Monday, May 18, 2015

feeling a bit guilty

Most of you know by now that when I do remember to blog its pretty free form. I've never been that blogger than had a daily schedule or word count. Yeah, there is a bit of advertising on the page but honestly its never made me a dime and I am not (as of yet) trying to make a living blogging.  I know some professional bloggers. Keeping up with content and et al is hard work. I never really saw that in my plans and even know its probably not something I'm going to commit to.

Having said that, I also read all my responses and emails so I do know I have a bit of a following.  I want to thank y'all for checking even when you know darn good and well there probably isn't anything new here.

As this pregnancy moves into its final leg I'm hoping to be here (in front of my lap top) more.    I know if you follow me on fb and twitter you know I'm the world's biggest pregnant cry baby.  I feel all kinds of guilt about that.

So while I'm here lets talk about it.
Why do I feel guilty about complaining about being pregnant.

I guess to begin with we better start with the begining.  I've talked in some places loosely about our struggle to become parents. This isn't our first pregnancy. Its just our first sucessful one. Each day I praise the Almighty for however many weeks plus days we progress.  We've never made it past 12 weeks before. To be 24 weeks and 1 day...well hallelujah!!! HOLD OUR MULE!

That in and of it self is enough to make a chic fill guilty.  I honestly wish I could eat every complaint I've made.  Really, I do. Even when I'm sitting here mentally bitching about the ache in my back, the numbness in my limbs, the fact that at 24 weeks I'm still puking( and by proxy peeing) on myself.  I hate those complaints. Because somewhere in my heart I know this is what I signed up for. This is the long haul and I'm definitely in it. I wouldn't take the alternative if you handed me a billion bucks tax free.  Every day I tell myself to suck it up butter cup.
and then I complain about whatever else.

At 34 and after 8 active years of trying, well I honestly wasn't prepared. Everything I ever read, researched, heard an ancedote about...none of it means a darn thing. Everything is new and scary and strange to me.  THERE IS A PERSON IN MY ABDOMAN.  Ok, that was a mild freak out, but you know he has hiccups right now and he is moving and it feels so gross. No on every once said "it feels really gross when they move around."

Everyone is always like its so cool and you can feel and hear and yeah...... no.  Nope.  I mean yes it is but on the same, no its not. Its gross and its uncomfortable and frankly, its really nasty feeling. like someone is know what lets not go there.

I know some of  y'all are like " drea, suck it up."  but let me tell you as much as i bitch...I'm still having a hard time with the decision that cwb and i decided to share this pregnancy publically. We've never ever done that before. There has only been one other time that we told anyone.   So even though I'm complaining I'm not putting it all out there like i said I would.  I'm kinda after the fact about most of it.  I've been IN the hospital more than i've admitted. But i didn't want to alarm anyone so I kinda just went stayed came home and gripped about being sick.
 Being in the homestretch I feel like I have a little room to breath (and I mean very little, dude this kid takes up space) so I'm slowly admitting to being sicker than just a whiney baby.

I miss writing, but I promise I am not just being a spoiled (we all know i am) incubator. There are days that I literally slept all day and I couldn't tell you when where what how or with whom anything got done.
In fact, i'm slowly peicing together parts of each month with the hubs and the roomie, because honestly I was just so sick i lost a week or so here an there.

And being stubborn and being a "worker" has been hard for me.  I don't like laying around...ok wait let me correct that. I don't like laying around when it wasn't my idea to just lay around.  I don't like being forced to rest. Even though i know i need to just cruise through this.  I'd just started an amazing work out routine and I can't do it. ITS KILLING ME to see this treadmill standing steadfast next to my desk in my bedroom and I am resticted from it.
In the long run I know its for lil CWB to be the best lil ninja sithe punisher he can be, but I'm still pouty.

I've got several friends who are ftm and btdm ( first time moms and been there done thats moms) who are having babies around the same time as me who are doing things like hiking in the rockies, crossfit,   a stage production of the wiz with three daily shows.  I hate them.
I can't drive to the gorcery store with out puking.

