tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14960170609367044542024-02-18T20:30:18.165-08:00...but, who has the time?Random Thoughts & Snapshots of the Ordinary.Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.comBlogger109125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-4108776490480842092014-08-04T15:20:00.001-07:002014-08-04T15:44:00.496-07:00Iara's Words - 19 months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEpqJlyAX6PXeDzPJM5vI_7_3FCi6IXtrbp9mh-FbcaVo_iHJXewNyiJWWYYgYtII8QMKeRXryBU06Y8hb9kcRiq7tiwHtjsL7e6EvF701GyjXQOkxpHYZQC7exWWEqrF_s6OybqAg/s1600/IMG_3114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEpqJlyAX6PXeDzPJM5vI_7_3FCi6IXtrbp9mh-FbcaVo_iHJXewNyiJWWYYgYtII8QMKeRXryBU06Y8hb9kcRiq7tiwHtjsL7e6EvF701GyjXQOkxpHYZQC7exWWEqrF_s6OybqAg/s1600/IMG_3114.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></div>
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Tent - Trent<br />
Sissy - Sister<br />
Brodo - Brother<br />
Hat - Hat<br />
Shoo - Shoe<br />
Howse - House<br />
Sock - Sock<br />
Shrt - Shirt<br />
Pants - Pants<br />
Fud - Food<br />
One, Two,<br />
Mah - More<br />
Ah Dun - All Done<br />
Abo - Acabado (All Done)<br />
Down - Down<br />
Foof Foof - Dog<br />
Mow Mow - Cat<br />
Nasis - Nariz (Nose)<br />
Nana - Banana<br />
San - Song<br />
Pease - Please<br />
Sowy - Sorry<br />
Tanks - Thanks<br />
More - More<br />
Alalala - Orelha (Ear)<br />
Boca - Boca (Mouth)<br />
On - On<br />
Off - Off<br />
Mao - Mao (Hand)<br />
Dence - Dench (Teeth)<br />
Lala Boo - Iara Blue<br />
Tesa - Testa (Forehead)<br />
Agua - Agua (Water)<br />
Bukesha - Kombucha<br />
Sawsouce - Sausage<br />
Onge - Orange<br />
Sat - Sit/Sitting/Sat<br />
Oyou - Olho (Eye)<br />
Pe - Pe (Foot)<br />
Pehna - Perna (Leg)<br />
Peito -Peito (Chest)<br />
Nurse - Nurse (Also Breast)<br />
Back Pack - Backpack<br />
Bushesha - Bochecha (Cheek)<br />
Hep - Help<br />
Hot - Hot<br />
Hottee - Hot Tea<br />
Cokee - Coffee<br />
Carru - Carro (Car)<br />
Bej - Beijo (Kiss)<br />
Bebe - Bebe/Baby<br />
Ouch - Ouch<br />
Boots - Boots<br />
Cut - Truck<br />
Hair - Hair<br />
No - No<br />
Hi - Hi<br />
Dow-Dow - Ciao-Ciao (Goodbye)<br />
Cama - Cama (Bed)<br />
Seeping - Sleeping<br />
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(The ones with a word in parenthesis are Portuguese)<br />
<br />Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-83876223492007526872014-06-02T21:24:00.000-07:002014-06-02T21:24:00.691-07:00Tretn Teaching Iara to Play Basketball<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwVXeX5414NfIAlQd3QisjrXBG2dkdyHzd42IF4DJEX6SuNq6V4EmVXByCaNIwwcUziAB1ULscF13Bm7BDMNg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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There are times I doubt myself as a Mother. And then I remember: I gave them the best gift possible. I gave them each other.Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-1030448058346253292014-06-02T21:11:00.000-07:002014-06-02T21:11:18.204-07:00Real Hero<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggebjvaji-Pasd64loo1WABWEIHloyNS_fFr7D-sYcNQLdQvH9GCXuRwmzuCdklKcS8I9oZVwb7Ze9CTWEyqWPzA7jA0IKyu3G2SpPmTULua5qYBf8-eJkRjtd2sauIu51LcrGGY6b/s1600/love+the+world.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggebjvaji-Pasd64loo1WABWEIHloyNS_fFr7D-sYcNQLdQvH9GCXuRwmzuCdklKcS8I9oZVwb7Ze9CTWEyqWPzA7jA0IKyu3G2SpPmTULua5qYBf8-eJkRjtd2sauIu51LcrGGY6b/s1600/love+the+world.jpg" height="400" width="305" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
-Brian Andreas (www.storypeople.com)</div>
<br />Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-34277085911733112192014-06-02T21:07:00.000-07:002014-06-02T21:09:10.573-07:00To My Sisters, by Monica Day<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-size: 13.63636302947998px; line-height: 17.563634872436523px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I heard this poem recited on a recording of an intensive for women & the power of it hit me so hard I had to pull my car to the side of the road & cry for 5 minutes. I cried again reading it on her website </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />I believe we are at a new crossroads as women that *includes* absolute gratitude for the Feminist Movements that have come before; that *includes* absolute gratitude & Respect for the women who are our mothers & grandmothers & aunts & great grandmothers (and their male allies), and ALL that it took for those women to rise & create the future we live in now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />AND, it *includes* the next step, which is so vulnerable: to take each other's hands; to own, as she says, that 'we are the motherloving majority' & that our rights cannot be taken from us when we are truly united....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />__________________________</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To My Sisters, By Monica Day</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">*as performed at the Unite Against the War on Women rally in Harrisburg on 4.28.12.