My pretty foot.

My pretty foot.

All the way around to my ankle.

All the way around to my ankle.

These were done by Daphne.

Yep. They were among her first attempts at even doing any sort of henna tattooing.

This all came about because of my sweet sister.

At the beginning of our Sisters Retreat Weekend, we are asked to stand up and announce to the Circle who we are, and what we bring to the community. Some women respond with, I’m a massage therapist. Others say, I’m really good at listening. I spoke of my own truths and talents. Daphne’s response was: I’m Daphne, and I’m not good at anything. I don’t have any talents.

My sisters strove to change her mind on that. And Saturday morning one sister asked Daphne to put a mandala on her belly. She, like many of us, know about Daphne’s talent for free-handed drawings of mandalas. She brought some henna and told Daphne to decorate. So she did. After all, even Daphne knows not to speak back to one of her aunts. LoL

Beautiful henna - made even more so by the little boy inside.

Beautiful henna – made even more so by the little boy inside.

I am so grateful to her, and the others, who encouraged my child. To the ones who complimented her talents. To her for decorating my own foot and ankle. I feel so ubber pretty with my decorations. The only direction I gave her was to start at my big toe, and end around my ankle area. I think that she did an amazing job. I am looking forward to more of her talents being displayed upon my body.

At the end of the weekend, we are asked to give our thoughts on our experiences. Daphne said, “I’m grateful that I now know what my talent is.”


My eldest has officially grown up, and moved out into the great big world, on her own. ((**Don’t get me started*)) She is transforming and changing into this amazing person that I am so lucky to have gotten to spend 18 years with. Its been hard coming into her room. Okay, took me 11 days to even open the door… but who’s counting.

Little by little, I have been spending more and more time in Rebecca’s room. Its been her room since she was one (1) year, and three (3) weeks old. Again, who’s counting. If it wasn’t her room, it was her and Daphne’s room. Or her, Daphne, and Bronwyn’s room. Then it was for a little bit just Bronwyn and Russell’s room, until she moved back in and we gave Russell his own room.

She’s not going to be a little girl, living in this room any more. So, I’m transforming her room into it’s next phase, too.

Let the transformation begin.

Let the transformation begin.

Oh yes... this is going to take 2 coats of primer.

Oh yes… this is going to take 2 coats of primer.

I can still see blue paint.... pffft!

I can still see blue paint…. pffft!

“One Day” has magically arrived, like the fairy tales describe. It was just suddenly here. I thought that there would be more time. There isn’t.



The sun is bright -n- shining today ~ just like you.

I can still see the excited litlle girl, who laid out her red flower backpack 13 years ago.  Who wanted me to braid her hair each morning, “2 braids Mommy!”.  Who always insisted on wearing a dress, and that I not cry.

My heart is full of Love for you.  Joy at the beautiful girl you’ve grown into.  Pride at the way you are chasing your dreams with both hands.

Senior Year

Senior Year

Now before me stands an excited young woman, laying out her cap and gown.  Wearing soft curls in her honey locks.  Twirling around in her princess dress.

And insisting that I dry my tears.


This parenting clip is brilliant…must watch to the end!!

Posted by Boys Germs on Wednesday, January 28, 2015

I’ve been doing the “Mommy” thing for 18 years.
I can say that I have been Every Single One (*with exception of disposable diapers*) EVERY Single one of these types of moms. Even with my Ex being a SAHD.
There’s no 1 Perfect way to be a Mom.


So rebecca made a big claim on Twitter last night about how awful her life was, and that she had cut herself.
So I asked her about it, today. Wanting to know if this was real, or just something to get attention.
She was noncommittal in her response. And refused to show me any marks. And so I told her, “Well okay that’s fine play the role.”
Well Rebecca decided that she had to prove me wrong. 
She showed me where she cut her skin with a razor blare. 
6 little red lines.
Like a message, Of my little sister can do it, I can too.
It’s just a cry for attention. 
She was actually smiling, as if she was proud of herself, for proving me wrong.
I’m starting to get bored with the things that teenaged daughters come up with,  to garner attention.
Between this, Bronwyn’s temper tantrums, and Daphne’s gauges and hair dye jobs….. I want to curl up in an over sized chair, with enough books and good wine, to last me till they are 20, 23, and 24.

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