I'm just saying that even though its almsot done and I know the "worst"  and "best" parts are coming...well, yeah... i'm not always a complainer but i've been the worlds worst pregnant chic.

And even though I'm mostly smiling...its because I really can't stop the natural instinct to smile for the camera.  Those smiles are hiding some fierce determination to adopt all of Cannon's Siblings.

And I feel so bad y'all. Because I asked for this glorious mess. I prayed for every bit of this with just as much passion and furvor as I'm sure Hannah Prayed.  If anyone had seen me on my knees the would have thought not only was i drunk but higher than snoop dog eating brownies at willie nelson's house.

I realize that guilty mom syndrome has already set in.  And Even though I'm not the first or the last and or even unique in my situation...i still can't help but be Drea about it. I'm sorry if you've been annoyed with my bitching.... actually i'm not. I worked hard to get here. To this place were I can cry randomly cuz I peed on my self five seconds after leaving the bathroom. I'm not sorry if I've acted like the only woman to ever puke standing in the shower so she can rinse of the inevitable urine.

The only people I think I  am really sorry to is those who haven't or still can not realize the dream of a gift i've been given. I wish I could say with certainty "your turn is coming"  I wish i could promise that it will be just like this for them someday.  For those people. I am sorry if this has been too in your face.  Thank you for being on this train with me regardless.

I love you

Thursday, April 2, 2015

Thinking without my glasses on aka i should be sleeping but i'm staring at the ceiling fan.

Today I had a long conversation with an old friend and its been on my mind every since.
He was telling me how he'd broken up with his wife... again...wait let me clarify : his third wife in fifteen years... third seperation from said wife in two years.
While he was talking I was thinking "dude, you sure can pick 'em"   but tonight, laying here trying to decide if i want pickles and pop corn or pickles and ice cream ( hey hey i'm pregnant i get to want wierd shit) I was thinking... "meh, what if its not the women...what if its really just him?"

I mean honestly, you're having nearly identical problems in three different marriages to three very distinctive women. It can't all be them right?

I'm mean granted he tends to go for a certain type of "golddigger" but HEY he has a type.

So it made me think of all the times I broke my own heart.   And by that I mean it really wasn't a situation of me changing or that person changing  or growing but of me faking like something was ok when it wasn't.  We get so excited about the instant attraction and lust. We get wrapped up in the archetype of forever monogamy and love.  We forget the possibility of fleeting joy and momentary happiness and try to make a fling last forever.  Some times things just aren't meant to last.  They are one or maybe a few time uses and then you're supposed to trade 'em in for the next model. Its like trying to use an analog phone on a digital network... yeah the call might go through, but can you hear me now?

Honest to goodness, sometimes in life we break our own hearts.

Its easy to say that someone did or didn't' do, but at the end of the day if you can look back with a hundred percent open hearted honesty, its really not so much about the other person, but about you.

we have these expectations and we forget that expectations are just about as useful as  opinions. Everyone has them...expectations and opinions, its just rare that they are the same..and even if they do match up there ar those tricky lil grey areas where one might vary just slightly from the other.

Most times those slight variances are bigger than we want to believe. they are huge like..grand canyon wide chasms.  For one person  its a shruggin matter  "meh, ok" bur for another person its a hard line. no crossing no "meh" about it.

Whats that got to do with breaking your own heart?  Well, that's the thing  some times in order to get a long we "meh" about things that aren't really "meh" able.   We want the end result, so we cave on things that actually we probably should have drawn a hard line on.   Its not that the other person didn't live up to our expectation..we negotiated our expectation or "hard line" with ourselves in order to "fit" with the other person. our hard line now has a splinter and the more we rub up against it the more that splinter irritates the shit out of us. It becomes infected and it festers. Forms a boil full of puss and when that sucker explodes-- KABOOOOM!  Mount Vesuvius is Jealous.  But is it the other persons fault that our hearts are broken?  Did they take a tiny chisel and start chipping away, fissure-ing little lines of demarcation on our spirit or did we, in our quest for the fantasy, do all of that?   Did we smile when and giggle, batting our eyes in a coquettish manner to cover the tears when we really wanted to let them fall and yell "mother fucker what the hell..."?

