Holy mother of god. I just stumbled upon my daughter's blogs on her my Space page. Now she's given me access to that apge and in fact, she created my page for me so so that we could both have a My space page.
So i know two things. One: she thinks she doesn't care that I see what she writes on her page, and TWO: she thinks I'll protect myself and avoid prying into stuff I don't want to see.
And she's right on both counts, except for the fact that on occasion, I'm going to look at stuff I don't want to look at. It's that rubber necking effect. You see some god awful wreck and want to turn away but dont' until you've seen the decapitated head on the road.
So tonight I looked. But I dont' think she's had her blogs up before, but maybe she has, some are dated 2007 and 2006 even, so maybe they have been there all along. but some are most current, i can tell by the names and references to events.
Wow what a bunch of mixed feelings are running through me now. My first (but actually last thought but I had it so that it could control all thoughts about what I read) thought was it's her blog and if I read it, I keep my mouth shut. I can mention I read this part or that part and if she wants to talk more, than so be it. But she is a 23 year old adult, a "saver of lives," and she's my peer in a way. If I treat her with respect, then I dont' jump on her like a mother, although i am a mother, her mother, and that is my most worthy, bestest thing in the world. but I'm a differnet kind of mom now.
anyway, I digress. and lord, lord, how she writes just like I do, only much much much better. She is so artistic. So I was right, I do know my daughter. When she told me she was going to nursing school I was shocked. I said, I always pictured you doing something artistic. She was always artistic, I didn't know it about her writing, though. But one of her art teachers, that she could not stand, told me in such a bitchy way that Rachael had talent. The teacher told me as if it pained her to have to admit that a student she could not stand was talented. When I told Rachael, she said, 'what do you expect the teacher to tell you, you're my mother," implying that the teacher was lying to me to suck up.
But aha, she was not wrong. Rachael is very talented. But it's more verbal than visual, i "see" that now. :)
what a poet. What an essayist. OMG. What a way with words. I guess I never knew because she never shared writing with me.
and I always took for granted her intelligence. I just assumed that all kids thought and talked like she did.
I spawned a genius. forgive me for the pride washing over me right now, the warm, hot gush, similar to what begat her, similar to what got her out here. strong, strong, strong emotions. hugely strong. hugely good.
This birth is a, no the connection with God or whatever name she goes by. there were so many other signs (cats, for god's sakes, how can you not believe in "god," when you know cats?) but Rachael was the crowning glory. I still don't know what or why or why. I just know that there is something going on.
Every time someone says that she looks just l ike me, I swell up with that pride thing.
I can't begin to describe what I feel for her.
And I can say it, knowing that I made choices against that very thing earlier in my life. I cannot hold myself cupable fo rthings I cannot undo, especially to people I do not know.
I see now, but I also see that no one else could have seen for me.
I see "Stacie" with her two girls, 14 and 10 and see how she raises those girls and I ask, "would they have been better off to have been angels earlier? or reincarnated into better homes?
not being God, I cannot answer these questions. not being god, I cannot pass judgement, either on myself or on "stacie"