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Welcome my sisters<br />to Unite Against the War on Women<br />I come here today based on just one word, UNITE<br />I come here to give voice to our struggles, our victories, our defeats<br />I come here in celebration of our potential<br />in memory our ancestors<br />in honor of our children</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I come in love</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But I also come to this unique point in time<br />when the present feels like the past<br />when the future feels riddled with<br />ancient problems re-surfacing</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and if I am to also come in truth<br />then I must say, I come in anger<br />in disappointment<br />I come shaking my head</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">at how much we are forgetting<br />at how much we are willing to give up<br />at how we take the same bait, and have the same fight,<br />over and over</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">at how we have drawn the same old battle lines<br />along the contours of genitalia<br />as if this identifies friends and enemies with any accuracy<br />at how we continue to be distracted by bullies<br />at how we continue to act as if our rights can be taken</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">we are the motherloving majority<br />in fact, if you consider that every single human being on this planet<br />was delivered through the legs<br />held by the hands<br />nursed at the breast<br />loved by the heart<br />of one of us<br />then we are already the ones in charge</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and I can’t fathom<br />why</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">we continue to ask permission<br />why<br />we feel obliged to uphold this system<br />why<br />we fight when we have already won<br />why<br />we do not see our power<br />why<br />we entertain fools<br />why<br />we turn on each other</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">the first person who called me a slut<br />was not a famous radio personality<br />or a member of Congress<br />or even a boy I liked at school<br />but rather it was the girl<br />who liked the boy<br />I liked at school</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">that’s right</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">we are sisters to a point<br />that point usually stops<br />at the foot of a man<br />whatever man wears our collar<br />on the third finger of his left hand<br />our sisterhood ends on the button<br />that secures his jeans</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">let’s be honest<br />my sisters<br />it is our relationship with one another<br />that is tenuous<br />our genitalia doesn’t define our friendship<br />anymore than it defines this<br />supposed war</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">so let’s stop hiding behind it</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">let’s admit<br />that we’re not so sure of one another</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">let’s admit<br />that it’s easier to go to war<br />than it is to love</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">let’s admit<br />that it’s more familiar to fight for our freedom<br />than it is to live with it</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">let’s admit<br />that we may have learned how to survive<br />but we have not yet<br />learned how to thrive</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">let’s admit<br />that we do not<br />see ourselves clearly<br />when we look in the mirror</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">let’s admit<br />that the answer is not in Washington DC<br />or in this Capital Building<br />but it is in our homes<br />in our bedrooms<br />among one another</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">it is in our ability to stop cutting each other off<br />and leaving each other out<br />and judging each other’s choices<br />and letting each other struggle<br />and forgetting who we are</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">it is in our willingness to<br />claim our wisdom<br />own our sex<br />languish in our vulnerability</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">to teach what we know about love<br />and know there is enough to go around</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">our strength lies in remembering<br />that we know how our bodies work<br />that we can say ‘no’ with force<br />and ‘yes’ with abandon<br />and we can speak the direct truth</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and we know with undeniable certainty<br />that no law, no declaration, no panel, no religion<br />has enough power to stand against us when we are truly united</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and we can admit that if we are falling<br />it is not because we got pushed down</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">but because we let go<br />of each other’s hands</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; display: inline; font-size: 13.63636302947998px; line-height: 17.563634872436523px; margin-top: 6px;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">© Monica Day</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(http://www.thesensuallife.com/writing/to-my-sisters/)</span></div>
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Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-44288108011647134712014-05-26T21:35:00.002-07:002014-05-26T21:35:59.002-07:00Truth 4/30Challenging: <br />
A coaching session where I felt a little off. Just not in my groove. I wanted to be able to serve this woman more deeply than I think I did...<br />
<br />
Gratitude:<br />
