At these times, i feel my presence upon a small stage with the black curtain behind me -- standing in the cheap spot light within the small crowded clap.

The rattle and hum of my children spark a nervous awakening within me. Quiet is interrupted with jolts of clattering tones behind the door. breath in this moment, before I will walk across it's threshold and enter once again into the innocent and egocentric lives of my children; who count on me to be present in their moment of time.

Digress:

Simon: The bond is tight. The enjoyment is real. The laughter is genuine. I sometimes am amiss when thinking he is mature beyond his 11 years. His sarcastic wit, his sensitive soul, his appreciation of the moment, his meaningful gaze and purposeful words. He is 11. For historical perspective - he will be having his 8th surgery in a couple of months.

1. Jan. 2000 (10 mos old) first set of tubes in both ears
2. April 2001 (2 yrs old) second set of tubes in both ears
3. April 2002 (3 yrs old) third tubes placed in left ear
4. July 2002 - CT Scan: bone destruction in left mastoid
5. Dec. 2003 - averted Mastoidectomy: huge surgery.
6. Feb. 2004 - (5 years old) Tubes surgically removed in both ears. We will find that perforations will not close during the coming years and infection in left will continue. 7. August 2005 ( 6 years old) Surgery: Left lateral graft tympanoplasty and right myringoplasty (skin graft to plug hole)
8. June 2008 (9 years old) Right cartilage graft tympanoplasty. Dr. wanted to put in a tube in simon's left ear at that time, but when opening it up, he saw a mess of fluid and gunk behind mastoid and decided against it. Simon's left hearing is continually compromised throughout the years.
9. October 2008: CT scan. In the past, simon has had significant cholesteatoma in his left ear, today, the left looks normal. We will later find that the cholesteatoma will return to the left. Left ear drum is showing signs of retracting and building around the bone.
10. October 2010? Surgical removal of tissue mass (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cholesteatoma) within the inner ear which is growing up against the bone - shifting it's overall position.

Perry: A world awaits this boy wonder who sporadically claimed that Singapore was in Wisconsin. Unfortunately, I stake claim and fault for his naive nature. At times, I am surprised at the things he does not know but marvel at the idea of who he is. With his knowledge of self, he will be just fine...and who is to say, maybe there is a Singapore in Wisconsin.

Lucy: She traverses daily through unknown terrain. Presently, she is in need of more cuddling, affirmation and security. She often answers when conversation is directed at her younger brother - signaling that I have forgotten about her and I need to be checked. She desires all the parent I can be. We travel the day - marked with conversation, played hands of cards, lunches together and physical contact. She is just as strong as her brothers, but in need of reinforcements at this time.

Sidney: La Bete' (the Beast). He knows us. he knows how to make us laugh, he knows what makes us tick and he knows how to make our hearts melt. He is genius enough to figure out when previous behaviors have entertained and will repeat on occasion. He makes a guttural roar as he walks his house. The fourth child will not go silently.

Thank you for listening, thank you for your ears and the chance to feel apart of a new born sun when i sit and radiate my words- all from the small world in which i live...for i am not a rock climber, a sky diver, a gourmet chef. Nor am I a poet, an artist or a musician. I am but a mother.....

To Work Within the Deisre, How? When? Why? Where?

I desire a change. I often desire a change. I look at my existence and question, "What can i do better?"

Growing up, I was the same, but in simple form, i was in constant need of changing my surround; and at that time, I did it through rearranging my room furniture and writing.

The reality of my resume: Stay at home mom, raising 4 kids, living in Minnetonka, Minnesota...a slow paced, suburb of Minneapolis.

I so desire to be present in this world. I always have, and sitting back, talking about diaper changes and dish detergents encourages contemplation.

I rest on my excuses: 4 growing children, intelligence, know how, time, location, sacrifice for the other, etc. Each one, filling a page of whys and cannots.

Asleep within my time

I was told by a great lady to wait it out; i would be more effective when kids are older and concentration is shifted. Perhaps this is true. I worked diligently with the local foodshelf until one day, my children's safety was strongly compromised and now that tie has been severed....for now.

So, what do I desire?

awakeness in life
participation within the abundance energy of culture
uniqueness of time (suburban coffee shops ....NO)
a place for photography concentration --- this would clearly follow from above
a different view

I am placed here. Yes, I am. I can appreciate it, be thankful, feel blessed, and secure. I write to say that i am not complacent. I do not desire to stay on my microscopic dot. My question: If there is a desire, and it is strong, then where is the will to make it happen? When I can't even seem to etch out time for a haircut - how would i etch out time for such a monumental endeavor?

