Archive | April, 2005

Of Birthdays Beaches and Boys

My son Brian turned 10 this week.

I love his birthday.  As I do every year, I allow him to skip school and we go on a day trip.  Friday ended with his choice of going to the beach.  He chose Schoolhouse Beach, which was rather ironic.

schoolhouse unsafe beach signFor anyone that might not be from this area Schoolhouse Beach is north of Bodega and one of the deadliest beaches for drowning.  Brian believes it is called Schoolhouse beach because the never-ending crescendo of crashing waves are as loud as a bunch of kids in a schoolhouse.

We were the only two on the entire beach and sat leaning back against a large piece of driftwood.  Boonie ran the length of the beach barking at the crashing waves as if warning us of their deadly charms.  We sat far enough away and buried Brian in sand and dug for hidden treasures.

I have been taking Brian to the beach for his birthday every year since he turned 3.

It was a rare spring day on the coast, warm and not a cloud in the sky.  We could beachsee west across the dancing ocean for miles and miles.  It restores my soul.  With each sound of the waves slapping against the shore, retreating and crashing again it is as if my troubles are beat down and pulled out, then washed out to sea.

Brian is as addicted as I am to water, and the beach.  It was a lovely day.

Saturday was the official birthday party for Brian and my ex husband agreed to host the party for the very first time.  (Are you getting the feeling that this is the never-ending birthday party?)

I had the pleasure of playing “Disneyland Mom” for my first time.

You can bet those little goodie bags for the boys were filled with candy.  Who says ex husbands need any sleep?

Until next time -

C

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

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Where We Tend A Rose A Thistle Cannot Grow

Leonard Louis Levinson once was quoted as stating, “A pessimist sees only the dark side of the clouds, and mopes; a philosopher sees both sides, and shrugs; an optimist doesn’t see the clouds at all – he’s walking on them.”

The Secret GardenPeople are always telling me how difficult single motherhood is, but for some reason I don’t hear them.

When I first moved to this tiny place Brian and I now call home I was determined to create a magical space, a sanctuary from the outside world.  We used to read, The Secret Garden and I wanted to create some of the same magic here in our little home.

After my divorce it seemed as if we were starting at less than zero.  All I had was my love of Brian, some ideas and my love of music.  There was no cable television – no couch – I had given up many things.  I was determined to create a different life.  Within the empty spaces which occupied our new walls, I began to paint and redecorate while listening to grand musical classics.

Inch by inch our new home began to take on a character and life of its own.  From the lush outdoor gardens that spring forth new life to our ‘wall of wishes’ which hang as our favorite story over the new couch – each a tribute to how far we’ve come.  Has it been easy?  I suppose not, but I loved every minute.  I am free, free to create whatever future I can imagine and hold on to.  Have I been frightened?  Oh hell yeah, many times.

Everyday I can always find something to laugh at, or be grateful for.  It is difficult for me to understand people who must always look for the bad in life – to always be upset about something – or mad at someone – or play the victim.  They are tiring people to be around.  I can only get on my own pity train just long enough to eat some dark chocolate, then I am done.

I see the hope and possibilities and refuse to give up on my dreams.  Each new day brings with it the promise for a new bloom where you are plantedlife.  Sometimes you just walk around a corner and suddenly everything changes.

I refuse to settle for mediocrity.  Just as my gardens spring forth new life, the seeds I am planting for my life will bring forth new magic in the years to come – just as long as I don’t give up.

Especially on those days where that cat has thrown up on Brian’s backpack and he’s stepped in dog crap outside on the way to the car…in his brand new shoes.

Just remember – “Where, you tend a rose, my lad, A thistle cannot grow.” (Frances Hodgson Burnett The Secret Garden)

Until next time-

C

http://www.aweekinthelifeofaredhead.com

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