A beautiful, sweet, fun time playing with friends in the pool & having dinner. I felt relaxed & part of community. My heart surging watching one of the other Dad's help Trent. And swelling with pride watching my fearless son in the pool & how talented he is playing drums.<br />
I belong.<br />
<br />
Plus:<br />
I love ginger ale & bourbon. Yes I do.Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-9297637050048321682014-05-11T21:02:00.000-07:002014-05-11T21:02:52.179-07:003/30So, clearly, these posts are not going to be every day...<br />
That *was* the plan, but: damn the plan - I just can't get it together to write every day!<br />
There will be Thirty Posts of Truth.<br />
<br />
Today. Tonight. What is True, with a capital 'T'?<br />
<br />
Right here. Right now.<br />
<br />
My body is a good kind of tired. The kind that comes from doing some yoga (not today - yesterday) & being in the sun maybe just a little too much (that was today).<br />
<br />
My mind feels smooth.<br />
<br />
Earlier I felt over-tired & anxious.<br />
I had things to do that I was avoiding.<br />
<br />
I still have one challenging email to write, but I have a friend to check in with first - I don't want to write the email from a place of reactivity or collapse...<br />
So, I reached out to a friend. And, it's funny - she's a woman I've known a long time now & we've shared a lot - but, over the last several years, I've distanced myself from her. I've created stories that she doesn't really like me. That she's not 'on my team'...<br />
But, I started to notice that when I was *actually with her* I liked her, I enjoyed her & I felt good being with her.<br />
So, I've been slowly walking myself back onto the path of friendship & it feel tender.<br />
<br />
And, this call I put out to her, it feels tender too.<br />
<br />
It's about work, but not really.<br />
It's about whether I'm valued. Whether I'm being accepted or rejected. <br />
It's about how do I go about valuing myself without being an entitled prima donna...<br />
<br />
So, the Truth about my work right now is: I don't have any paying clients.<br />
The Truth is: In the sessions I'm doing, there are moments that feel exquisite & other moments where I find myself trying to get somewhere.<br />
The Truth is: I'm terrified to put myself & my work out there. Terrified of being rejected. Terrified I'm actually no good at coaching or course leading. Terrified I'll never make money at it. Terrified I'll have to fall back on something else that's boring or that I hate & that I'll be stuck poor with two kids forever.<br />
<br />Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-48429600219935006782014-05-05T07:29:00.001-07:002014-05-05T07:29:40.856-07:002/30 Ooops...I forgot to write last night because I was having sex instead.<br />
<br />
I'm not sorry.Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-60298656894466526142014-05-03T21:13:00.000-07:002014-05-03T21:14:37.839-07:00Iara's Words - 16.5 MonthsBook<br />
Sock (Gock)<br />
Broccoli (Coc)<br />
Shoe (Ish)<br />
Hat (At)<br />
Eye/Oyou (Ooyoo)<br />
Nose/Narise (Nees)<br />
Mouth/Boca (Boc)<br />
Belly Button/Umbigo (Bigo)<br />
Water/Agua (Agua-wa-wa)<br />
Cracker/Pretzel/Snack (Caca)<br />
Up<br />
Mama<br />
Nurse (Nus)<br />
Monkey/Macacca/Macaccou (Cacca/Caccou)<br />
Kiss/Biejou (Bej)<br />
No (said in the sweetest way)<br />
Hi<br />
Bye-Bye<br />
Dog (Oof-Oof)<br />
Cat (Mow)<br />
Bird (Caw-caw)<br />
Basketball (Bah-be-bah)<br />
<br />Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-48170782487098234512014-05-03T21:06:00.000-07:002014-05-03T21:06:08.611-07:001/30 - Today I Forgot About My DaughterToday is Day 1 of a challenge I set for myself - to write every day for the month of May & simply tell the truth: Good. Bad. Beautiful. Ugly. Embarrassing. Exciting. Titillating. Boring.<br />
Whatever - so long as it's the truth for that day (or moment)...<br />
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(If I'd been more on it, I would have started May 1st, but - Oh well - that's sort of how my life goes these days)<br />
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So, today, I took the kids to the 5th birthday party of one of my son's best friends. They've been in preschool together for the last three years & Trent just loves him. And I really like their family. And their youngest really like Iara. Wins all 'round!<br />
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And we had a great time - until it came time for the Birthday Boy to open his presents & suddenly all the other children (including Trent) descended on the poor boy like f*cking vultures, offering to 'help' him open his presents; screaming; elbowing each other; and generally acting like little beasts.<br />
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This is a bad situation for Trent, who gets really overwhelmed, but can't seem to pull himself out of the group. I could see he was starting to get frustrated, and he started pushing himself closer & yelling, and I kept having him move out of the group, or at least in the midst of kids I know he does well with (and who do well with him) - and away from a couple kids he was clearly 'sparking' with.<br />
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And then, after about 15 minutes of this, I suddenly realize I have no idea where Iara is!<br />
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And I had a mini panic attack.<br />
