• worked in 3 different positions
• became a manager for the first time
• experienced two healthy pregnancies and, thankfully, the births of two healthy babies
• left work for two maternity leaves — the first, which I was all too happy to come back from to reclaim my former self from a needy newborn; the second, which seemed much too short because I had gained a sense of how quickly a child grows up
• built a house with The Ex
• moved out of that house and bought one of my own
• went through a divorce
• experienced the promise of the kind of relationship I want and need
• changed my name back
• found my identity
• discovered what I want to be when I grow up
• wrote a novel
• wrote a lot of other stuff — and saw my first two essays published
• started a blog
• redesigned my blog – yes, it’s just about ready!
• got psyched about turning 40 this summer (yep, you heard me say it!)
• learned to value my friends and family more
• learned that the only person I need to please is me

I know a million other things have happened, but those are the ones that come to mind. One of my favorite quotes is:

Some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity…

~ Gilda Radner

I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to see what the next ten years bring.

Holy mother of madness.

That’s all I can say about this one.

Pregnant for more than 11 of her 41 years? Does she just burp and they fall out? Would it have been so bad to pick a different letter for each of the kids’ names, rather than the same one? They’d make it through at least one round of the alphabet, maybe more at the rate they’re going.

Okay, each to his own, but the idea of more than 2 kids, no less 18 kids, in my house arguing about Pokemon cards and TV shows and homework and who’s going to take a shower first and so-and-so’s bothering me and when can I drive the car — AND trying to remember their freakin’ names — makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

I know they believe it is God’s will to keep having children, and that’s fine, but methinks God may be out running heavenly errands at Walgreens and has lost count Himself. Well, hey, best of luck to them. Hopefully she’ll at least get breakfast in bed tomorrow!

Since then I’ve gained more confidence in myself and my parenting abilities, although any parent will tell you that, just as you delude yourself into thinking you’ve mastered one stage, your child is on to the next! My kids are also old enough now to express their feelings to me. But maybe most importantly I’ve learned (and am still learning) to rely less on expectations, whether created by Hallmark or in my own mind, and to define being a mom in ways that make sense to me.

Mother is Community.

While I would love to get married again one day, I believe families come in all shapes and sizes. I know moms who are married and single, with biological children and with adopted children. One of my coworkers, a woman who I’m guessing is in her 30′s, has even opened her heart to become a foster mother — wow! Our key to survival — and being able to thrive — is to ask for and accept help, something I haven’t always been so good at.

You may hear that it takes a village to raise a child, but I’m here to tell you that it definitely takes a village (or two) to raise a mother.

Mother is Motion.

I used to think of “mother” as a noun, a name, but it really involves action. The dictionary defines Mother, the verb, as “to give birth to” and “to care for or protect.” I don’t think that does it justice; to me, it’s more like:

mother vb To care for, protect, laugh, cry, shout, yell, praise, swaddle, clean, scrub, smile, ignore, regret, feel guilt, worry, hear, smooch, roll eyes, launder [clothes-sheets-towels-toys-clothes-sheets-towels-toys...rinse-repeat-rinse, does it ever end?!], chuckle, discipline, grit teeth, give time outs, take time outs, cut [food-construction paper-fingernails-hair-clothing tags], cheer, gaze, feed, bathe, read [baby books-bedtime stories-homework-report cards-doctor's notes-'how to' this and 'how to' that-poems of love and loss, written for you and perhaps for others], wipe, wipe again, wipe some more, dress, enjoy, admire, snap at, take pride in, teach, raise, drive around, drive batty, observe, support, counsel, hug, kiss, shop for, pay for, defend, listen, save, nourish, love.

Mother is Gratitude.

I have it good as a mom, better than many. Being a parent has taught me about keeping things in perspective and being thankful. I have a wonderful family, including MY amazing mom, boss, coworkers, neighbors, an ex who is a loving and involved father, and a strong network of friends, both online and off.

Thank you. You all have made a difference in my life.

And, Drama Girl and T-Rex, you may exhaust me, and you may still not quite understand, but you are an endless source of inspiration. Now that we’ve met, I can’t imagine my life without you.

Have a great Mother’s Day, Mamas! Define the day as you like and, for God’s sake, get ye to the spa and take a break from all of that motion.

• Blue on Black – Kenny Wayne Shepherd (Depressing, sure, but I love KWS and this is one of my all-time favorites.)

• Somewhere I Belong – Linkin Park (Sort of an accidental purchase for me — I bought the Meteora CD on impulse – pre-iPod – because I liked “Breaking the Habit.” I quickly realized that every other song involved a bunch of screaming, rapping stuff my 30-something suburban tendencies couldn’t take… but this angst-filled one grew on me.)

• China – Tori Amos (Yet another ditty about distant, broken relationships – because you can never have too many of those, right? Tori’s voice is beautiful and haunting, but she scares me a little. I’m just saying.)

• Damn Right, I’ve Got the Blues – Buddy Guy (The title kind of gives it away. I really like the blues, if for no other reason than the lyrics are usually easy to sing along to.)

• (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction - The Rolling Stones (If you’ve never heard this one, there is no hope for you. Sorry.)

