Category Archives: Holidays

Home alone for the holidays

​There was only a short moment of video time to light the candles on the first night of Chanukah. There were no little voices on Christmas morning. No bright eyes or happy smiles to delight in the joy that Santa brought. My soul is missing their sweet faces. My heart is aching for them. Hours after I woke up I heard them for a few brief minutes. I tried to pile on the love as they distracted lyrics told me of all the joy he brought while they were there. Over a hundred miles away. 

I try to take solace in the fact that in two days they will be back in my arms. That we will still celebrate and it is only a day we missed not the spirit of the season. But I won’t lie, it’s not the same. To spend so much time raising to wonderful, amazing children and not be able to partake in their excitement hurts to the core. To have to split their lives in two, though logical is hard. And I want them to experience both sides of their parentage. I want them to know they are loved all over. I want them to know how many lives their being alive touches. But selfishly, I want them all for myself. They are my joy, my world and the light of my life. I am so proud to be their Mama. And this holiday season, this empty home has been hard on the heart. I can’t wait for them to come home.

Gentle Words

I used my words harshly today. I didn’t mean to, it was just the way they came out. I admonished instead of explaining. I scolded instead of entertaining the idea that the meaning of what was said was misunderstood. In brought down instead of listing up. I sent him off to school with out a smile on his face and now I feel a profound sense of guilt.

As a parent I know that it is easier to jump in at any moment and criticize instead of taking the time to understand. You get caught up in what is going on that instead of reaching out and finding the child within yourself you look at it at without taking the time to break it down as if you were the child yourself. It is one of our biggest fats. It rips our children to shreds as it can tear apart their small psyches. I try to not jump onto the bandwagon but sometimes I slip, this morning was one of those times.

I find it lately, specially during this time of year I get so caught up in my own head that I forget my mood effects theirs. They want my attention and love and I am just looking for an escape from the memory of yesteryear. I have not been paying the best attention to the world around me. But they are my world. I need to pull myself out of this funk. I need to put my priorities back in line. Catch up on what counts. Write more, sleep less. Stop letting the memories burden me and really just enjoy the now. Speak gently and let those snap judgements fall away. Later I’ll apologize for my harsh words and though I know I’ll be forgiven I hope that I didn’t leave a permanent mark. 

Be kind to yourself and to others

Xoxo

I’m Feeling 33!!!

Looks like we made it. And by we I mean me. I have realized that I talk about myself in the plural. I have been doing it for quite a while now, it was normal because I was always talking about the kids and I usually had a partner to speak of. Now…not so much, but still when it comes to the kids I talk about what we do, what decisions we have made…and by we I mean me. I suppose it works the I am Mommy and Daddy, I make all the decisions that both parents would make on a daily basis and I do think that Supermom deserves the title of the universal WE.

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So today…33…thats FUCKING AWESOME! I am totally stoked to be 33. And there are a few reasons why. More than a few reasons, but the reasons I choose to talk about most are this. 33 is an AWESOME number. It is my favorite number twice in a row, there has to be something to that. 32 was a helluvah year, happy and sad, the longest year of my life and now…it’s over. I have taken the steps, done the therapy, cleaned out the closets, breathed deeply, talked it over, thought it out and as a good friend of mine, named Pumba, told me “put my behind in the past”. I have taken everything that has happened and observed it and let it go, floating on some fucking leaf like they told me to and waved goodbye to it. Will I have memories, sure but you know what, I am free of the burden they carry now. 33 marks a turning point in my life. Also, as per my cards being read, 33 is going to be a great year as long as I trust in those around me, continue to do great things and don’t let the past get me down. So there you have it.

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So far, since I have gotten up this morning, I have been reminded of how much I am loved by those people in my life. I have gotten ready for my best friends wedding at the end of the week. I have had the most amazing food with my amazing family. I have been sung to by people that made my heart smile. My kids have astonished me with thier intelligence, love and humor. I have seen a movie that tickled me in a way I haven’t been in forever and I got to share it with a whole new generation.

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33 kicked off quite magically, the days to come may not be easy, they may cause heartache or pain but you know what? I will get through them, I will make it. I am strong and THIS is MY year!

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Mother’s Day

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“Mama, I made you breakfast!”

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Bleary eyed and very aware of a strong scent of ranch dressing I glance at my cell phone. It’s 7:03am…My sprite has made me a cheesy ranch wrap for breakfast. I hug him with all my might, trade him for a granola bar, glass of milk and tell him I’ll eat it for lunch. Then we snuggle with the Pixie who is still half asleep perpendicular to me. I don’t know how he wriggled his way from between us but he did.

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The day commences with a nap, a gorgeous plant, who is affectionately named Spengler, who I am NOT allowed to take care of because and I quote “You are a danger to nature”.

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Gorgeous pictures, cards and a teeny book all made by the Pixie. Then out the door we go.