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And she was fine - standing about 10 feet away, seemingly totally in her own world.<br />
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Some other parents noticed all this & said they'd asked her if she wanted to come closer & she kept saying 'no'.<br />
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And I felt simultaneously relieved that other people had been taking care of Iara & *totally embarrassed* that I had been witnessed in the act of *forgetting all about my 16 month old daughter*!!!<br />
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Seriously, what kind of a parent does that?!?!?<br />
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I am losing my mind...Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-1275225942384390292013-12-22T20:37:00.000-08:002013-12-22T20:37:05.039-08:00Iara's Words at One YearUh-oh (or uh-uh-uh-oh)<br />
Peek-a-Boo - boo (with hands over eyes)<br />
Wow<br />
Iara - ra-ra<br />
More - bah (with hand motion)<br />
Dog - oof-oof<br />
Goodbye/Ciao - dah! (with a hand wave)<br />
Poop - thbthb (with hand motion)<br />
Pee - ssssssKendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-83750153791789624092013-06-24T13:28:00.000-07:002013-06-24T13:28:35.456-07:00He Rides A Bike NowMy heart hurts a little every time he rides away. He is growing up, and Joy & Loss are constant bedfellows...<br />i don't even want to think about when he goes to kindergarten.<br />
Somebody please hold me.<br />
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<br />Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-90543265618605938392013-05-26T20:56:00.001-07:002013-05-26T21:16:46.337-07:00Cyclical, Circular *or* She'll Be Coming 'Round the Mountain When She Comes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Today I watched this amazing commencement speech (by David Foster Wallace):</div>
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And I thought: Yes, yes, YES!!!<br />
And I cried a little bit - hearing him acknowledge the tedium of being alive.<br />
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Jesus, sometimes what it takes to get through the day is just so fucking mind numbing, and it's refreshing, actually to hear someone say it.<br />
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Today was one of the good days. One of the days where I do things that make me feel accomplished & connected; one of the days where I feed myself well; one of the days where I make it out for a walk to drink in the beauty of where I live.<br />
And I found that the blueberries were ripe. The ones on public land. Near my house. And I ate them by the hand-full, right off the bush.<br />
And Life felt GOOD.<br />
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Plus, Daddy #2 & I reconnected, and I was able to stay in the sweet spot: you know the one: where I am firm & also open-hearted. I stood my ground & said: this is not OK, and I also said: we love you.<br />
And, when he said, "I hate you", I felt practically giddy; started laughing.<br />
Sometimes the truth is all it takes.<br />
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And he came over & cried with the baby.<br />
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****************************************<br />
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Now I am sitting downstairs in the dark, writing - listening to the baby (hopefully) coo herself to sleep in her basket.<br />
She is such a different baby than my first.<br />
And I am also a different Mama.<br />
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I don't think I ever would have tried this with the first, but I also think he would have cried instead of just talking to himself...<br />
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Sometimes she will lie on my bed & just stare out the window, looking at the wind move the leaves on the tree outside my window.....for, like, five whole minutes. Not making a sound; not wanting anything. <br />
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****************************************<br />
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Daddy #1 took our first-born to the city for a bit.<br />
They went to a ball-game & did fun city things. Things I might enjoy, but probably not with my kid. When he gets all hyped up, I get all stressed out.<br />
They have their rhythm(s) & we have ours...<br />
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Baby girl & I find a different rhythm without Big Brother.<br />
I miss him SO much & I see her looking around for him - and, then, there's something nice about the quiet & not needing to try to balance both of their needs, which are so different right now: the 4 year old boy & the 6 month old girl...<br />
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It's hard to not occasionally regret not doing more with him before she was born: more running, more jumping, more getting into the sandbox & the bath-tub with him<br />
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Two is hard.<br />
One was still kinda free & sexy.<br />
One meant there were still periods of being alone & doing my own thing.<br />
Two is frumpy & perpetually smelling of something: sweat, mama-milk, spit-up, whatever the older one just wiped on my pants...<br />
Two is *never* alone.<br />
Two is some serious fucking touch overload!<br />