Yeah...we often break our own hearts by not at least acknowledging the little thing...we thing we've hammered out the big stuff so hey don't sweat the rest... and maybe the rest isn't sweat worthy. But what if it is... what if aaaallllll those little things add up and then become big things?  What if we didn't hammer out all the big things: " are we  exclusive, fuck buddies, getting married, playing house, having kids" and so worrying about the little things is just a distraction from the fact that the elephant is not only pink...NOT ONLY in the room, but is getting its dick sucked by two politicians and a flamingo in leather?

There is a whole circus of shit going on but WE keep sweeping it under the rug and when shit goes to hell in a hand basket we start tossing the blame:  "he she they did said didn't"

But do we look  back and say...i should have spoken?  I should have said or done?  I should have drawn a hard line and accepted that what i expected verses what was happening wasn't matching up.  I sacrificed. I gave up on or overlooked.   Some times we are so focused on the BIG PICTURE, the END GAME... that we aren't even aware how horrible the battles really are.   We often hear "can't see the Forrest for the trees", but sometimes you gotta take a look at all those trees. Are they really trees or are they weeds that have gotten out of hand?  Is the garden really thriving or is it overgrown?  Is that pimple really going to heal on its own or do we just need to pop that sucker and flush it with some peroxide?   Did so and so really break our hearts or did we just fail to meet our own expectations.

Friday, February 13, 2015

Confessions of a future former fat .... MOMMY

Confessions of a future former fat chic MOMMY

Well, the last time I was here was my birthday. Whoda thunk it? THIRTY FOUR!  And boy was I doing it up big, lol. I partied all week and ate too much and gave zero fucks…man, I gave so much less than zero fucks there isn't a negative number to equate with it.  So many fucks…so much fucking *clears throats*… Ummm ah hem… yeah, so ummm.

Anyway, basically if you know me (and you do) you know I had a great holiday season. SO GREAT in fact that I ended up getting the gift of a life time.  God works in mysterious ways. LOL He waits until your giving less than a damn then whamo you’re knocked up. LOL,  You guys already know this, but just to clarify…Alpha/Prime and I are expecting our first child this summer.

Ok ok stop laughing!  Most of you who've been along for this ride with me know that the one thing I really was focused on in all our “efforts” was to NOT be pregnant during the summer. At least not big fat can’t wait to pop pregnant.  We should have all known that I’d mess it up.  Sometime back in 2013 I watched  “what to expect when you’re expecting” and over a bucket of margaritas and a several rolls of paper towels ( I was hormonal and had just had an mc) I said to my Godbrother “you know that’s gonna be me: if and when it finally happens, I’m gonna have one of those horrid pregnancies. Puke Pee and sleep.”

BOY WAS I EVER RIGHT.  I’m not going to regale any one with all of that right now but suffice it to say, if ever there was a self fulfilling prophecy I spoke it that day.  Not only that but we are firmly in winter's grip here in North East Texas, and I've been regularly wearing flip flops, shorts and tank tops.  Yeah, you read that right...and the temp isn't supposed to get much lower except and odd day here or there.  Its gonna be a hot effin summer.   

 We made a very conscious choice to actually announce this pregnancy (something we've never done before) and share the entire journey…knowing that there could be a chance for  …well we’ll just leave that unspoken. Its still fairly early in the game and we are still waiting cautiously. Every breath is a prayer. Every check up sends our nerves through the rough. But we are hopeful and prayerful and gratefulSo far we are delighted.  I mean lets be real. I’m tired of the severe nausea (I'm seriously one step from being admitted and attached to iv's but i'm doing my best to avoid it) and the puking and the not eating and the sleeping, BUT I wouldn't trade it for the alternative! Each day that we progress is a blessing and I’m thankful. Even when I’m face down in the toilet, my heart sings.

