Shhhh...

Hey, keep your voice down, I don't want to attract any attention.

Forgive me Father, it's been - how long? 5 months since I blogged. Wow, time just zips the hell on by, when you're out of the house and knee-deep in La Vita Loca. Or more accurately, La Vita Broka. But as nice as huge piles of cash would look, lying around the house, I can't complain.

Life IS good.
The guys are doing well in school, making friends and good grades.
The Gorilla-man (aka, the hub) and I are solid. Getting ready to celebrate 18 years this month. How the hell that happened? Beats me - I'm just working for the weekend, you know?

I'm also almost 30 pounds slimmer and a lot stronger than I was back in May.
When I joined the gym in mid-May, I could barely reach down to tie my shoes, I got winded walking a block, and I felt like I was suffocating everytime I lay down to sleep. Now, I'm busting ass for an hour and a half at the gym 4 times a week - getting the heartrate up and lifting weights, and I feel better than I've ever felt before.

Bea has been right there as well, though she goes at night and I go during the day (except for Saturday and Sunday, when we go together). I think she's lost about the same - I know we both have funhouse mirror perspectives about ourselves, but I can tell she's gotten trimmer, more compact. We are just getting better and better all the time, and by this next spring, we are going to be a pair of buff bitches. "Yeah, that's the ticket!"

I've thought about coming back in and writing - I like writing, and when I do it consistently, I can see how much better I get at it. But the hours of time spent socializing with other bloggers, while interesting, insightful, fun even, it's time away from my real life. When my eldest son told me last spring, "Wow Mom, you sure spend a lot of time on the computer blogging. You must really like it," I had the wake-up call. Because there is nothing more important to me than making sure my kids feel like they have my full attention when they need it, and honestly? Being in the blogger groove was making that mission statement a bald lie.

I miss you guys, no, I really do. I want to find a way to continue blogging, but not compromise the job I do as a mom and a wife, and a friend. I can't guarantee I'll be here every week, or that I'll be on top of reading your posts as soon as they publish, but I will be there, albeit late (So what else is new, right?!)

As The Pendulum Swings

Well hello!
I'm up out of the cellar today, the black funk having passed tornado-like, leaving flotsam and destruction, but everything important is intact. The husband person has been very supportive and kind lately; I think I might have scared him. I know I scared myself.

I'm reading "Reflections on the Art of Living - A Joseph Campbell Companion" this week, while I wait for my super groovy history book, "Albion's Seed", to arrive. I figured I could use a little perspective refresher, and Joseph Campbell is my kind of guy, having arrived at his personal philosophy via a life-long study of world mythology, and just following his muse. This particular book has an emphasis on the Grail Quest, as it pertains to finding meaning in your individual life. I love the fact that he never talks like some high-falutin' guru, trying to sell you on his version of snake tonic/ spiritual perfection. That always raises my suspicion, along with my hackles. He says things like, "doing what someone else wants you to do, is slave morality", and "if you can see the path you're on, then it isn't your path, it's someone else's". A man who tells us that getting lost is the first step to finding your way - how could I NOT love him?

And speaking of following the crowd, I up and joined a gym today. I know - ME??? Join a gym? After that spiel of going "el solo lobo"? I woke up this morning, pushing maximum density, and thought about going to join a gym. My first reaction was claustrophobic - "I'll be trapped! I'll be joining the crowd, etc." Then my rational, used-to-be-a-slim-girl voice spoke up: "And sitting on your ass, in the house, all during the hot, humid summer, doing Ho-ho curls, is going to do what??"

So I went and joined, and in true Ms. Q fashion, I immediately wanted to go out to lunch for a cheeseburger, because as the Buddha of Juicy Rationalizations (Ms. Q) would say: "I joined the gym, I'm paying the money, won't the weight just come off now?" And I've always laughed at her, but now, now "I'm looking down, Shrek", and I can't see my feet, and it isn't quite as funny. (okay, it's still a little funny, especially when she says it, but then she is a comic genius, or is it just me who thinks that?)

So now I'm a gym-rat. Imagine that, and then let me know how big my ass looks in that work-out gear, or even more likely, how scared the others will be when I show up in bag-lady gear (ass still pushing the boundaries of our neighboring countries), because I'm too cheap to buy sparkly new, perky work-out clothes, replete with matching scrunchy?

Stay tuned...