Thanksgiving

Well here we are, Thanksgiving. I feel like this year, I have more to be thankful for than ever before. i mean.. first of all, there's my family. I love them so much, and they have supported and helped me through so much. Then, obviously, there are my friends. I love those crazy loves so much, i can't even handle it! and then… the babies, and my recovery, and my kitty, and… I'm so blessed.

pinterest poem

i found this on pinterest and copied it exactly as I found it... is it just me or is this heartbreaking? 

The Lost Baby Poem

The time I dropped your almost body down

down to meet the waters under the city

and run one with the sewage to the sea

what did i know about waters rushing back

what did i know about drowning

or being drowned

you would have been born into winter

in the year of the disconnected gas

and no car     we would have made the thin

walk over genesee hill into the canada wind

to watch you slip like ice into strangers' hands

you would have fallen naked as snow into winter

if you were here i could tell you these

and some other things

If i am ever less than a mountain

for your definite brothers and sisters

let the rivers pour over my head

let the sea take me for a spiller

of seas     let black men call me stranger

always    for your never named sake

-Lucille Clifton

senior play

i know this is a total uggo picture of me…. but i just had to share how perfectly precious of charlotte it is! when i first went on stage for the senior play, she stood up on her seat and started shouting "GIGI! GIGI!" it was so loud i could hear her from onstage! and then afterwards we got this adorable picture of  me and her. i love this girl so much!

my lovely ones

my sweet little girl! charlotte talks so much lately, its precious! when she's over, and i go into another room, she calls "GIGI! GIGI!"until I come back in. 

snuggle time!

and look at sweet baby k! she's growing so fast, has TWO teeth, and has been pulling herself up into a standing position!!! I'm so proud of her.

The Scarecrow

She stands like a scarecrow. 

tattered, beaten, unable to move. 

her legs are deep buried in the ground, 

but she herself put them there.

"Just give me my freedom!" she cries. 

but no one is holding her there.

she could dig herself out; dance away…

But she doesn't.

She does not even serve a purpose where she is.

no crows come here. no one eats here.

The people who pass feel anger inside.

they hate her for her uselessness, condemn her for her tears.

But somehow, they are glad of her, too.
She makes them feel useful.
"At least we're not like her," they say..
spiteful things.

Her face wears away, the bones are exposed.
Time has taken its toll.
If you walked past, you could hardly know
that she had once been a real girl.

And there she will always stand..
Dark tear stains running down her featureless face
Remnants of a time long gone
when she could still cry.

and daily she asks herself,
"How did it come to this?"
and wishes she had run home and danced
when she still had the chance.