And I’m thankful for all the support.  Yes, I sometimes roll my eyes at the advice. And some days, I kinda just want to vent and not get any advice, but I knew I couldn't do this journey without you all. Everything reminds me of how blessed I really am.
So when I’m here, most of what you’ll be hearing is my take on pregnancy and all its joys.  Some of it you may have already heard if you follow me on the book of faces. *shrugs* it is what it is.
I started this post three full hours ago, I’ve stopped to pee every ten minutes and I’ve managed to forget where I was going with this when I sat down so I guess I’m done.  Time to take the meds and wait for sleep to claim me. (scary right, the insomniac sleeping!  DUDE AND I MEAN SLEEEEEEEEPPPPPINNNNG, like i'll see you guys in 14 hours or so type of sleeping.)

Blessings and Shenanigans!


Sunday, December 7, 2014

To Dréa On Her 34th Birthday

Traditionally, I do this as a note on facebook, but this year is new and so the format should be a bit different.  It started a few years back and I guess some people are rather used to it. So much so that I got several messages about it.  I was going to do an update about being a future former fat girl, but talking about the weight I lost and then gained and then kind of lost and then KINDA regained can wait.  I've only got a couple of hours left in my birthday and since I basically slept the day away (hey! Don't read too much into that; I had other adventures leading up to it and there are tons of things planned for the weeks after it), I figured, I could do SOMETHING productive. So I drug myself from the comfort of my books, blankets, birthday pizza and one last cup cake(Oh,Tesh, you don't know what you've done to me with those cupcakes!) with a cup of coffee and here I sit to pontificate and remunerate. 

I almost let this year go by. Honestly, the call of the sheets and pillows was so strong that I could have stayed in bed until today was tomorrow and never batted an eye. But alas you’ve been haunting me since the moment a sweet voice sang “happy birthday” at midnight.  What wisdom do you have for me this year? What words of encouragement, adventure, and bravado will you spew into the universe on this 34th anniversary of your arrival on this planet?

You weren’t the only one, among the myriad of birthday wishes via social media, email, and text messages also came the entreaties of “hey, did you write a letter to yourself this year?  Where is the letter to you from you?

I’ve kind of circled around the idea all day and thought to myself, “What can I say to you that we don’t already know? Haven’t already looked each other in the eye and said a million and one times before?”

I thought of a couple of quotes I’d seen recently.  One by Jose Chaves
“I’m done chasing after better versions of myself, as if I’m never good enough as is: I’m tired of taking myself back to the store, and saying, I’m broken, flawed, or not what I wanted; from now on, I’m going to take myself out in whatever condition I’m I, and fly myself like a kite, high above the rooftops and say, “ I love being this crazy fucking kite, and there’s never going to be another one like it again.”
I think that one is pretty self explanatory; it comes on the heels of so many pep talks from so many wonderful people. Encouragement that I’ve tried to absorb but for some reason there was this barrier, that just wouldn’t let it truly sink in.  I know I’ve been trying so hard to put on this face… this façade of confidence bold as brass. Vibrant and open, but truly inside I’ve been trying to meld myself into whatever shape, mold that would be most acceptable. Most palatable to those I wanted to please.  I wasn’t satisfied, not because I wasn’t satisfied but because I still felt I had to be and do what was expected. I needed to dance even though I knew the song wasn’t right. I needed to go through all the steps, or at least pretend to practice them even though I knew I didn’t know what the fuck the moves were supposed to be. I needed this year to give the perception of having it together. Of being on track, not because I was and not because anyone told me I had to be, but because after being off the rails for so long, I felt like people were tired of waiting on me to “get on board”.
I’m over that.  Being on board. Being glued together. Smiling as a bandaid.  I’m also over a lot (probably not all) of the false bravado, the whiskey courage, the fake it till I make it.  I’m just going to be me. Broken, bent, bruised, battered, brazen, bold, belligerent, bossy, bitchy, brainy, bullheaded and bound to fuck it up:  Me!

