. I love you with all my heart, and more than that, you know I love your boy with all my heart. Thank you for the pictures, the fun, and the spirit. I am better for all of it. There is no one else hanging on every snap with me like you. We are always expecting, hoping, willing the big one. The long pass, the pressure, tuck it and run, the joy in their countenances. Best thing in the world. The sideline prayer, overtime under the lights, practices by headlights.  I don't mean to be disrespectful, but I don't need Heaven. I have lived it. My heart is so full.

Thank you, son. You have been a joy through the whole thing. Just thank you.

I am reading a book on writing memoirs. I know. I would rather read about writing one than writing one. But this guy is brilliant. I am inspired, if nothing else, to open my eyes. I am a flickering flame, avoiding drafts as best as I can. Last night I said to a friend that 3 things were for chumps: Brakes, pap smears, and hope. Maybe not. I just hate needing any of them. It's always a disappointment or some unpleasantry. Grinding pads, pushing down and feeling a litlle bit of pressure, or allowing yourself to think it will all be wonderful.

Robby Latner . I think of him every time I hear Little Miss Can't Be Wrong.  His mother is the Spaniard. (see my bar fight team) I had a tiny part in his starting collge, and he is still there! Against the odds, no doubt. He hates English and only has charmed his way through a lot of classes. But this would charm any teacher. From the heart and facebook. Poetry, and I love it:

People don't play sports because its fun. Ask any athlete, most of them hate it, but they couldn't imagine their life with out it. Its part of them, the love/hate relationship. Its what they live for. They live for the practices, parties, cheers, long bus rides, invitationals, countless pairs of different types of shoes, water, Gatorade, & coaches you hate but appreciate. They live for the way it ...feels when they beat the other team, and knowing those two extra sprints they ran in practice were worth it. They live for the way they become a family with their team, they live for the countless hours of work they put in order to compete at their very best. They live for the competition, they live for the teammates, the practices, the memories, the pain, its who they are. It's who we are.

One day, I will write everything. I won't censor myself, or protect everybody from my opinions. Ha! Life is so strange, and I will somehow make it right.

Tonight will be fun. Football sudden death. Geaux Evan and Keystone!

I am always wondering what God thinks about all this. It's so quiet on His end. Like talking to a gravestone. I've done that so many times, but there is no reciprocation. Sitting on the grass talking to the "in Loving Memory"...silence. I talked for so long the other night on the way to Miami. It was raining, midnight, and I had no phone. So I talked and cried and cried and talked. It was good, if not a little weird. But I still believe He hears me. I am not sure about much else. I can tell by the world around me. That's my proof if I need it. I don't, but it's there in front of me.

I know that religion is our attempt to connect and understand God. I know that it's man's way to control himself and the people around him. I know our steeples and music and postures are all attempts. I think it's fine. Well, the reaching out to God is fine. The control thing is just another ugly thing we do. I hope this isn't all there is. I hope there is no hell, and we get to have sex and dance in the afterlife. Why wouldn't I?

I like to sit quietly in front of Him. I am known, and that is everything to me. I don't even know me, so it's a comforting thought to think I am understood, regarded, and loved. I wonder if I created my own God to fill my holes? I will be happy to know the truth one day. About Him and me.

He who seeks beauty will find it. Bill Cunningham