What a holiday!

The kids came downstairs to this sight. Their glimmering eyes were worth all the preparation.... Santa-ette ate the cookies and drank the milk. I am going to miss this when they no longer believe in the jolly red man.

This holiday was so busy. The past week I was running almost nonstop. I am looking forward to a good calm-down! I have many hopes for 2008. When I get home tonight from another trip to the airport to pick up friends, I hope to get somethings that have been held captive in my mind out on this virtual pad of paper. I wonder why when I just said "virtual pad of paper" I had a vision of writing from a hotel room. LOL. Who knows!

Companions

Did I ever mention I love my cat?

The Sweet Life

I am a mom. Mom. Mother. Mommy.. Those are the names I hear most called out to me than any other throughout my day. I do get Hollie and Holz, the vey occasional Hollie-bear or Hollie-bo-Bollie and the ever endearing Sweety, Honey and Baby far less than I wish for right now. But, none-the-less the majority of the day.. it's Mommy. I'll tell you, this is not a bad thing at all. There are many other names I would not like to be referred as. However, along with that name comes so many different emotions, actions and responsibilities. Having been doing this for over 7 years now I can safely say that there has not been any other element in my life that has been such an intense experience. Such a double sided ride. They are simultaneously my activity and lack there of, my stress and my stress relievers, what makes me fall to pieces and what makes my pieces stick together. I am their world.. and they are mine. There are many events and situations, hobbies and friends that I will participate in and with, they are the forefront and basis for most all of my reasoning. I have been careful to not lose myself. I am still a very raw and personal human being with love, lust, likes and her own twitterpated emotions. In fact, I think being a mom has kicked all of who I am into high gear throughout the years.

All of this thought was sparked today with my trip to the grocery store. I can find something interesting in almost every road I travel on. This road was one that led into the psyche of other moms. I'm not sure what was in the air today but it seemed as though all moms with children in their shopping carts were off the deep end just a tad. Granted, the one mom in the store on a typical day appearing a tad off her rocker would naturally be me but today, the tables were turned. My inherantly active and mischevious child was sitting calmly in the seat designed for those particular rugrats talking to me about my list. Maybe it was the time of day.. whatever it was, I must repeat it! I was moseying aroung the holiday section of the store when I heard a lady making an odd voice in the aisle next to me. As she rounds the corner.. she has two little blonde haired girls in the cart and she is talking. Not to her kids directly but to her.. and answering herself as if she were her kids in a "kid tone." I had the biggest confused internal chuckle I have EVER belted. Her conversation went like this... "I will not drive my mommy crazy. Repeat it. Say, I will not drive my mommy crazy. That's right." then in her mock kid voice to herself "Yes, mommy I will not drive you crazy." "Good then........"

Okay yah... I must say dealing with my children has made me a little more insane than I previously had been in life. Especially when I am dealing with them all alone for over a year straight. No help on a day to day routine. I suspect being in this town and with their actions... these women are in the exact same boat as I. I have been driven crazy... but not to the point of conversing with myself, I don't think. Definately not in public. My dad asked me while he was visiting if I ever felt I have had enough and just couldn't take it anymore. I replied with a No... I always know I can take it. That doesn't mean I won't throw my hands in the air and say someone, please help me! Although, for those of you who know me.. know it's so hard for me to ask. I get unbelievably stressed... I have times where I just want to lock myself in my room for several moments and do nothing. Yet, even in those times of insanity... I still know I can handle it and do it with a smile because there are far worse things in life.. these stresses are temporary and will most likely be followed with the most precious kisses. Which leads me to my next person...... I'm travelling down the cheese section when I hear this child tell his mom that he sometimes doesn't want what she was holding and she bluntly said "Well, sometimes I don't want to be a mom." WHAT?!?! Good lord, even with all I have bearing down on me... I would never say that to my own child let alone think it. This person has a hard time looking outside the box for answers.

So, I am dedicating today... to the sweet life of a child. Even though they are my one source that completely drive me up the wall at times. I'm going to bake cookies with mine tonight and sit and watch a movie with them. Because honestly without them my life would lack the frosting on my cupcakes.

There's a certain something....

about being outside in chilly weather with friends, a firepit and booze ;)

Cornflake Girl

Yah, it's a Tori Amos song. It's also what Jase called me now and again because I was from the land of corn... Iowa. I left there before this picture was taken in Oklahoma. The only experience with my birth state comes from visiting my grandparents. Getting lost in their big farm houses and basements. When you think of fond childhood memories... the visions of a little Hollie running through a farm and field with her cousins and playing hide and seek in what felt like the biggest houses to the imagination. Watching my grandma cook dinner and always having a cookie at my available fingertips... home made, no doubt. There were aunts and uncles, cousins and their friends. There were the old cars and toys that were uniquely just for the trips to see family. I went back this Thanksgiving weekend. Back for the first time since my Grandma K passed away when I was 10... it's been nearly 20 years. I forgot the feel of those small towns. Almost village-like. The little grocery stores and the kids who look like they are 13 bagging your food... and bringing it out to your car. I was left with the question... why oh why are all midwest farm houses white??? I did not see a single one that wasn't. The houses white, the barns red. Remind me to google that!