The other thing I saw was a poem by Tyler Knott Gregson,“ I just may be the strangest person you will ever know. I am filled with too many oddities and too few consistencies and I will always lack the spongey filter that should live between brain and mouth. These defining traits these enduring characteristics and these fingers crossed that in all of it, you will find them irresistible.”

That poem pretty much lets you know that my “declaration” above isn’t carved in stone.  I will probably always be a mix mash of contradictions. I am ok with that. 

I’d also be remiss if I didn’t take a moment to thank my heart. Something magical has happened in the weeks leading up to this birthday. And while I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to share with the world I can say this, my heart…my cup runneth over.

So to Dréa on her 34th birthday, I say this:
Dear Dréa,
As always it has been a long and adventurous trip around the moon.  You’ve accomplished nothing and everything, and that too is uniquely usual for you. There are so many things to say to encourage yourself this year. So many platitudes and mantras; they mean everything and nothing all at once.  You’ve discovered who you are and who you aren’t. Who you wish you were and who you’ll never be.
You’ve closed doors and given witness to wounds. You’ve opened cans and boxes and jars, even knowing the destruction that would come.  You’ve gained understanding and you’ve thought yourself into even more confusion.
You’ve been fabulous and fierce. You’ve been weak and weary. You’ve been wonderfully dreadfully human. And today, on the beginning of your thirty-fourth trip around the sun, you’re just as (un)prepared as you should be for what this world has to offer.
You’re on the cusp of greatness as you’ve always been.  On the tight rope of life just like every other poor sucker out there.  Keep your eyes forward and worry about yourself. It’s the only way to make it. In years past you’ve worried about others even when they themselves have warned you not to. Time to take that to heart. Now, that doesn’t mean I want you to turn in to a stone cold bitch, it just means it’s truly time to put you first.  Not just petty wants and desires, but real goals…not the goals that you spout of like rhetoric because you know how to impress, but what’s really in your heart. Whatever moment  you are in, LIVE IT! LIVE THAT MOMENT OUTLOUD AND ON PURPOSE DRÉA!  If you’re sad be sad. Feel it without regret. When you’re happy be happy! Be ecstatic. Be unapologetically alive. Buy those shoes because they are hawt to death!
Oh and get on that treadmill, not because you have to or anything but because you really do feel good when you do it.
And those little secrets you’ve been keeping. Those are cool as fuck. I like those…scratch that I LOVE THOSE! Enjoy them and know that just like the secrets have said “it’s no body’s business but ours.” 
Those people were that said you share too much are right. Not because they were right, you don’t share too much in the sense they mean, but you share too much in the sense that you keep nothing for yourself. You give away all that you have to give and leave nothing for yourself. Stop that.  Keep something in reserve. Some energy stashed away like a coveted candy, imported from the fartherest reaches of the realms. Hell girl, there is a chocolate AND a pork shortage. BE GREEDY!  Be greedy with yourself, if only just a little bit. 
Be a hermit, no code black warning systems just ghost.
Bask in the love of Alpha/Prime . MonaLisa smile at the thought of people trying to figure that out and how wrong they are going to be because you like to tease and you know it.
There are so many things that I could say to us today, some of them I’m not ready to put on a page for the world to see let alone acknowledge between you and me o’girl, but you know what’s in our heart.
I leave you with this thought, this wish, this prayer:
Be Happy Dréa, you deserve it.

Happy 34th Birthday,
You, Me, Us.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Confessions of a Future Former Fat Female

Confessions a future former fat female…

Day one:
Well, its not really day one. I think day one is the day that you decide that enough is enough, that it is finally time to do SOMETHING.  But today is day one of the new diet life style change.  AKA don't eat that eat this.

