silenced.

Listen carefully to the words that come out of your mouth, watch cautiously where you step - and be prepared for the road to come to a dead end. I've nothing to say, not a word that makes sense or brings clarification and resolution. Welcome to the dead end.

we're ordinary people.

The air was thick, it left a layer on my skin - I needed the outside. Bundled, and unprepared for the sting of cold on my face - I ventured outside in search of a different feeling. It didn't take me long to realize that the thickness would follow me where ever I placed my body, no matter where I tried to hide. In hindsight, the wide open air just left me feeling even more trapped and fearful. It is almost suffocating sometimes, the air inside these walls. I want so badly to feel like I can control the outcome and that regardless of what continues to happen around me - that I am able to steer the sails of my ship. Failure is always associated with the realization that I can't always decide which way we will sail, what obstacle's will get in the way - where we eventually end up. It doesn't just take me to man the ship - it isn't that easy. The fog is just so dense, so unruly - and I struggle with going in blind. One foot in front of the other, and a confidence in my step. Now if only I could rid my atmosphere of the thickness, and breathe a sigh of relief..

what've you been searching for?

My head is full to the brim of ideas and emotions - but I am still chasing after a place where it can be exposed. I am still wandering around waiting for a room to appear that I can sit, where I am conscious but confident - able to let it free fall out of my mouth and into your lap. I'm getting closer, I can feel it in my bones. You've been so patient, you've been so tired - it's been a long time. The weight of the world on our shoulders, the weight of our choices that follow - it's a lot to carry, it's a lot to hold on to. But it's alright, it feels okay - and somewhere beyond the fog that leaves us blinded to what is in front of us... I know there is a light of some kind. You keep me balanced, and let me explore the uncertainty - even when it is like nails scratching ruthlessly against a chalk board. It's not always easy - it's not always fun... but it is ours, it is strong and will hold. I will never give up on what is true, I will never turn my back on the long road. Hold my hand, kiss my lips, lay with me on cold nights, smile when I'm crying, be honest, tell it to me straight even if it will bring tears, be kind to the insecurities, be strong when I can't be - and in return, I will do the same for you. I know it's not always easy, I know it's not always fair - but together I think we have the ability to move mountains... and at the very least, take down those walls.

a little me

She beams with confidence every time she is faced with a challenge that is past her experience - she shines with independence as she tackles another battle that is beyond what her maturity level should permit. I don't remember what it felt like to get on a school bus and ride away from my mum - what it felt like as I traveled to and from school every day alone, without an adult sitting next to me and monitoring what I was doing. I imagine the bus ride is a very big part of her love of school - the freedom it presents her with, the ability to be her own person without the attachment of a mother, sister, father. She is able to find her own comfort with what she can and cannot do, what is proper and what is not. I still find myself watching for longer than I need as she rides away, wishing I could go with her - that there wasn't a part of her life that didn't involve me. We'll safely call that attachment parenting :) and despite my best efforts, she has grown up - become a little independent thinker, a strong minded human being... a little me.

a place way out back

There is a place, way out back - where no one ever goes. It's secluded and quiet, and extremely beautiful. It's a long trek to get there, and a rough one at that - and perhaps that's why no one ever goes there. I find that a lot of the time, we fear the voyage and don't realize how rewarding the final destination would be if we would just take the plunge and endure the hardships. I wonder when the reward becomes greater than the fear we hold on to so tightly... when the intrigue of the unknown outweighs the lull of the familiar. We have so many journey's to embark on, so many places to discover and explore - and yet, here we are - fearful of the long walk there. What are we so scared of? When did the grasp of "responsibility" hold us back from the joys and exhilaration of adventure? We all have a place, way out back - it's just a matter of taking the time and effort to go and explore... take a risk, a leap of faith - and discover! I carry the weight of my decisions, and am also rewarded by the choices I've made - but it's not an excuse to stop myself from living. It's not an excuse to fear the hike to the place way out back, it should be motivation that regardless of what the journey would throw at me - I would get there, possibly bruised and battered... but wiser, and readier than ever before to take on yet another challenge.

potty mouth.

FUCK.

SHIT.

STUPID.

BULLSHIT.

SHIT FUCK.

rawr!!

productive.

let it snow

The snow falls and a layer of clean and crisp is carpeted over the earth. The world looks new, untouched - free of the pollution and the rot, the garbage and the destruction. It is simple, and fresh - like a brand new ground to walk on. There is something unique about the first snow fall... perhaps its the realization that indeed it is now winter (despite the unseasonably warm temperature's we were having up until a few days ago). Regardless the reason, there is nothing quite like it. Coincidentally the first snow fall landed on the first day of my third trimester. So for me, the snow fall is a reminder of what this winter is bringing us. The snow means, just as the season is changing, so are our lives.

ours

It has been brought to my attention that despite my best effort, my subconscious has a hard time recognizing that I am not alone in this. I am unable to articulate my thoughts and feelings about what my body is going through or what is to come without claiming possession over *our* baby. I seem to forget that although I am the one experiencing the internal changes, everyone around me is experiencing the external - and that although this baby is residing inside of my body, my family is also deeply connected to him/her as well. I think that it's possible after all the uprooting and abandonment the girls have gone through, my subconscious guard is cautious. My possessive nature is also always on guard to make sure that my children cannot come to harms way, regardless of why or by who. It's a natural instinct to be protective, and being cautious just comes with the territory. However, when it is verbalized I do not feel the same possessiveness over this baby - and will happily use the "proper" terminology (ie. "our" and "we"). With time it will just come out naturally, and perhaps I am still adjusting to the whole idea of sharing. I have always been pretty selfish when it comes to sharing anything I care deeply about. Selfish, selfish me.

ninety one

I wonder if we as humans would make the sacrifices that come with pregnancy for any other purpose than to create another life. My body is round, and sore and unusual. My head is full, and I am too tired to create a thought past the basic day-to-day grind of thinking. I have constant heart burn and leg cramps, I wake up throughout the night because my bladder has been weakened to that of an elderly man. My clothes don't fit, my skin is stretched - I am uncomfortable more often than I can find comfort, and I am always hungry. I get pimples constantly, and my hair falls out more readily than ever before. My mood swings are unbearable, and I cry over commercials on TV. My brain is mush, and most of what I say is nonsense. I can't complete a full thought without making some kind of error - and I'm amazed that I've been able to fill up some of this page with words (mind you, I've been writing for 2 hours and this is all I've come up with...) It's all worth it in the end, which is why we push through. None of what I experience right now, will matter when I am cradling my baby and soaking up the pure ecstasy of having a new life in my arms. Bare with me, I am optimistically hoping I will give birth to my mind as well as my child in 13 weeks time. One can hope, right?