I found horror

Not to be exhibitionistic, the worst crime forced upon Americans they hum, but these past years have shaped me into who I currently am. Not to confuse myself with what I shall be, but am not. I want to be that perfect mother who never screws up, who has expertly sidestepped exhibiting her life as from shambles.

But I've been there, raced there even just to see what I'd like,...if. My life was different than it is today, which is recovering from shambles. Got that? My life, in its current state, is recovering from a shamble-filled existence. Portrayed also online, somewhere else.

Won't say where.

More pizza tonight

Not only pepperoni this time, but hickory barbecue chicken w/ sweet onions (grilled). It's nice to have weekends like these, temp was just like it'd be when sipping sweet tea in the south. Met that feeling at Sam's Club where romance novels were begging my attention.

It was a sweet tea summer though, something profitable like that (and efficient). I hear these romance novel writers make the most money, follow the craft exquisitely, and find that range I dare not achieve. Who wants to experience everything?

Not me. Strikes too many nerves over and over. Plus, no cure.

Places and Spaces

I should be playing with Playdough

Instead, I'm escaping from SpongeBob puzzle duty (100 pieces), and basking in the smell of a just baked cake. Pioneer Woman's, of course. No link love today, dahhhlings, as I've more avoiding to do, disappearing, and staying still in hell.

Yes, I said it, bored out of my mind. Six days straight of evil and poisonous answers to everything possible? And this is clearing my conscience wide open, and how!!! It takes courage to excavate all those darkest parts and so I...oops, wait, there's my tea.

Here I am, still avoiding the puzzle though.

They wanted sad faces

Well, it was more her idea than anyone's.

Yup, the dramatic one on the left. What's possible?

Right place, right time

Do you ever feel your life is happening at exactly the pace that is good for your soul? That's how I feel today, and most of last week actually, as I enjoy the bounty of my home life that surrounds me. A well-oiled machine, and I'm also the cog inspector? How righteous is that.

Having less pressure than some, other than smiling graciously as my Americanos are delivered, and feeling blessed that flowers can arrive before Mother's Day, because they often do...well, they did this time. Planning meals, honoring children,...my life's purpose is being fulfilled.

Occasionally I sense dissent in the ranks of my fellow women (not all yet friends) as they compare and contrast each life's achievements. Measuring status or success as if it belonged on a shared scale, instead of simply being predestined, as sure as God's plan.

Studying habit from the outside

I made it full circle, this morning thankfully. Wasn't sure I'd ever arrive with the torment that was plaguing me. Nothing as simple, or complicated, as um, shoot. Can't keep the flow going, but I can see the signs. End of the world actually, so there.

Anyway, the book I reached for that showed me full circle was Streams in the Desert, a gift from a homeschooler. Actually, it was a condolence gift from an ex-friend, to make it more complicated but meaningful.