Thanks to Zac Smith here is the plan: I'm changing  the way I eat (which means going from one or two meals a day to 6 portion controlled meals spread out through the day)  and getting active (45 mins of cardio before meal one). The menu is set for the next 4-8 weeks. Hopefully by the half way point it will be habit AND I will be in the gym regularly.

Before I tell you how it’s going let me list out my fears. Why list them? A good friend told me that if you speak your fears out loud you can analyze and confront them more easily.
So here they are:

*Failure… I’m afraid to fail… I've said that I was going to do this many times before. Hell, I think I've blogged about it. And I've failed.  Not only did I fail, I failed in the most spectacular of ways. I gave up. I didn't have the motivation to really do it.  I didn't have the back bone to keep going when I knew I should. Sometimes I even took a small measure of success (a lost inch or pound) as  a reason to stop.

*Floppy skin: Don’t laugh. I have a fear of excess skin. Losing weight (thanks biggest looser and like shows for scaring me) especially a rapid weight loss CAN leave behind excess skin. I don’t know about anyone else but my insurance doesn't cover that!  Where am I gonna put that? (OK, you can laugh…I laugh ((albeit nervously)) it’s a silly fear. I’m still scared of it.

*Judgment:  Gyms theoretically are for people who are trying to get fit. But we all know there is a sense of dread that every future former fat person has about working out in public spaces. We already know we are fat and out of shape and we imagine that every person who is pumping iron or spinning their legs like the cast of Scooby Doo™  or bending into impossible yoga poses with perfect form is staring at us, judging us.  Most of them aren’t. Some of them are former fat people. Some of them are future fat people. How many times have we seen pictures of people trying to get in shape on social media as the butt of jokes? No one wants that for themselves. 

*Bland boring food:  dude, need I say more. I’m short fat and southern. I’m a self proclaimed foodie. I not only like to eat/taste. I like to cook it. I’ve know all year I was going to get to a point where I didn’t want to be fat. Every time I started to join a gym or contact a nutritionist; I ate a donut to appease my insulted taste buds and wipe the thought from my memory. I know I’ll eventually get back to the point where I can eat whatever I want (within portion controlled reason), it’s the giving it up for now(insert blue man groups I’m blue and come to the revelation that he says  “if I were green I would die”) that has me sad.

OK so that’s some of what I’m scared of,  but what I’m even more afraid of is not getting healthy. I don’t mind dying but I’m not ready to go yet. And I definitely don’t want to go for keeling over trying to walk through the mall or grocery store or worse watching TV on my couch.

I’m afraid of being 5’7 (ish) and having measurements that read 56-54-57. I don’t feel like a brick house. Hell, I don’t even feel like a barn.  I feel like an over inflated beach ball.  Don’t get me wrong, I know that I’m cute. I know I can dress for my body shape and turn heads in a positive light. I know that my husband loves every dip and curve, but I DON’T love it anymore.  I tolerate it because the options are tolerating it or change it. I’m ready to change it.

I want to be able to do a full 45 minutes on the tread mill.  What’s more I want to do it without stopping. Without crying because I have to slow the program down. Without nearly flying off the back and making Dréa shaped holes in the wall.

So today is day one. I only managed 20 minutes on the treadmill this morning, but that’s 20 minutes I haven’t done in years. I don’t like quinoa flakes and almond milk. Not even with Honey. But I’m determined to go choke them down (along with vinegar water) because if choking them down means I can get to be LESS of me, then lets do this.

So here are the stats…( I don’t know when I’ll up date them).
Dréa Riley
Age 33(almost 34)
Height 5’7”(ish)
Weight 310 (actually the scale said less yesterday but let’s just be safe)
Bust 56”
Waist 54”
Hips 57”

Thighs 34”


 (this is me excited to be smaller)   If you're interested in getting Zac's help you should check him out at  Other wise I'll see you guys for an update next month on my 34th Birthday!