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***************************************<br />
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Though I find that I still want to have sex.<br />
That I am not so touch-saturated that I don't want the touch of an adult.<br />
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Of course, it's all hypothetical right now, so who the fuck really knows.<br />
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Sometimes I think we would get along better if we were still lovers.<br />
Or maybe that's the worst idea ever.<br />
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****************************************<br />
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Yesterday was staying up too late, eating too much sugar, watching a movie.<br />
And today I feel like I can take on the world.<br />
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Cycles & rhythms.<br />
Sometimes we have a choice & sometimes we don't.Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-36551989950563640542013-05-20T21:17:00.000-07:002013-05-20T21:17:48.732-07:00FourTrent,<br />
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My firstborn, my love, the one who made me a Mama.<br />
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What can I even say to you, for you, about you.<br />
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You amaze me. You astound me. You humble me. You. Are. A. Force. A force of nature.<br />
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You are so ALIVE. And so beautiful, you take my breath away.<br />
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Today you are four. FOUR!<br />
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Four seems like such a leap from three.<br />
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Three was still little; almost still a toddler & four - well, four is KID.<br />
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You run SO fast & jump SO high.<br />
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You choose your clothes & dress yourself. You like to play a game where I say I don't think you can get your clothes on by yourself & then you do. You never tire of this game.<br />
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You are climbing trees & on top of the play structure. You like to scare you Mama.<br />
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You are wicked-fast on your skuut & today me & Daddy gave you your first pedal bike. You & Daddy practiced all day today, and even though it was hard & you got frustrated, you kept wanting to try.<br />
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Your love is HUGE & your heart is so tender. You care very much.<br />
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The other day you yelled at Angel, when she stepped on a Roley-Poley bug: "That's not OK! Roley-Poley's are our friends!!!" Although at the time I asked you to use a softer voice & not yell in her face, I actually felt really proud of you for standing up for something you care(d) about in a righteous way.<br />
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I can tell your path may not always be easy, but it will always be yours. The strength of your conviction is strong - and that is a gift.<br />
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You wear dresses & you fight with swords.<br />
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You love unicorns & you turn everything into a gun. (which drives your Mama crazy!)<br />
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You love basketball & you're actually really good at it!<br />
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You memory is amazing - crazy-sharp!<br />
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You are my absolute greatest teacher & I bow to you every day.<br />
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There is no greater privilege in my life.<br />
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I love you, Trent Carlo - as big as the ocean & all the creatures in it, with none missing.<br />
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Love,<br />
MamaKendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-39592645646738101342013-05-20T20:46:00.000-07:002013-05-26T20:57:24.394-07:00Iara BlueBaby Girl, you were born smiling - that's just the kind of girl you are.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5 days old</td></tr>
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You have brought sweetness & joy. You rejoice, truly, in life. Everything is cause for giggles & you make your brother laugh & laugh.<br />
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But you are not a shrinking violet - you let me (and the world) know, in no uncertain terms, when you need something.<br />
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And, my Iara Blue, you are beautiful. Gorgeous, really. So much so that I am in awe that you came from me.<br />
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Your brightness stuns me in the best possible way(s).<br />
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Girl, I love you. So very much.<br />
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And, your brother - oh man - he LOVES you. And you ADORE him. I catch you, all the time, just gazing at him, in awe. You watch everything he does. You take it in. You are learning from the best...<br />