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We wave to all the people waiting for the Mother’s Day trucks on the side of the highway, feeling like stars, and head into see Civil War. HOLY FUCK IT’S AMAZING!!!! Pixie fell asleep towards the end but the Sprite and I must see it again. Then it’s home again.

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Some downtime, Once Upon a Time, bedtime, Game of Thrones and here we are. There were tears shed. Tears for those I lost and missed  tears for those that usually call but didn’t and tears because the Three Musketeers all felt like a piece of their family was missing today. But we survived it and the day was so very special.

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I hope you all had a sparkly Mother’s Day

Shaye
Xoxo

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This is NOT a Love Story

The first of many books I stated, let me know what you think

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This is NOT a love story! And what I mean by that is that this is some mushy gushy story about love triangles, about some guy or girl shaped my world or any of that nonsense. Though if I really think about it those aspects are in there. However, this is NOT a love story. I will not let you categorize it as such, much like Disney categorized Frozen as a sisters story when it WAS a love story. This, at least I think is more of a suspense thriller, but most people would disagree…Granted most people can’t see inside my brain. Hell I can’t even see inside my brain. Ok off track here a little bit. Anyway, now that we are clear what this isn’t, let me tell you what this is.
This is MY story; yeah get your chuckles out now. I know what most of you think of me, even some hell probably some of those who I’ve chatted up in the grocery store line. I know what you’re thinking. And no, I am not a conspiracy theorist or any of that nonsense, I just know what mask I where when and how people judge me in relation t such. Hell, I’ve burned some of those masks years ago and people still remember them. They are seared so hotly into people’s brains that I will never be who I am today but always who I used to be. So, this is a story without the mask, or at least I hope I can be brilliant honest and make it through. This is the story I should have typed a thousand times in a thousand different ways and I didn’t…
I have a lot of good excuses why I didn’t, but nothing that really gets me out of it. I have 5 fucking stories on my computer, 5! And they each have at least 2 chapters…One of them even had a PROLIGUE! And they are genuine stories that I hope to finish someday, but I can’t put my heart back in the place it was when I was writing them, does that make sense? Ok so by now you know that in person I have many masks, I make a lot of excuses and totally judge books (and movies) by their cover (and tag lines…see first paragraph). Let’s add to the stack shall we? I often go off on tangents that no one can follow (be prepared), I can be very sexual and potty mouthed, and sometimes I just out and out lie…Granted I think it’s more of a retelling of the story in a more fanciful fashion but when push comes to shove, I lie. If you have to ask why at this point I would tell you because I like to. See I told you a suspense thriller would be more my story.
So here I am baring my soul, to the world. Or at least I hope to. In this story that is not about love, though there is love in it. A story full of stories, full of unheard truths and confessions. Maybe I’m repenting for some bad shit I did in a past life, but all I got from all the oogie boogies down in New Orleans where that something really bad happened in a past life but they couldn’t tell me. I think I am writing my story because it is time, or that I am running out of time. No I am not suicidal, I am literally running out of time, I was supposed to write 50,000 words by the month of December and as of right now my word count is 607. I think if I can pound out 50,000 words in two days I would be incredible proud of myself but incredibly worn out. But I made a promise to someone in New Orleans that I would finish a book by the beginning of this year and I broke that promise. I hate breaking promises. So now it’s time to promise myself I will finally finish what I have started. For once in my life have something to look back on and say hey you…look at that, not only do you make beautiful kids, bake a mean apple pies and have a gay harem that puts the world to shame…but you wrote a fucken book. Go team you.
Now that I have gotten a minor introduction out of the way I guess we should start with my childhood right? I don’t have a lot of memories as a kid, but I have flashes of them, if that makes sense. I look through photo albums and I know faces and names and not a lot of details. Every once in a while a very clear memory will pop up in there and I will blurt it out, but those memories are so sporadic, sometimes I wish they would either stay or go away completely.
©S.R.Gray 2016

Back to the blogging world

I have been unually quiet lately, nothing to do with anything except for me being a shut in. I’ve facebooked, which you should all follow me on because my FB on have 62 followers and makes me a sad panda. No really, it’s just easier to ramble on FB when I am not where my computer is.

Granted I haven’t had much time for rambling, my brain has been too preoccupied with other things. Like the fact that this morning I woke up with a face full of chocolate, my hair full of chocolate, surrounded by truffle wrappers and in need of a huge glass of milk.

No but really, sick kiddos, broken Charming, and I have this program on that is supposed to be funy but she is really  not that hilarious, I am just not in the mood. Yesterday we did an almost 8 hour round trip to nyc to see my mother and that part of my family. That means Mom, her so, brother and his wifey and her folkd and other little brother. The kids were so overwhelmed with presents that I thought they were going to fall apart all over again. Little man started to stim while staring at the yule long and TV and Pixie kept random crying.