*DISCLAIMERS: I don't know Zac Personally. I searched through all the hotties that I'm exposed to on FB and via my writer friends and bam there he was. I liked his story. I liked the fact that he gives zero fucks and isn't afraid to say so.  I haven't purchased a personalized work out plan.  Because I'm a realist. I gotta be able to MOVE before I can jump into circuits and reps and sets and all that lingo. That's my goal for my birthday next month: to have the ability and energy to be in the gym regularly with a customized plan of action as well as meal plans. For now, he customized a meal plan for me and suggested I get started getting off my ass ( he didn't say it that way. he was actually really sweet and said " I want you to make a big effort to get more active and start going for walks. Walking the dog or anything subconsciously will be burning calories. For maximum results when shredding body fat, I suggest doing cardiovascular exercise upon waking up without eating meal 1. This is called fasted cardio. I advise you do this! ") and get active.   I'm going for it.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

October isn't just about awareness

every year I repost this short that i wrote... somewhere... hoping that where ever it randomly falls, someone finds it and finds meaning..... this years i'm blasting it from ever blog i can....

It was nearly Christmas. You could smell the holiday in the air. Frost

and snow covered everything outside and inside the house was filled with

tantalizing aromas of ham slow roasting with a honey glaze. The fire was

bright and cackling and all the traditional decorations for Christmas were

artfully placed by three well meaning, if over excited bundles of joy. One

would expect to hear the children clamering down the hallway, glasses or

mugs clicking in toast, laugter and conversation. Yes, thats what one would

expect, but the opposite was true. The room was warm but silent, save for the

occasional ruffle of clothing or sniffle as someone held back tears.

Tomas sat with their youngest son Graham on his lap. He stared in wonder at

the curly brown head. How could they have just celebrated his arrival here

and then today be mourning the loss of his Godmother. As the last of the

guest walked out the front door, He raised his head to look at his wife of 10

years. Eloise was beautiful to him, even in her mourning, she radiated love

and warmth. Tomas knew she was missing her close friend, but she'd opened her

arms and their home to Angeline's family and other friends. She made herself

their center, their port of call during this harsh time, when one should have

been emersed in festivaties. Angeline and Elois had lived life like twins.

Adventures, love all of it had been intertwined. It had been devasting to

both women when Angie had learned too late she'd had breast cancer. Elois had

raged. How could someone so smart, so intellegent not have regular check ups.

But Angie had lived life for the next rush. Moving from one epic adventure to

the other, with out ever having so much as a common cold. When she'd began

to fill sick and not have any strength, she and Eloise argued nightly about

her need to go to the doctor. She'd been over to visit with the kids when she

passed out in the kitchen. Little Graham had run to his brothers, insisting

the twins help he with his angel. THe older boys thought he'd ment the angel

for the christmas tree. At six the twins thought they were grown and had

decided they could replace the ornament theirselves. When they went to the

kitchen to get a chair on which to stand, they found the fallen angel that

had graham in tears. They'd dialed 911 and then called Tomas home explaining

that Auntie Angel was sleeping on the floor in the kitchen and their cookies

were burning in the oven. Here they were on the eve of Christmas eve. Missing

one of the Key elements of the season. Of their lives. The cancer that had

resided in Angeline's breast had been slowly spreading through out her body.

Her sudden decline in health was the result of it taking over the last of

her organs. The doctors had been powerless to save her. Any treatment would

only add to her agonizing pain. The doctors had taken a moment to speak with

each female present at the hospital, ensuring them that if they but only test

regularly most their lives could be saved. Had Angeline gone to any of the

hundreds of appointments she'd scheduled then cancelled her life may have

been spared. But what ifs adn should haves were pointless.

 Rising slowly he walked with Graham toward's Eloise and wrapped her into his

arms with their son. Standing for a moment he inhaled, just relishing this

time, burning it into his memory and willing Elois to do so as well.

"Hey Alice, lets put this little mouse to bed and have a rest, twiddle dee

and dum will be home tomorrow and it will be full steam ahead"

He guided his love down the hall, stopping briefly to put Graham to bed.

Removing his miniture suit he smiled as the child curled into his side.