The choices I have made have lead me through this life - this one time on stage, life. I am in need of a shift. I am in need - like the little girl before me - of the furniture changed.

Thanks for listening

It's a Boy....

Last night,as i rocked in my baby's rocking chair; i could hear through the open window all the neighbor children playing hide and go seek; counting out loud, running around the house, declarations of whom was found and still in need of being sought. I changed from chair placement to window and watched intently, these children, these friends, these comrades in arm and reminisced the make up of the present.

"It's a boy!" my neighbor shouts from her car window as she and her husband slow down the car on their way home from her doctor's appointment. "We are going to have a boy!" This was 7 years ago and the little baby who toddled in the wading pool on his front lawn is now, "IT" in the game of choice this evening.

Ding Dong goes the door bell and Clifford, the Big Red Dog is standing before me, too shy to say, "Trick or Treat" so his parents say it for him. He is all but 3 or years of age. I think back to the times of walking this little one up to his home - the three houses stood together in monumental form. Navigation and guidance were required at such a young age. The now 11 year old has been in our house all day playing Legos, Wii and Risk with his counterpart, Simon. The two run from front lawn, across the street and tag the mailbox..."SAFE!" I hear them shout in unison.

"Katie, Daniel has run off again....can you call me if you see him?" This little boy, with so much to give the world, unleashes himself frequently from his own ties that bind. He marches to his own beat. At 3 years of age, he and Simon walk arm and arm down to the bus stop to say good bye to their older brothers venturing into the world of Kindergarten. The relationship between friend and son has been volatile, but both boys have grown together and each one is better for knowing the other. I look out the window and comically, the barefoot 11 year old stands frozen behind a skinny tree branch.

A Christmas card hung on our wall with a woman, her husband, her 12 year old daughter and a message that a baby will soon be coming into the world. a couple years later, another card came with the family of 4; and another was soon to make an entrance. This family has led a quiet existence. The two babies, now 7 and 5 are showing themselves more and more as they grow. Two more have added themselves to the crop that grows on this child laden street.

The 2 year old twins, who long ago showed up on this street in diapers, now reign in control with skateboards, baseball mitts, bats, balls, scooters, and bikes. These boys seek no borders and we have had our share of challenges trying to deal and educate our own children in times of quandary. The 7 year olds fight over who is really *not* it and which one is going to quit the game if they don't get their way and which rules are meant to be broken. With this, I watch from my placement near the window, check my watch and wonder if the time is almost near; the game of Hide and Seek will eventually come to blows and one of the twins will march off into their house, screaming at the other and the game will officially be over.


The doorbell rings all day. Kids funnel in and out, and the beat of Highland Place is strong. Last night, 10 kids represented - all growing up in a solid existence, all learning, all influenced, and all changing at each other's side.

I set the baby down from my hold, he walks down the hall, babbling; this too, will one day, only be a memory.

Thanks for listening.

And I Wait....and Wait.....Swinging

Scooby -Doo fills the scene for three tired offspring. Little one is content gazing out window and reading board book in crib, husband is at work and all I have is....well, what I want; unscheduled moments of me. I have brought my notebook out to the deck, fixed myself an iced coffee, lit the candles and breathed in my environment. A cacophony of birds compliment the surround. All is present and ready - but my mind. It is adrift and I wonder why. It is cluttered and giving me a headache. These are moments I yearn for, beg for and take in with incredible advantage and tonight, I am "All dressed up with no where to go."

There is nothing to write and I apologize to those who will soon be getting a copy of this??? What *is* this?

I am spoiled and cynical, but grateful all the same.

My pendulum swings freely from it's weight above; it moves slowly, but with great weight and precision; once arriving and leaving within the same breath. Continuing without effort. Within the exactness of those moments, all is defined and never to be mimicked in style, taste, or condition- with risk of becoming out of sync. I am under.

I often take view from an aeral point; looking down, watching the maze unfold, keeping in time with each swing of the pendulum. Watching in moments, the convergence of time: my time - from past to present to future. Without control, you swing on the wire, grasping and breathing and watching your outstretched fingers melt away.

Some days, gravity plays games and a day, month or year disappears in a single swing of the pendulum. Other times, it pulls with great force and there is no fighting, just questioning of involvement and need.

The ubiquitous pendulum

So, I have found this niche and carved out another etch in history. Nothing significant, nothing short of boring and mundane - just writing a moment away as I swing upon my pendulum

Thanks for listening.