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Some days, when I doubt myself & my worthiness in having brought you into this world - I remember: you get him for a big brother. For always.<br />
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And we get you - the sweetest of the sweet. Our baby pterodactyl, or ostrich, or whatever makes those funny sounds you make.<br />
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And your Daddy, well, the only thing he's not confused about is loving you. I think it scares him, actually: how much he loves you...<br />
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Thank you for choosing us, Baby Sister. For gracing us.<br />
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Love,<br />
MamaKendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-21434928392297079032013-02-24T18:55:00.000-08:002013-02-24T18:55:04.430-08:00And Then There Were Two...It says something about life with two kids that she was born on Dec 13th & I'm only just now posting this...<br />
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Iara Blue Alves Cunov<br />
Born at home<br />
7lbs 9oz<br />
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Healthy, beautiful & a total LOVE<br />
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<br />Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-38312157429820769422013-01-19T17:19:00.002-08:002013-01-19T17:19:50.037-08:001.19.13<br />
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<span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}" style="color: #333333; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.38;">How am I feeling? Overwhelmed. Sad. Also: kind of amazing.<br />I'm definitely in process right now. Plus, just-had-a-baby-hormonal - which is to say: high highs, low lows.<br />Admitting to making a mistake (in moving to Guerneville) has been SO hard & also liberating for me. I literally started crying the first time I said the words 'I made a mistake' out loud.<br />I have been vacillating between thinking there's something wrong with me *because* I need to ask for help, and thinking there's something wrong with me because I don't have more help...<br />And then, feeling kind of bad-ass for packing most of my home on my own, with a 3.5 year old & a 1 month old.<br /><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">I am beyond grateful for the help I've gotten: meals, lovingly made & delivered, loads of my (way too much stuff) picked up & moved to my new home...<br />Often feeling 'what have I done to deserve such selfless help?'<br />Trying to let go of the need to have done something to deserve it...<br />Beauty & grief & gratitude & loss all overflowing out of my heart & eyes.<br />Let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go...</span></span></h5>
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Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-70409824891571736362012-11-28T20:07:00.000-08:002012-11-28T20:07:49.905-08:00Run Away<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="userContent">Run Away<br /><br />is what most human beings would like to do a good deal of the time. It is the flight part of the fight or flight deeply in our bodies and our past, it is our protection, an evolutionary momentum and a biological memory deep in the human body that allowed our ancestors to survive to another day and bequeath to us, generations later, this day. To want to run away is an essence of being hum</span><br />
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<span class="userContent">an, it transforms any staying through the transfigurations of choice. To think about fleeing from circumstances, from a marriage, a relationship; from a work is part of the conversation itself and helps us understand the true distilled nature of our own reluctance. We are perhaps most fully incarnated as humans strangely, when part of us does not want to be here, or doesn’t know how to be here. Presence is only fully understood and realized through fully understanding our reluctance to show up.</span><br />
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<span class="userContent">To make a friend of the part of us that wants nothing to do with the difficulties of work, of relationship, of doing what is necessary, is to learn humility; to cultivate self-compassion and to sharpen a necessary sense of humor and a merciful approach to both self and other…</span><br />
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<span class="userContent">…We know intuitively that most of the time, we should not run, we should stay and look for a different way forward, … but we are wiser, more present, more mature, and more understanding when we realize we can never flee from the need to run away.</span><br />
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<span class="userContent">From Readers' Circle Essay, "Run Away"</span></div>
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<span class="userContent" style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">©2011 David Whyte</span></div>
