Princess Dreams

My buggy is 3. I keep saying and writing and looking at those words. They have yet to sink in. 3!!! How did we even get to 3.

Triumphs and challenges. Faith Trust and Pixie Dust. Some days I don't know where I found the strength, some days I don't know how to be without her.

I jumped into a new 30 days of journal prompts. Day 1 was introduce yourself: I am a Mom. That was the first thing I wrote. Then went on to my other roles and what they mean. I always think "I'm a mom" first - but I have yet to see it manifested so openly like that. I think of myself as a mom first. Even when I don't always know what that means.

Looking back that really has shaped the last few years. My priorities, choices, reactions, and efforts are all based on that. Which has caused a lot of changes. Loss of friends, and savings, and personal space. However a friend came back into my life in a way I never thought she would.

This past year would have been so different without Caity. Without the Halloween party (that brought us together), and the Defying Truth Concert (where the truth came out oddly enough). And that trip to Chico (that we'll probably never forget). Now she abandoned me for a handsome boy in San Diego, but I don't think I'll ever be able to thank her for what she's done this year.

Peyton is 3. We made it. Soon we'll be through this mess of potty training and on to reading and math. Then Pre K then Grade School and before I know it she'll be graduating College - AHHHH! It seems like only last week she drew her first "P" - oh wait it was.

God made rainy days so gardeners could get the housework done.

The rain is here. (Yes it rains in California) And while the first rain includes a terrible allergic reaction for me, its a welcome adjustment to the last few weeks.


This fall has been beautiful and wonderful. Buggy is now 3!! I have no idea where the last 36 months went, or how she got so smart(she wrote the letter "P" for me-all by herself!), but she is. And I love her so much for it. We're having a princess party on Sunday, designer cupcakes and tiara's included. I love being able to give her magical days and making her dreams come true.


The penpal disappeared again. He, or I, or we got busy and lost touch. Stopped making adjustments for each other and now he's gone. We've talked once every couple weeks. Maybe he'll come back some day. I finished my last Moleskine to him this week, let him know I'm done trying to write to him, I'd rather write for me now. Priorities, you know? So today's storm is a willing adjustment.

A reason to whole up and hide out under a blanket. A reason to eat soup and reflect. Now if I could just fill those blank pages

the days flee and are restrained by no reign

"Time glides away and as we get older through the noiseless years; the days flee and are restrained by no reign." - OVID

I'm terribly guilty of not working in my art journal for lack of time to properly commit. When I am unable to make a beautiful long artistic page, I don’t even start. This in turn causes a lot less work that I'd like to get done.

I was recently quite inspired by a community post on a livejournal group for journals. Here is a sample of what she posted:
Here is the post into EMBODIMENT: community.livejournal.com/embodiment/1701526.html

I want to do this. I want to have a place to put down SOMETHING everyday. Some of her pages were just a few sentences and a receipt. I have one empty book at home that I didn't quite know where to start. I think this may be my solution.

Anyone else use a similar set up? A daily diary of events; so to speak. I'd love to hear about it.

The shortest distance between two points is under construction

"The shortest distance between two points is under construction" - Noelie Alito



The Penpal -This man, that turns me upside down. I've been writing, filling Moleskines with letters for him. Which is making me even more impatient. I actually have to resist texting him hourly. I'm always bursting to talk to him. It's officially bordering on Lovesick. I bought a webcam so we could skype, but a tiny piece of me would rather keep it this way. Letters are so romantic in their loneliness.