A Different Kinda Taste

13 years ago....I was teaching half time, my husband worked out of a cubicle, and our home had barely seen the transformation it has today. I was a young mother to Perry. My days were spent learning and transforming myself into his 'mom-mom.' This was, unfortunately, met with much resentment, as I fought daily between my old/new self. Our lives quickly transpired from one child to three in a short smattering of time. I was barely educated enough to have one child and in quick revelations, I had three car seats and a van. As the house transformed, so did our lives, our careers, our outlooks, and our perspectives. I was no longer resentful and my head was in the game. Mothering was to be a serious commitment and not to be taken lightly. My stepping stone children were either going to thrive or falter under my guidance...it was a heavy load to bare (and still is in present day).

16 months ago....I was homeschooling my children, my husband was building a new kind of office and our home lived through the noise of nailing 2 x 4s, drilling, cementing, knocking down, and adding on. I am aging through this mothering process but my vision is not as muddled as it was when I was young.

This week, I have had the experience of being a single mother to a single baby. The other three have been away and will be returning sometime tomorrow afternoon. I have enjoyed without drudgery, I have experienced without resentment, I have laughed and lifted and twirled without force. I think back to when it was just Perry and me and i wonder, "What was all the drama about? How hard would it have been to enjoy it? Why did those years slip into the next without the attention and examination that is clearly present today?"

hmmm. No closing, simply examination.

Thanks for listening.

That's Right, I Was!

Today, after entering the house at 5:00, my oldest says, "I'm going to my friends house, I will be back by dinner!" I reply, "No, stay home for a bit. You have been gone all day." and the great come back is: "Ya, so.....so have you." I tell him that I had no choice in the matter and he argues that I do. I *do* in fact have a choice in the matter. I guess that is true.

Here are my choices from morning until now
1. Should I take my aspirin with my coffee or at the end of the day after all the driving and incessant beeping of road construction trucks backing up in my neighborhood all day long. Hindering any kind of easy transportation in and out.
1A. Do I sit with oldest child that is doing summer school in home and help guide him through - teaching him the basics of spelling and writing and math, or do I take my coffee on the deck and close the door on all children.
2. Do I take child to swimming before or after I lay down the crabby baby for his nap.
3. Do I spend simon's 35 minute swim time running to shops to make sure the little sister has gifts to open tomorrow - as she will be away on her birthday, so we will celebrate it tomorrow - or do i wait until 9pm when all are asleep.
4. Do i drive down *this* street that is blocked by construction crews; not allowing me into my street, or should i drive down *that* street that is blocked by construction crews, not allowing me into my street.
5. Do I wake up sleeping baby before or after I take second child to swimming lessons and how is it that I am going to fit in third child's piano lesson again?
6. Should I spend 35 minutes of my precious day talking to a T-Mobile tech support guy or should I just let my broken phone sit on the table without anyone being able to get ahold me me
7. Which mall should I go to, to pick up my 'loner' cell phone. the one that is 4.5 miles away or the one that is 5.2 miles away. Wow, this day really *was* packed with choices.
8. Should I walk all the way back up to my house (car is parked on a different street) after i forgot a very important piece of paper? or run the risk of salesperson not being able to help me because I dont have the piece of paper?
9. Should I leave the baby in the car or should I bring him with me, all the way up the street on a very hot day? (ended up taking jeep into street and parking quickly at neighbors house - engine running, katie running, you get the point.
10. Should I take the little girl so proud of her "Summer Reading" accomplishment to Barnes and Noble now for her reward (as she is begging), or maybe another day when things aren't as hectic.
11. What should we have for dinner?

So, I have plenty of choices - my oldest was right.

DEXTER

I am involved with another man. His name is Dexter. He is a fictitious character produced by Showtime TV. John is away for the week and that means that Dexter and I have some alone time.

Blood Pathologist by day, Serial Killer by night. I am drawn to his intriguing and cerebral reality. His writers are keen and insightful and they too, live within the passion and picture of words.

Dexter is a Logophile, such as my self-proclaimed self. Each night, i sit upon the couch with my notebook and I listen intently to the words - the slow and penetrating sound of his text. I listen and copy down my favorites. Here are a few:

FAVORITE DEXTER QUOTES

He taught me how to think like one; he taught me how to cover my tracks. I'm a very neat monster.

My sister puts up a front so people won't know how vulnerable she really is. Me? I put up a front so people won't know how vulnerable I'm not.

The worst thing about finally putting together a puzzle is finding there are missing pieces. He came back and left nothing behind but a message: come find me, and I will.