Graham cuddled the teddy bear that Angeline had just given him for his

birthday and snuffled out a little sigh. Elois pulled the blankets up over

the baby and ran her finger through his curls. Love and sadness poured from

her eyes.

Arm and arm Tomas and Eloise made their way down the hall to their room. Once

inside Tomas sat Elois on the edge of the bed and slowly removed her clothes.

As he removed each shoe he massaged her stocking covered feet, before easing

the dark nylons offer her legs and wadding them up. He had Elois stand before

him and he lifted the simple black sheath dress over head and tossed it too

onto the floor. He made short work of her black bra then wrapped her his

flannel pajama top. Pushing slightly he guided her back on to the bed, then

gathered her discarded clothes and tossed them into the hamper. Tomas changed

into his own pajamas and tee shirt before starting the fire in their hearth

and climbing into bed..

As soon as he settled back against the head board Eloise climbed into his lap

and wiggled her way between his legs with her back to his front. Once she

was settled she leaned her dark head back against his shoulder and nuzzled

her nose into the side of his neck. They sat that way gazing into the flames.

Each reflecting on thier life and their blessings.

 After a time Eloise began to open the button on the pajama top. She kept

her gaze forward so she didnt' see the questioning look one Tomas's face.

When she had every button undone, she placed her hands on Tomas's and slowly

brought them up her torso to rest inside the shirt on her breast. Once his

hands where in place, she raised her arms futher over her head and then

linked her fingers behind Tomas's neck. At this angle her breast were thrust

out futher into Tomas's hands. Understanding came slowly, but it came and

Tomas began to slowly move his fingers over her velvety coal skin. He touched

her with reverance and love, but he touched her slowly and firmly, relearning

the curves of her breast. The breast that had not only nursed and comforted

his sons, but himself. He commited the weight and shape to his mind, to the

very molecular make up of his fingers and palms. He spent what cold have been

hours with his eyes closed and his fingers molding and shaping the heavy

flesh. Finaly when, he felt Eloise release her linked hands and bring her

arms down. He stopped his ministrations and wrapped her in his arms. Turning

slowly, Tomas rolled them to one side and tucked her in close to his body.

FInally they slept

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Its really not that complicated...its just ...complicated

In the interest of holding myself accountable...not hiding from the work that needs to be done...I thought I'd blog my way through this process.

If you follow The Drea and Milana Show on blogtalk, you alread know that periodically we have the Prestess Brandi Auset on.  She always brings us some sort of  knowldege and enlightenment.

I wont get into a heavy details about who she is, what she does and our personal history, you can find all that here WWW.BRANDIAUSET.COM  (well everything except the story of Brandi and I).  But I will say that she is one of the most influential people in my spiritual journey. Not just because of her...skills, but her abilty to relate to me and make me relate to myself. 
I can bull shit a lot of people, but I can't bullshit Brandi. And unlike others who are able to see through whatever guises I might use, Brandi will only let me go so far before she calls me out and challanges me on myself.
She'll probably challenge me on why i felt compelled to blog this way. I wish I could say the answer is I dunno. Which if that was honestly the answer she'd say ok.  But hte truth is...I guess I want to work this thing out. I want to  get passed whatever/whomever is holding me back.  I need to honestly get out of my own way.  Blogging it out is multifaceted... i can work my way through it, be all braggadocio in showing the world ( and in turn myself) that I can do this ( and hide behind that bravodo because I really am scared to admit...the truth.) 

Suddenly I don't want to talk about this... because I think, no I know i've just admitted a part of the truth...not the whole truth and that hurts and I'm scared of it and i don't want to do this right now.  I know i need to, but I...hurt so I'm not. Not right now...maybe tomorrow.  You no what, Brandi said I didn't have to hound myself to have the answer and this is a total cop out, but I'm taking it.  I Don't ....Shit...I haven't even typed out the question she gave me to work on and I'm defensive and angry and ready to i'm not going to answer shit...i'm going to ..just go