Christmas morning however, left me in tears. A family Christmas, for the first time ever. We all laughed and loved our gifts but most of all enjoying being with eachother. Unfortunatly on our way home from NYC only having an hour and a half of sleep and getting up at 530am did not o us well. Charming as wonderfully careful and got us all home safe.

This chick is seriously trying to ne margeret cho and it is pising me off.

Changed it to a documentary about murder, now I feel better.Is it weird I like true crime drama because a lot of people seem to think it’s weird

Is it weird I like true crime drama because a lot of people seem to think it’s weird. I have a thing for true crime, I love knwing what happened, I love knowing who dun it and wy. I a psychologically major. I love getting into peoles heads.

I think that is sometimes why people think that I am either not listening or don’t care. Because I am snalysing them or trying to figure out what is going in. …

This is probably the eng of the blog because no I am wrapped up in murder…atching it ot commiting it sillies (bt really I don’t feel good and I think I brought something home from my mothers house. I promise pictures and stories later.

We Have Apples

So there is this wonderful mental illness blog that I follow by Rachel Griffin called We Have Apples. A little bit ago she had put up a post asking for pictures, both uplifting and at our times of trouble to put in a music video for a project she is doing. Let me give it to yo in her own words (it pasting it from her site)

“As a lot of you know, I’m a singer/songwriter in New York City with a fabulous life…. and a mental illness! (the two can go together! And errr.. it wasn’t always that way! LOL) I am so passionate about mental health awareness, ending the stigma, and connecting with other warriors like you! I am also writing a musical about these topics.More about the mental health musical I’m writing, We Have Apples, can be found on the website. You can also hear songs there. (But the song for this video is not released, yet- You’ll be the first to hear it, though!) If you want, you can sign up for the show’s mailing list to be kept posted on the development!:)

I was just selected as a Dramatists Guild Fellow, which means this year I will be working on developing We Have Apples with Broadway professionals!

More about my career as a singer/songwriter at: Rachel Griffin Website. This info I’m giving is not because I want to brag, but I want to tell you a little about my career so you know this song and video we are going to make will be high quality and could do very well! 🙂 I’ve won two National songwriting contests, recently wrote a song for an internal Macy’s campaign, and I have a publishing deal for a few of my pop songs.”

Well I participated in this as mental health is a very important subject to me….Obviously. I am keeping my fingers crossed that I will get to work it Rachel in the future. But here it is…..My debut in a music video….Pass and share it is so important!!!!

The Drop Spot

Also know as The Meeting Place, The Crossroads, The place where you HAVE to play nice or That place we’re courts arrange for you to meet so you don’t kill each other trying to plan.

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Most divorced parents know what I’m talking about. That place where you meet every other week, once a month or whenever your ex decides he wants to be a “Dad” to his offspring.

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Idly you wait, because the last time you were late you got reemed out in front of the kids. So you make it a point to get here early….and inevitably they are half hour to 2 hours late. But you swallow your pride for your kids, throw on a fake smile and even hug the ex goodbye. You don’t hate him persay, he gave you miracle babies, but you don’t like him either.

He tried to keep your kids from you till you came to am agreement. He honored the agreement at first…now it’ll be the first time since July 4th and that was only a few hours. Before that May 28…for a few hours….notice fathers day was skipped.

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I’m not sad or angry anymore, just disappointed. Frustrated. But I was so fortunate to reconnect with an amazing man from my past, whom my kids call Dad. Who treats them like a Daddy should, and treats me like gold. Even through all my triggers.

It makes each drop off a little easier, because I know no matter what happens we have a safe loving enviroment to build out future, write our story, have our faerietale.

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Three Quotes in Three Days 4th of July Edition

So my lovelies…..I was tagged in this lovely challenge by myambivalentexistence . So I shall do this and I believe I have to tag 3 someones each day. I shall tag random darlings on my list! here we go Da UGLY Duckling Every Word You Say and Weathering the Storm you have been challenged.

And in the spirit of the Independence Day here is my quote –

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Yes, yes…How odd an American posting a quote from a movie about a Scottish hero on America’s beloved Fourth of July. Well ya see, here is the thing…Most of me is Scottish, My great grand father was a famous soccer player there, I have a clan a tartan and all that jazz. And I am proud of my heritage, hell I am the only green eyed one in the family. But there is more to this quote than that, it explains everything that life should embody. Taking chances, doing things that you believe i. saying fuck the consequences, I need to do what I believe in. Now I am not talking about crazy things people, I am talking about talking to that one person that make your pulse race, wearing red lipstick just cuz it makes you feel good, buying that bathing suit and not caring if everyone is looking at you or not. Freedom f choice, of expression, being you. Independence of oppression, from being ruled over, from being held doing things we can’t stand behind (in good mind).

Happy Fourth of everyone

Sparkle thoughts

Shaye,

xoxo

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