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.”

((*BIG MOMMA SIGH*))

My daughters have been like having twins, in more days than not.   Even when they were little, everything we did, we did in pairs.  Change 1 diaper – change them both.  Do one girl’s hair – then do the other.  I taught Daphne, right along side of Rebecca, when doing numbers, shapes, letters, colors, and so forth.  They learned to ride a bike on the same day.  They spoke within days of each other.  So many times it was like Rebecca was waiting for Daphne to ‘catch up’ – before she would do anything.

Same thing for the prom.  This was their first year going.  Each of them…. Together.

My beautiful daughters.

My beautiful daughters.

You gotta get down... you'll be taller than me in those heels!

You gotta get down… you’ll be taller than me in those heels!

Daphne - Classic elegance

Daphne – Classic elegance

Rebecca - Princess

Rebecca – Princess

easter

That is a type of tequila actually…  LoL

But it is also a Nine (9) number.  Nine is a number of completion.  It is usually reserved for when we have accomplished something.  When we have obtained success in a matter.  Generally business related.  But I like to think that it is also in our spiritual paths as well.  Most of my “Ah Ha!!” moments happen on Nine days.

My life path is changing so rapidly I am having Nine days – almost every nine days! I sometimes can’t believe that its March already, and yet, when I think back to just last week, I was hanging out with Kreed just a week ago – and it feels like a Month has passed since I was being hugged by her. Again, that whole Time-Relativity thing is happening, still. Of course when I was with her, I had another Nine day…. Figures.

Some really auspicious occurrences in my life have a happened on Nine Days. Daphne’s birth. The day that I graduated from Willy. The day that I met Tigger and Christopher. The day I quit college and moved west. The day that I chose to be born.

I can’t wait to find out what happens on the next big Nine Day.

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You take a lot from her. I don’t know if I could.

Yes I do.

I freely admit that I take a lot from my daughter. I am the brunt of most of her outbursts. I am the one person that she blames for every thing wrong in the world. I am the one person that simply cannot do anything right, nor help her in any way, at all. I am the one person that she truly hates in this world. Heck, I’m worse than every boy who’s ever broken her heart. Yes, to my daughter, I am the Antichrist.

For me, being a parent means that I have to be there for my kids… No. Matter. What.

Even, being there for them, when they are at their lowest points, and are so angry, hurt, and upset with Every Thing that they Know; they lash it out at anyone within arm’s length. As the saying goes… “Hurt People… Hurt. People.” Generally themselves, the most. Most people run and hide. After all this is the sensible thing to do when confronted with someone who is bound and determined to hurt someone, something, anyone, anything – to make it feel better. ((not that this actually makes anyone feel better, as we all know))

Me. I stand right there next to her. Doing my best to make sure that in her fury; she doesn’t harm herself. Sometimes… Well, sometimes, I get a bit battered and bruised, in the process.

Yet, I don’t know that I like the alternative.

So after talking to J, the girls’ therapist, I’m going to give Daphne what she wants. I’m going to let her move-in with her dad.

After all, I will be out of town this weekend, till Tuesday. I can add on tonight, and make it nearly a week long thing for them all.

Oh yes. Them all!

A few things about this that came up in talking with J.

1) Baggage goes with you.
Is that Daphne (and her dad) have got to learn that her baggage is going to follow her, wherever she goes. Life doesn’t get easier just because you move away from home. You still have to find ways to cope with your life. You still have to learn how to express your emotions. You still have to do your homework. No matter where you live.

Sure its going to be easier when there is nobody around to hold you accountable, right up front. Yet, it will catch up to you all the same. Usually though by not dealing with it, in the beginning, you end up having to deal with a much worse situation. Call it Karmic Interest.

2) Your siblings get to move out too.
Oh yes. Rebecca, Bronwyn, and Russell all get to come along. Its not fair to them, if Daphne gets to go live a live of luxury over at Dad’s place, and they still have to eat green beans for dinner. I’m not going to sit here and defend the idea that somehow she gets to have special privileges of no Study Hall, no curfew, fast-food take-out, no laundry duty, no chores, and no accountability for where you’re at, or who you’re with; if the others don’t.

The EX complained that he doesn’t get to spend time enough with the kids, well here you go. Which is a complete falsehood, because it is rare, to non-existent that I ever deny him, or them, time together. He even admitted this to me during our “conversation” this morning. AND again, when I brought it up, while we were having an additional “conversation” about this Trial Week.
Me: At any point do I force the current child-time-share agreement?
Ex: No.
Me: Have I ever told you that you were late in bringing the kids home on a Sunday?
Ex: No.
Me: Have I ever told you, No you can’t have the kids, and take to the beach; because that is on a weekday?
Ex: No.

3) Living at Dad’s means Living AT Dad’s.
No coming home 9 times in a day because you forgot something. No coming back to the house to sleep on school nights. Yes, Rebecca and Daphne do this. They pick and choose where / when they will sleep at home, vs sleeping at Dad’s. They don’t like having to walk the extra 7 blocks to the school bus in the mornings. But sleeping here at home, when I’m not here; is basically not living with either parent. Its living alone. They don’t get to do that during this Trial Week.

Living there means following all of Dad’s rules. If that means going to bed at midnight, or sleeping on the floor, or having to throw out the trash. So be it. I will not be driving by your Dad’s with fast food, because you didn’t like what he was serving. Oh, he does this to me, all the time. He will simply come by the house with a bag from Taco Bell, as I’m serving dinner.

So this will be a very interesting 6 nights. I know, I know, I know – a week is 7. Be grateful for the 6 days, I’m not sure I can handle more than that. I’m trying.