Reading through these posts I realize largely, I’m not this girl anymore.  I’m a stranger to myself these days.  Keeping up this blog just isn’t me at the moment.  However, never say never.  Sometime I may start this up again or a new one completely.  Who knows, the future is a mystery and I’m preferring that more than ever.

This blog has provided a wonderful outlet for me over the years and probably kept me sane.  For now I say goodbye.  I will keep my tumblr going &  you can find me there should you ever see what’s in my head.

Thank you for reading.  The fact you come back more than once is humbling in so many ways.

My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.
Erma Bombeck

I have one of those college kid ironing boards.  The kind that sit on the floor.  Some day… when I’m older, I’ll get a grown up one. The kind that doesn’t require you sitting on your floor to iron and you won’t have to de-cat hair your clothes b/c they brush up agains the floor.  This morning while ironing my dress for work, Maggie sits next to me.  She asks me if I’m going to wear shorts under my dress.  I tell no.  Then she says “well what if someone lifts up your dress?!” I smile & look at her and let her know “that is very unlikely.”  She looks hard and then concerningly says… “well I think someone might be able to see your underpants in that dress.”   Again I smile and let her know that my dress really isn’t very short at all, so no one will be seeing my underpants.

She looks at me and says “when I’m older, can you teach me how to do that?”  Puzzled I ask, “show you how to iron?” Yes she replies.  I tell her of course.  Then she says “when I’m 7 (she turns 7 in October).”  ”You want to learn how to iron when you’re Seven?  Okay.”  She pauses, looks at me and says “well maybe it will be better when I’m 8.”

Speaking with friends who themselves have begun, are on, or have done their own self-care path, I’ve learned something very very important.  This is something that can be taught.  I was not taught this, hence my tendency to be incredibly hard on and unforgiving with myself.  But as I learn this, my hope, my goal is to help Maggie learn how to care for herself gently.  To be forgiving, to be herself without reservations.  This my friends is a life long project and so easy to stray and loose our way as life throws us the curve balls that teach us these lessons, that in turn help us see what we’re made of and how we care for ourselves. The circle of mental health life.  It seems daunting.  Incredibly laborious and emotional.  I do think most projects come that way, especially to a procrastinator like myself.  I mean it’s taken me 35 years to start on this journey of me.  Loving me, as bat shit crazy, as I am.

Someone said I ruined their image of me, when they found out I wasn’t all together. Which I found hilarious!  I have never been a together person, I get shit done, but usually the hardest way possible.  I guess I put on a good front.   It was only when I realized my actions affected the way someone else will eventually live their life did I wake up.  I don’t want Maggie to make the world hard for herself.  No one told me even half the stuff I would learn being a parent.  And the mistakes, good lord the mistakes I make, I worry that Mag’s college fund will be her therapy fund.   I do find it ironic, for me to teach my daughter to love herself, is not by me loving her (which I do unconditionally), but loving myself with the intention I give her.  Wait… is that irony?

“Oh Mollie, you’re so existential.  When did you get so serious?”

Honestly, I was sick of feeling so fucking sad all the time.  I needed to change it.  I’m part of the “if you don’t like it, change it” camp.   So I’m gonna woo woo this all up and be fearless & happy.  Letting go to be freer.  Free, fearless & happy.  I think that shall be my new mantra.  What do you think?

Btw, I’ve been listening to tons of Devotchka lately.   It’s soothing my heart.  Are you sick of me talking about myself all the time?  I kinda am.

During my little journey I’m currently taking, I’m trying to learn to let go.  Not cover up the fact I screwed up or that it hurts, but maybe just maybe not think, obsess, and create my own private anxiety ridden hell, and let the shit go. It is a practice.  I have a hard time being kind with myself (and with others).  I’m trying not to be so hard.

What’s your way to learn and let go? Maybe we can help each other.

Sitting in the living room this morning as I was procrastinating getting fully ready for work, I chatted pleasantly with my child.  Finally I sighed and said I guess I should go put on some makeup.  And with all the innocence in the world, my child looked at me and said

Mommy you look beautiful all the time without makeup.

I may have to buy her a pony.

Looking forward to reading more books, writing in my journal, taking more pictures and being supremely present.  So if you want to get a hold of me call or text, send me an email or even better… write me a letter.

Happy July!

XO!

Tranny Ranch

I don’t know if there is such a thing as a Tranny Ranch.  What would a Tranny Ranch consist of?  Transvestites dressed like cowboys/girls?  Would there be a Tranny rodeo?  Damn that would be awesome.  Would someone please start a Tranny Ranch?  I would like to go sounds like fun!  I would wear a mustache and everything!  Maybe even a handlebar mustache!!!!  I just got super excited and a little sad, that I got so excited.  *sigh*

When we think that something is going to bring us pleasure, we don’t know what’s really going to happen. When we think something is going to give us misery, we don’t know. Letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all. We try to do what we think is going to help. But we don’t know. We never know if we’re going to fall flat or sit up tall. When there’s a big disappointment, we don’t know if that’s the end of the story. It may be just the beginning of a great adventure. Life is like that. We don’t know anything. We call something bad; we call it good. But really we just don’t know.

- Pema Chödrön