There are no secrets in life, just hidden truths that lie beneath the surface. (Favorite thus far)
Harry taught me that death isn't the end. It's the beginning of a chain reaction that will catch you if you're not careful. He taught me that none of us are who we appear to be on the outside. But we must maintain appearances to survive. But there was something Harry didn't teach me. Something he didn't know, couldn't possibly know. The willful taking of life represents the ultimate disconnect from humanity. It leaves you an outsider, forever looking in, searching for company to keep.

I love Halloween. The one time of year when everyone wears a mask … not just me. People think it's fun to pretend you're a monster. Me, I spend my life pretending I'm not

Some people might call me a fraud. ...I prefer to think of myself as a master of disguise.

Harry was the only one who saw me, really saw me. So he taught me to hide and that's what's kept me safe. But sometimes I'm not sure where Harry's vision of me ends and where the real me starts. If I'm just a collection of learned behaviors, bits and pieces of Harry, maybe my new friend is right. Maybe I am a fraud.

"Be prepared" – that's my motto. The Boy Scouts and I have that in common. Of course, there's no merit badge for tonight's outing.

The Allure of Secrets

Last night, we were at a family gathering. Grandpa was turning 80. When all are gathered around the table, the pinball action of conversation is at times, hard to follow. It is great, educational, loud, comical and heartwarming.

Last night, a man was turning 80. The past of this man is filled with an array of colorful chapters. We sat and listened with fascination as he talked about his life as a child. Across from him, sat his mother-in-law; a woman on the verge of turning 90. Earlier that week, she had lunch with 10 or so alumni of her high school class. The yearbooks were brought out, the memories were recharged and again, the conversations were as quick as a well orchestrated jitterbug.

The daughter, acting as Chaperon, retold of the experience of taking her mother to her luncheon on school grounds. She captivated me. The daughter found herself reading through her mother's yearbook, all the friends who had signed - memorializing a moment that was brought back in this evening's conversation. We found ourselves laughing at the trend of the word, but more than that, we openly questioned her on those who had signed themselves into history. "What did he mean by that, Mom?" "Did you ditch class that often?" "Why would she say *that*?" "Tell us what happened that night, Mom?"

The Matriarch of the family played coy - batting her head back and forth - her mind, competing over the memory of her time, spoke: "I don't know what you are talking about," she said simply and repeatedly.The secrets were solid and locked.

In a day of Facebook, Twitter, Blogging and the almost forgotten, My Space, there are no secrets. We are an open book, literally. Conversations take different direction now - segmented with interruption, "Oh yeah, I saw you did that on Facebook," or, "That's right, you wrote about it in your blog." "I see, by your Twitter update, that you were able to go see that movie yesterday."

There was a freshness to last night. We (or I), was an invited guest to an 80 year old man's filled and challenging life and to an almost 90 year old woman's alluring past. The attractiveness is strong and I desire change without my own communication. I do not wish to be an open book, as if modeling my wares in storefront window for all to see.

I close this post with a new direction.
Thanks for listening,
Katie

The Reality of My Reality

This evening, after dinner conversation and all were excused from table; i began to clean up. The 15th month old was getting his hands full of whatever exciting bacteria lives within the opened dishwasher, the 3 remaining dispersed to their chosen place of being and as the husband picked up the 15th month old, my mind happily took me back to Europe. My eyes traveled from soapy sponge to my already 'back in America' trend of Capris pants and tank top and I spoke aloud, "John, after this is cleaned, I am going to take a few quiet moments to write...I don't need to go anywhere, but maybe I will close the door and take in some solitude." Husband's response (with good intention), "Let's put this one (baby) down first and you can have all the moments you want."

So, wanting to take in and process present reality; i am shifted. Baby does not go down easily as planned. I find myself singing, and reading books to this little one, thinking, "You are taking me away from my needed transciption of where i am, where i was, and affects. I am with you instead."

At end of routine, i walk down the hall, pick up my lap top and say " I will be out in back."

Taking in another attempt --- but really, an attempt at what? Words? Words to give body and depth? To what? A hurried desire?

Sitting on a chaise upon the lawn, swatting at mosquitoes on a humid evening, taking in sound of baseball game across the street, a ringing telephone, a neighbor's laugh and a weed whacker finishing off this orchestral symphony; playing my song.

I ask for a moment to digest reality; but in truth, this IS my reality. It's fleeing, too quick to grab a hold, it's lost. Baby cries in the distance. Time to be *in* and take center stage in reality.

Thanks for listening