Sept. 1, 2008.
Red text. I may have to change this. I don't know if I can blog in this color, too bloody looking or something.
It's time for a Florida post - Florida 2008!!!
I believe, and Rachael concurs, that this was one of our best trips ever, despite the rain that came everyday until the day we left. But we didn't let that stop us, we went to the beach every day, even when the wind was blowing so hard the sand was scouring our skin and ripping pages out of our books.
And we found some great places to eat and we did some really good shopping. We both got new watches which we designed ourselves, picking out bands and watch faces. We got them at the same place we always get our watches.
We also found a new store, a hippie kind of story where I got magnetic rocks (laugh all you want at me, I can take it) and Rach got this great round mirror on sale. It has rainbow ceramic tile framing. I also got a bag full of shells for three bucks and we got those string bracelets you tie on and wear til they rot off.
Then, what else. Oh Rach got a great vest and I got a great dress, and I bought Mim a purse and hmm, oh yeah, Rachael got great art from this restaurant where we always eat. It used to be called two names, now it just the one name, Funky's grill or something, I"d have to go look, but they have great food. It's kind of a hole in the wall but they have fantastic Italian food and pizzas. Pretty pricey. Dinner for two with drinks and appetizer was over $100.
In addition to eating at the places we like to eat at every time we go - Fudpuckers, Funky's, Angler's, we found some great new places. And re-discovered some old favorites like Harry T's, a place we loved but closed a couple of years ago. This time, I actually thumbed through the guidebooks left in the hotel rooms and I found a blurb about Harry T's opening in 2008. I was so excited, I said look, could it be? Harry T's is back? We called the number and used the GPS in the car to find the place, which is in Destin and back off the main drag. The food was great and we had the bar special Long Island Ice Teas, called Harry Teas, I think, but they were completely different and better than standard Long Island Ice Teas. I have pix of me making a lemon face because they were so tart.
but we had melon and some other kind of fruity drink and both were tangy and tart rather than syrupy sweet, which neither of us likes.
I had a burger and it was huge and great.
Then we found a "new" Fudpuckers" just down the street from our hotel. This was also off the main road, found because we were looking for a place called Helen something. I saw the ad on TV and I liked the name and it sounded like a fun place. When I called for directions the guy was telling me to turn by Fudpuckers and he lost me, directionwise. I was thinking, no Fudpuckers is on hwy 98, past Destin. Come to find out, this was the original Fudpuckers and it was walking distance from our room. It was near the water because it and Helen and several other restaurants all right in there, were beneath the bridge, the Brooks Bridge, which goes into Fort Walton and is the way we come into Okaloosa Island.
I also read about Another Broken Egg cafe in the guidebook, learning that it had been voted best breakfast on the gulf several years running. We have driven by it a hundred times and it never appealed to me, again kind of a low rent looking place, and it closed at 2 p.m., which we didn't know, so I thought it must not be that great because it never looked busy when we drove by, which was always late in the PM.
So we ate there and it was great!!!! Yum, I want some of that food again.
Helen's was pretty good, it was right on the water and we sat outside on a deck. It was a nice sports bar atmosphere and we had a great conversation and we got on the phone and tried to call her dad. at least she did. I don't' get too drunk with her, I don't feel right about getting blasted with my daughter.
Of course, it didn't bother her and then her stupid significant other had to call and confess to "making out," with another person the minute we left (whatever the hell that means. making out to me used to mean kissing and that's it. Is it beyond that now?)
So there was some drama one night, she kept drinking and going out of the room to call the guilty parties and then come back in and wake me up to listen about her angst.
I wish like hell they would break up. Maybe it's coming. maybe this is the beginning of the end.
But I digress.
We also stayed in a hotel we had stayed in about three years ago. At that time, it was undergoing renovations and boy howdy was it a lot nicer this time. It was still cheap, by florida standards a $100 bucks a night (if my stupid pride had not kept me from signing up with AARP, I could have gotten a $10 a night discount. stupid, stupid), but it had a frig and microwave as standard equipment and it was across the street from the beach. We still had to drive the car because there was too much walking for the stuff we carried but it was close, close.
We went to Wal-mart and publix's like we always do. We had stuff in the frig. We bought beer to keep in the room. We also went to a Goodwill that we always saw and always said we should stop there but never did. It was not too good, actually. I got some books but that was it.
The only thing we didn't do was go to any beaches other than the one across the street. That was mostly because we didn't spend much time at the beach even though we went every day.
That was the only disappointing thing, really, it rained every day and was stormy. One day we were in a tornado watch until 10 p.m. after that it went away but i woke up around 4 a.m. because the wind was beating something against the side of the building. It was clanging. I looked outside and palm trees were bending sideways.
I was thinking, WTF. what do we do if there is a tornado, who gets tornadoes in Florida when we are in hurricane country?
I woke Rach up, I made her nervous because I was nervous. We were on the third floor of a seven or eight story building. I was like, what are we going to do? What are we supposed to do? So I decided to go back to bed. When I woke up next, all was well. As it was for the entire trip. We laughed so hard we cried, we ate great food, shopped and still got sun, despite the weather.
I give this Florida vacation trip As and 10 plus.

