"...and though she be but little she is fierce."


Gmail me at ccr002

Find me on Twitter at cloudyarecinos

 

Ugh

I’ve been freelancing for months now. I’ve written close to a hundred articles and I’ve never had anything other than glowing reviews. So you can see why the idea of an article being sent back to me kind of bounced off my over-inflated ego. You DARE to send an article BACK?!

It’s the worst feeling. The absolute worst. I want to crawl into a hole and die of shame.

I’m not wholly to blame here. If you send me four articles as models and they’re all science-for-the-non-scientist type of articles, you can’t come back at me with, “your article’s not technical enough.” But still. Rejection. It’s a bastard.

I feel so embarrassed and loser-y.

It’s Tueday. It’s true.

I feel like, with my son, I have finally learned how to love. Not the guarded, watchful love life taught me. But the boundless love like joy that’s drawn out of me, effortless and unwilled. It hits me clean and quick, like a bullet to the heart. My God, I love this boy.

Quick!

I need to come up with 5 more ideas for bicycling articles and my brain is completely tapped out.

Got any ideas?

Thanks ebberbody!

B:  Who’s dis?

Me: That’s Captain America.

B: Who’s dis?

Me: That’s Iron Man.

B: Who’s dis?

Me: That’s Thor.

B:

Me: You like superheroes?

B: Yes.

Me: What’s your favorite superhero?

B: Uuuuh…MINNIE MOUSE!

So. How are you?

  • I got a job writing for an exercise website. Fifteen articles a week. I’m so tired from writing about exercise that I don’t have the energy to exercise.
  • I ordered a marble mocha macchiato from Starbucks this morning and nobody knew how to make it and in all the hubub I forgot to say SOY so this is a ticking time bomb waiting to happen.
  • I don’t know if I’m nice. I do nice things, but am I doing them out of a genuine desire to ease the lives of others or do I just have a deep, consuming need to be liked? I don’t know. I don’t know.
  • I woke up at 5:45 this morning to make pancakes . So if you need me to define love, that’s it. It’s getting out of bed before sunrise because your kid is asking you for pancakes. Love is pancakes.
  • It’s gorgeous out today. I love winter. It’s my favorite. But sunshine and sweaterless days are nice, too.

Once upon a time my brother asked me if I’d ever marry a “garbage man.”

"I don’t know," I answered. "It depends."

A-ha! He knew it! I was shallow. He’d known it all along. I was materialistic. I was a material girl.

Words don’t come easily to me. There’s a disconnect somewhere in the process of turning an emotion into words. It takes time. I have to think and formulate what I want to say. It’s a big reason I don’t participate a whole lot in groups. It’s a big reason I’m a writer.

So I didn’t defend myself. I couldn’t. But years later I’m still having the same argument in my head. Replaying and rehashing it. Years later I say, “Hey, that’s like asking me if I’d marry a politician, or an astronaut, or a millionaire. You can’t ask that because a person isn’t defined that way. So my answer is the same. It depends. What kind of person is he? Is he kind to animals? Does he make me laugh? Does he keep my secrets?”

Every time I have this argument in my head I think about calling my brother up and clearing my name. Maybe I will one day. But I’ve reached the point in my life where I’m not too interested in correcting people’s notions of me so maybe I won’t.

Then again, I’m still thinking about it over a decade later and writing about it so, who knows?

Inspection passed! One step closer to being “ours.”
When I first moved here this snow dusting phenomenon reminded me of sand and it was very disorienting. I kept thinking I was in Key West. (But, you know, colder.)

Inspection passed! One step closer to being “ours.”

When I first moved here this snow dusting phenomenon reminded me of sand and it was very disorienting. I kept thinking I was in Key West. (But, you know, colder.)

My very first Try the World box arrived today. This month’s featured city was Paris. Little man and I sat on our living room floor and ate French jam and French candy and I taught him how to say bonjour.

If Claudia can’t go to the mountain, the mountain gets UPSed to Claudia.

Bittersweet

  • Today was the last day of Brandon’s tumbling classes. It was something, watching him, seeing how far he’s come. When we first started six months ago he would barely participate. He wouldn’t even go in the bounce house without me. Now he sings all the songs, greets kids as they come in the door, barely needs me at all. He’s something, my little man. He’s becoming a person right before my very eyes.
  • Our offer on the house was accepted. So, one hurdle cleared. The closing is not for a couple of months though so aside from browsing the Ikea website I refuse to get excited.
  • Except that I am excited. I really, really am. I want to get a dog for Brandon and paint his room and set up my office. I want to feel like I’m home, not in some transitionary housing situation. I want to bake and decorate and gripe about my neighbors.
  • I don’t want to be pregnant again. I don’t want another baby. I want another child. I want a bigger family. I want more people to love. So Ken and I talked and we’ve decided to put adoption back on the table. Not for some time. Not for at least three years, and even then who knows where we’ll be. But it’s something I want more than I thought I would. I want to adopt a child. I know it will be more difficult in some ways than adopting a baby, but it’s what feels like the best fit for me. For us. But it might not even ever happen so I don’t know why my stomach’s feeling all wobbly already.
See this house? It might be ours in a couple of months. Or it might not be. I’m good with either eventuality. There are ways that I would like for things to go. But I am like the willow. I bow with the wind.
You can’t control things. All you can control is your reaction. We’re in the offer/counter-offer stage right now. Give and take. But even if that works out, there are so many little ways this could still go wrong over the next sixty days.
So I don’t get my hopes up. Which makes me a little sad because I used to get so excited about things.
If it happens it happens. If it doesn’t, that’s good, too.
It sure is a nice house though.

See this house? It might be ours in a couple of months. Or it might not be. I’m good with either eventuality. There are ways that I would like for things to go. But I am like the willow. I bow with the wind.

You can’t control things. All you can control is your reaction. We’re in the offer/counter-offer stage right now. Give and take. But even if that works out, there are so many little ways this could still go wrong over the next sixty days.

So I don’t get my hopes up. Which makes me a little sad because I used to get so excited about things.

If it happens it happens. If it doesn’t, that’s good, too.

It sure is a nice house though.