When ABBA’s “SOS“* came on I started to laugh. I mean, how could I not? I wasn’t really in a “bad” mood when I started out, but oddly enough the songs put me in a darn good mood by the time I got to work. I guess that means both the iPod and I have a sense of humor.

*Yes, I have eclectic musical taste. And I have lots of happy songs on my iPod, too.

For a half hour she refused to address me with anything but a growl. Then, right as we were leaving the house, she gave me a hug and began speaking in human again.

Yeah, I think the teenage years will be a piece of cake.

A: Uh, is this a trick question?

At 8:00 this morning I arrived at the soccer fields for my assigned parent-volunteer “booth duty.” You might recall I’m not exactly a morning person, but I felt relatively energetic as five other parents and I opened up the concession stand. While Drama Girl played her game, we brewed horribly strong coffee with water we pumped from the well, began grilling hot dogs and kielbasa, and fed young children Doritos and Gatorade, the breakfast of champions.

My job was the best, though: I got to empty an institutional-sized can of nacho cheese into the crockpot. Nothing like that smell to shake the sleep out of your system.

We had absolutely no idea as to what we were doing, but shared quite a few laughs. The only bummer was that I missed DG scoring a goal. I was probably too busy scooping out particles floating in the water cooler before they ended up in the coffee pot.

Trust me, picking up a $4.00 mini-tall-mocha-espresso-skinny-latte-yada-yada on the way to the game is worth every penny.

Wow!

I owe those of you who recommended it a big thank you. It’s definitely the kick I need, and I’d recommend it if you feel “stuck” in how to pursue a creative project, dream job, new business venture, or even personal wellness in spirit, health and your relationships.

Of course, it’s ironic that when I started reading, I also began my own form of procrastination (defined as Resistance in the book): I decided it was time to sign up on Facebook. I’d been thinking about joining for a few months as a way to increase my blog readership, network with other writers and to reconnect with family and friends. After viewing one too many MySpace profiles that were so loud they made me want to put a spike through my head –not that yours would be obnoxious, dear readers…profiles or spikes– I decided to try this. I’ve already spent way too much time trying to set up my profile and stuff.

Yeah, resistance all right.

So now I need to get back to my synopsis. Just after I eat dinner…

I know… you can only control yourself, timing is everything, life isn’t fair, everything happens for a reason, God grant me the serenity, your luck sucks (ok, so that last one’s for me).

In short, AFGO (Another F–g Growth Opportunity), as my friend T at T’s Quest wrote to me, quoting one of her favorite authors. Great. At the rate I’m going with all of these “opportunities”, I’m going to end up becoming my own country song.

So, after pulling the old Nancy Kerrigan Whyyyyyy Meeeeee?, I switched to Nike mode. (I know I’m mixing metaphors — a little country, a little sporty — bear with me.) I determined that the best way to keep moving on is to keep moving and just do…something. I took that FGO and wrangled it into a mixture of potting soil and deck stain. In the end, I at least had control over this:

And this:

Well, I did until late last night when I heard the rain coming down and read that the temperature is supposed to significantly drop in the next 24 hours.

Life Lesson #8,762: Don’t wait until Sunday night to check the weather. There ain’t no controlling Mother Nature.

PS. Do you think Tonya Harding would star in my country music video?

Other highlights:

DG’s Favorite Part of the Day: The chocolate chip muffin I bought her for breakfast, followed by the goody bag from Corporate Purchasing filled with candy and various logo’d promotional items that I hope to hide in the trash.

Mom’s Favorite Part of the Day: DG holding my hand and skipping as we walked around downtown on our lunch hour. Most favorite: her exclaiming, “[Name of Firm] — you make me so happy!” upon arriving back at my building after lunch.

What She Learned About Our Business: “Um…I don’t know. But I got to keep my fake money! I’m rich!”

I wish.

On our walk back to the car she saw a dandelion and ran over to pick it from the pitiful patch of grass growing between the sidewalk and parking lot. Closing her eyes she made her wish and blew.

As I write this I think that may have been my favorite part of our day: seeing her smile, eyes closed, oblivious to the cars rushing by on the street next to us. It was a moment of quiet joy in an unexpected place, right where I walk every day.

Dear Writing Muse,

Thanks again for stopping by and helping me write my synopsis over the last week. I appreciate your efforts, I really do, it’s just that…well…how do I say this?

I’m a bit concerned about you. I mean, I know I got the words down on paper, but, honey, Anne Lamott wasn’t kidding when she wrote that chapter, “Shitty First Drafts” in Bird by Bird. My draft is bad. Really, really bad.

Tell me the truth — are you on something? Is it because I listened to Big Sky one too many times? You know I love Annie, but some of her songs are a bit angst-ridden…

It’s because I started reading the messages printed on Dove chocolate wrappers for inspiration instead of you — right? I’m right, aren’t I?! Oh, c’mon. You have to admit, “There’s a time for compromise…it’s called ‘later’” is a good one.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but when you show up with crazy hair and spewing a deadly combination of boring and nonsensical prose in my ear, what am I supposed to do?

Look, it took some doing to get me back in the writer’s seat for yet one more piece of this novel-writing business, but I did it and you held up your end of the bargain, too. You showed up and I appreciate that. You always make my first drafts interesting, Muse. And, you make me realize that I’m lucky I like editing.

Anyway, go get some rest. We’ll both need it for the next time.

Love,

Susan