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Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-77775332619305034892012-11-28T20:00:00.000-08:002012-11-28T20:00:19.367-08:00<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't have much contact with mainstream media or reports on which famous people are doing what, so I may be way behind the times here...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">But after I read about this over on <a href="http://peerieflooers.blogspot.com/">Peerie Flooers</a>, I am just loving the Pinkett-Smith family that much more:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">On letting their daughter, Willow, shave her head, Jada Pinkett-Smith responded: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 28px;">The question why I would LET Willow cut her hair. First the LET must be challenged. This is a world where women, girls are constantly reminded that they don't belong to themselves; that their bodies are not their own, nor their power, or self determination. I made a promise to endow my little girl with the power to always know that her body, spirit, and her mind are HER domain. Willow cut her hair because her beauty, her value, her worth is not measured by the length of her hair. It's also a statement that claims that even little girls have the RIGHT to own themselves and should not be a slave to even their mother's deepest insecurities, hopes, and desires. Even little girls should not be a slave to the preconceived ideas of what a culture believes a little girl should be."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 28px;">(<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/11/27/jada-pinkett-smith-willow-smith-hair-critics-girls-should-not-be-a-slave-facebook_n_2198183.html?ir=Black+Voices#slide=more266021">source</a>)</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 28px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And Will Smith said:</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"We let Willow cut her hair. When you have a little girl, it's like how can you teach her that you're in control of her body? If I teach her that I'm in charge of whether or not she can touch her hair, she's going to replace me with some other man when she goes out in the world. She can't cut my hair but that's her hair. She has got to have command of her body. So when she goes out into the world, she's going out with a command that is hers. She is used to making those decisions herself. We try to keep giving them those decisions until they can hold the full weight of their lives."</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(<a href="http://www.parade.com/celebrity/celebrity-parade/2012/05/3-will-smith-wanted-life-dallas.html">source</a>)</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Thank freakin' G-d for parents willing to challenge themselves (and all of us in the process) to allow their children to be more than a reflection of themselves!</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I would go further, and say we must teach both our daughters *and* sons that their bodies are their own, that their thoughts are their own, that they need not conform to societal 'norms' *nor* break them in simple rebellion - they are truly their own people. Perfect & perfectly loved - for their own sake.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Not for us the approve or disapprove, not for our profit & gain, and not for furthering our ideals & ideas.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">For. Their. Own. Sake.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As Utah Phillips said in a speech he gave at the </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21px;">Washington State Young Writers Conference: </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.200000762939453px;">"You are about to be told one more time that you are America's most valuable natural resource. Have you seen what they do to valuable natural resources?! Have you seen a strip mine? Have you seen a clear cut in the forest? Have you seen a polluted river? Don't ever let them call you a valuable natural resource! They're going to strip mine your soul. They're going to clear cut your best thoughts for the sake of profit unless you learn to resist, because the profit system follows the path of least resistance and following the path of least resistance is what makes the river crooked!"</span></span>Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-48646819640069142162012-11-26T20:55:00.001-08:002012-11-28T20:01:26.000-08:00Beauty & the BeastSome days I notice the light shining through a brilliant red leaf & my perspective shifts so the whole world looks beautiful.<br />
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Some days I just can't see, or I don't notice & I miss all that beauty.<br />
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Some days I do notice & even all that beauty just isn't enough to soothe the broken feeling...<br />
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So..."Ring the bells that still can ring..."<br />
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<br />Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-54563938335849647102012-11-26T08:29:00.004-08:002012-11-28T20:01:56.503-08:00On FireTrent: What song is this, Mama?<br />
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Me: This song is called 'I'm on Fire' & it's by Bruce Springsteen.<br />
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Trent (after a few moments & looking perplexed): Where is he on fire?<br />
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**LOVE HIM***Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-69092900755995984332012-10-25T19:14:00.000-07:002012-10-25T19:14:20.302-07:0040/100 (A Continuation)<a href="http://butwhohasthetime.blogspot.com/2011/09/20100-non-bucket-list-bucket-list-or-i.html">{1-20}</a><br />