Hindsight proves foresight is 20-20
In re the last post, I recently called her on a friend's cell phone and she answered. "I can't do nothing," she said. I laughed and said, "nope, you can't do nothing."
We met up at the Strut last night (June 9) and had so much fun. We pissed off our escorts because we got lost in talking to each other.
Then I got funnel caked! from my head to my toe, powdered sugar. The thing was hot and I thought I was getting showered with a cigarette. The running started when someone claimed someone had a gun. We didn't see anything. But when Rachael's friend went into the panic zone and tried to scurry Rach away, she said, "i'm not leaving without my mama."
If she's going to get shot, I'm going to, too."
We're a bit crazy. Unfortunately I passed tihs along to her. Once my dad wanted to take on a small twin engine plane, used to raise funds for some local charity. I absolutely hate flying; I hate being in the big planes where you sort of can't tell you are flying and I sure as hell hate those little fucking planes. Oh my stomach.
but my dad asked if I wanted to come with. I went, my butt checks clinched to tight I could have held enough change in 'em to buy a Sunday New York Times.
But my philosophy was/is: if Rach is going to get in a small plane and it ends up plunging to the ground, at a zillion miles per hour, than I am going with her. I'd rather be on the plane screaming to the earth, than standing on the ground, watching it dive bomb to earth with my child in it.
Same reasoning took over when I took her to the beach. Now, while I love the beach, I am yet again, terrified of the ocean. But every summer we went down, I spent the entire day inte water with her. I had to reherd her back toward shore about every 40 mintes or so. But it was the same thought process. Rather than sit on the beach and watch a shark take a bite, I was going to be in the water, right beside her so I could attack the son of a bitch and knock him off her and get care immediately.
Maybe I taught her what bravery is: doing what you fear, and how you can be so motivated.
Ah, well, C'est la vie, eh?

On May 2, 2008, my daughter walked across the stage and received her pin, signifying that she earned an RN associate degree from the local community college, which is one of the best RN program's in the southeast region.
I'm so pumped and have so much to say but I want to post some photos and I have get over to my dad's in just a bit so I'm coming back.
This is the formal announcement to be followed by the in-depth commentary on her life including the fact that the nursing program was established by the school in 1985, the year she was born! How freaky is that? My mom, step-dad even picked up on that fortuitous event.

Don't you know that I'm still standing, better than I ever did, looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid.
I still got it, I still know, feel, get my senses working the mojo.
I'm picking up the vibes from my daughter. I hear her, feel her, and decode her. In recent months, the people that love her but don't see her, my parents, her dad, have asked me, me; I guess they know better than I that I know her better than they, how is "beloved child" doing?
I've said pretty much the same thing to all: Oh, she's doing well. She making good grades in her last semester in nursing school. She will be graduating this May. And then, the brick of sensitivity has smacked me in the head and I add, "I think she's feeling a little anxious, I think she's starting to get ready for graduation and she's worried about entry into the "real world."
Of course, I know, in my huge ginormous age, that she will be just fine, she will do fine in the work place, and that most work places won't just throw her into the room and say, "go get'em, honey."

She will be proctored for what, six months? some incredible amount of time that will be good and then she will be ready to walk on to the floor.

But soaring above the mundane worries (albeit most significant to us when we are amidst them) I know that, about the proctors, about how she will still be watched over, not just turned loose to kill someone, randomly.
Just tonight, she was at my house when I got home. I knew that because we had talked on "my" cell phone.
SO i was very glad to see her and we spent nearly three hours talking. part serous, part fun.
she talked about her problems with sleeping, which affected her enough to ask me about talking to (Our fave ear) and why. She talked about the fears that have kept her from calling and she admitted she fears she might be found too "crazy."
I said, I hate to disappoint you, but I think you are probably suffering some anxiety about impending graduation and I think that is normal.
She agrees that it is probably normal, we both agree that does not mean by passing the call. I say, call anyway, let the expert do her thing and she will probably think of something we haven't and she will undoubtedly be able to draw you out to articulate your issues and she will be able to say the things that we can say, but some how are lame from us, the bomb from her.
So, I'm still standing.
Best I've felt in a long while.
I am a good mom, I know my child, she still turns to me, she listens to me, she loves me and prizes me.
she jokes that at 31 she will be sitting with a friend in a bar and the friend's phone will ring and it will be her mother, wanting to know if the friend has seen her, and where she is and where her mom can get in touch, and well so on and on. The truth is the truth

I'm still standing, better than I ever was