After the long drive... the instant we entered there was snow on the ground. I forgot how absurdly cold it was there at this time of year. It's harsh. Bordering Minnesota I wanted to start talking like I was from Sweden. We stayed in most of the time. Stepping into my Grandma's little house (she sold the big house on the farm after my grandpa died when I was 6) I had never been to this one. I figured there would be no memories there. I was proved wrong! Almost every inch of her walls were covered with pictures. There were pictures of me from birth on up... pictures of my brother I haven't seen since I was a child. There was green shag carpet and a little television. There were the crocheted items throughout the house. There were still cookies at every available fingertip... if not more. Of course, there was my grandma. She was smaller and frailer... she couldn't walk well and she forgot alot. But... to her, I was still her "little Hollie" (being the youngest of ALL of the cousins) and "oh so special" just like 20 years ago. It was wonderful feeling like a kid to your grandma... there were moments in her gentle embrace I felt as if I was that big brown eyed blonde girl with pigtails holding a very special gift from her grandma. She loved the sound of them playing. Her smile was illuminating. This time, the gift I was holding was the gift of my own children sharing in her love.

I am so pleased we went... and I am so pleased to have spent the holiday with loved ones and the spirit of the Iowa I knew as a child.

Traditions

I'm a stickler for them. Here's me... celebrating Jason's life on the anniversary of his death. Keeping the memory alive and vibrant by physically manifesting the little characteristics and likes of him. So, here.. I have a clove in my mouth. The smell and instant reminder of his uniqueness and inability to meld into the crowd. They make the kind I get in a marble color now rather than all black. Traditionally, the beer in my hand would be a Guiness but regretfully I can not handle that thick motor oil. So, I compromised with something oh so yummy. He would want me to... make my own rules. I clanked a bottle with a friend and toasted a hearty Cheers to Jase.

It's Thursday. I'm cleaning... slowly. I need this place clean because my parents are coming to town. I don't know why I can not muster up the desire to work harder.

I've been thinking alot. Who I am, what I have become. Decisions I have made and should make. Right now, I feel so solid in my character. So strong as a person. So full in my heart. I will elaborate more on the blessings and curses that I am currently going through on these relevations at a later time. For right now, I am going to play with my adorable son, get the mail and stay warm because it is CHILLY!

November 14, 2002

5 years ago... this is the only clip of news I see on the internet left today....

Cpl. Jason D. Fisher, 27, of Thousand Oaks, Calif., and Pfc. Joseph P. Favorito III, 20, of Higgins Lake, Mich.,

Fisher and Favorito died Nov. 14 after an M1A1 Abrams tank ran over them during a pre-dawn raid at the Joint Readiness Training Center, Fort Polk, La. Both soldiers were from Fort Campbell, Ky.

This day threw everything we new and understood about life out the window. How could it happen? Why? Why? We have never found that answer. We can only speculate. We have grown leaps and bounds from this day. There will never ever and I can say that with extreme honesty be another man like him, ever. He was our brother and he was our best friend. At our side. For some reason, the one thought that sticks out about him today is the day we told him he was going to be an Uncle. The pride in his face was illuminating.

The building in which housed his funeral is now a lazer tag place. Odd. I know. But sitting outside of that building after seeing him there.... I remember the words to the song Bother by Stone Sour it was the only thing that put words to the empty look and place in our hearts that laid in. I even remember hearing it over and over at that time.

So sick and tired...

I just want to scream.

Miscommunication. Tension. Over-thinking. Under-slept. Exasperated. Expectations. Loneliness. Over-worked. Under-paid. Worry. Fear. Stress. Nerves. Sick. Tired. Sick. Tired.

Calm serenity

Really all I have to say about that. This state is beautiful.

Crayons in my box....

Hollie in the raw....


I've never thought of myself as a needy girl. In fact, most of the time I am pretty content. I am not high maintenance. I don't need all the finer things in life. For the most part, I'm a natural being who walks barefoot on the grass. I adapt to my situations extremely well and have been called a "free spirit." If you're my friend and even if you're not, you do not have to worry about impressing me. I don't feel I am intimidating, in fact, I personally feel that my non-judgemental nature makes me extremely approachable. It hasn't kicked me in the ass yet. I appreciate you for who you are and if I don't agree with your stance.. I learn from you. I am 28 years old and my brain is still as absorbant as ever. I take in my surroundings.. I pick what I like, apply it to myself and chuck the rest.




I decided to make this new blog to regain a fresh start in looking at myself. Stepping back and observing the content and composure of your existence once in a while is good for your soul. There are many colors that make up exactly who I am. Each with their own purpose and hue. Sometimes it's as if a child has taken them all out and drawn over and over with my many colors until they are nothing but a blob of incoherant blah. It helps to sift through the box and take each color out of it's appropriate spot, drawing a single line and observing the beauty of that particular shade of me. Perhaps, taking a couple different colors and melding them together to create a new shade of thought. That's all what this is about.