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21. File my taxes on time<br />
22. Be debt free<br />
23. Scuba dive<br />
24. Extended travel with my children<br />
25. Waldorf teacher training<br />
26. Discover my Life's Work<br />
27. Have a photography show<br />
28. Make pickles<br />
29. Can/preserve yearly<br />
30. Feel self-sufficient<br />
31. Trust {other people}<br />
32. Stop doubting myself as a mother<br />
33. Tell the Truth. All the Truth, all the time.<br />
34. Work a polling center on election day<br />
35. Donate yearly to {at least 5} organizations I believe in<br />
36. Live in a home {that I LOVE} for over 5 years<br />
37. Dare to Dream<br />
38. Let go of the Dream{s} & Live NOW<br />
39. Get over {the potential of} my ex-husband<br />
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40. Knit a sweater for myself<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span aria-live="polite" class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px; outline: none; text-align: left; width: auto;" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">sculpture by Paige Bradley<br /><a href="http://www.paigebradley.com/" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer;" target="_blank">http://<wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block;"></span>www.paigebradley.com/</a></span></span><div class="fbPhotoPagesTagList" id="fbPhotoSnowliftPagesTagList" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; text-align: left;">
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<br /><br /><br /><br />Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-40591989491895353262012-10-25T18:49:00.000-07:002012-10-25T18:50:51.332-07:00I Flow. I Am.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Quiet friend who has come so far,<br />feel how your breathing makes more space around you.<br />Let this darkness be a bell tower<br />and you the bell. As you ring,<br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">what batters you becomes your strength.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Move back and forth into the change.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">What is it like, such intensity of pain?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In this uncontainable night,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">the meaning discovered there.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And if the world has ceased to hear you,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">say to the silent earth: I flow.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To the rushing water, speak: I am.</span></div>
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Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-14027954728600825702012-07-05T19:21:00.001-07:002012-07-05T19:27:14.337-07:00The Oh-So-Much-nessMy last post was March 10th.<br />
That means it's been almost 4 months since I've posted anything.<br />
The interesting thing to me is that it actually felt like longer...<br />
Like another lifetime...<br />
<br />
I've been caught up in Life, or, as I like to call it: The Oh-So-Much-ness<br />
<br />
Oh, so much cooking; Oh, so much cleaning; Oh, so much making music by hitting one object on another object (and the related: Oh, so much defining what can & cannot be used as a drum/drum stick...)...<br />
<br />
Just now, I am at the end of day 5 of a 7-day <a href="http://www.manouso.com/intensive.htm">yoga intensive</a>.<br />
I have laughed, I have cried, the muscles & bones in my mid-back are talking to me quite loudly; I have not slept nearly as much as I hoped I would (though I fall asleep in in class during Savasana & Pranayama every day).<br />
<br />
I am missing my <a href="http://butwhohasthetime.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-moment_23.html">boy</a> *intensely*...<br />
<br />
The Dad messaged me that they slept in <a href="http://www.hwos.com/sites/hwos.com/files/images/gallery/1_ImagesOfHeadwaters/photos_full/headwater'smeadows.jpg">this meadow</a> last night.<br />
So much sadness, so much joy; I ache.<br />
<br />
And, each day, my belly grows.<br />
Who is this new little one?<br />
Will s/he ever know this Dad?<br />
So much joy, so much sadness; I ache.<br />
<br />
Oh. So. Much.<br />
<br />
Love.<br />
<br />
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<br />Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-64681207976483444952012-03-10T06:56:00.000-08:002012-03-10T06:56:06.655-08:00A Lot of WorkConversation with Trent before bed. He is building with his leggos.<br />
<br />
Me: Time to brush your teeth!<br />
<br />
Trent: I'm still working! I have a lot of work to do...<br />
<br />
Me: OK - just a couple more minutes & then it's time for us to brush our teeth.<br />
<br />
As I walk away, I hear Trent saying to himself: A lot, a lot, a lot a LOT of work to do!<br />
<br />
And, then, about two minutes later, he walks up to me & says: OK Mama - I'm done. Let's go brush our teeth.<br />
<br />
Oh. Wow.Kendrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03680830384711389212noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1496017060936704454.post-76297411338762534622012-02-25T07:34:00.000-08:002012-02-25T07:34:32.070-08:00{These Moments}{inspired by <a href="http://www.soulemama.com/">SouleMama</a>}<br />
<br />
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