octopoda

Picture for a minute, if you will, an innocent octopus floating along beautiful coral keeping a close eye on her three adopted (because we know reproduction is cause for death of these gentle beasts) octopi while stretching an arm out for this task and that. Blissfully. Unaware. Getting pulled in many different directions, here and there, taking care of this and that. Some arms are stretched straight out past their max and others are intertwined and woven around things taken to heart. Unbeknowst to the massive invertebrate, Mr. Sushi Suzuki is following close behind with his large meat cleaver when all the sudden . . . . . . CHOP! The octopuses arm is severed just between the sixth and seventh suction cup and what's left is snapped back. CHOP! CHOP! Mr. Suzuki is quick. He has a restaurant to run after all. The octopus desperately tries to recoil her remaining arms. CHOP! CHOP! SNAP! SNAP! SNAP! She scampers to gather up her octopi and letting loose a cloud of dark ink to disappear within so that to rehabilitate and heal. Only to slowly stretch out her arms one by one after the water has cleared. This time she's more reluctant but before she knows it, seven of her arms are at their max once again; some around projects, some around octopi, some around the things she loves, but with more protection always an arm wrapped tightly around one of her three hearts. Will she ever learn?



Are you still with me? This, for lack of a better analogy, is how I've been feeling lately. Very emotional. Very hormonal. I read my friend's blog this morning on obsession/irritation and oh how it hit home. Her words rang so true with me and I have been pondering the difficulties of parenting and living life ever since. Why do we try so hard to paint a picture of perfection when inside we are screaming for help and comfort? Or is it that everyone else has it all figured out and those who are struggling, are only missing a very important piece? If only it were that easy. Wonder Boy is going through some major growing pains right now. His behavior has been taxing and tiring and extreme. I'm at my wits' end.



I've been thinking about my grandmother a lot lately too. I stumbled across chocolate orange sticks at Trader Joe's, Grandma Donna's favorite candy, and I had to buy them selfishly keeping them all to myself. Being reminded of her with every bite. We drove up to the Skagit Valley Fair Grounds Saturday afternoon to support my mom in her business endeavors only to be reminded of grandma again while spying some turquoise jewelry across the exhibitors hall telling myself I need to buy Baby Love a piece of turquoise jewelry one day in honor of her great grandma since they share the same birthday.



Zina Linnik was found dead. I knew they wouldn't find her alive but I had hoped they would. This adds to my stress for reasons that scare me too much. It forces emotions to bubble up to the surface as much as I try not to think about it. The disgusting convicted sex offender, Terapon Dang Adhahn, is found guilty along with several other crimes against children. (Update: I just saw a blurb on tv tonight that he will not be sentenced to death again. OUTRAGE!) Why this trash was not put to death the first time they convicted him is beyond me and makes me sick. Our justice system is severally flawed!



I was reminded of my paternal grandmother today too. More old emotions bubbling up to the surface. My half-sister left a note in my mom's mail box informing me of her impending move to Georgia and telling me to contact an aunt. An aunt I've not spoken with in years . . . . . . longer even than I've not spoken to my father. She is in charge of dividing my grandmother's belongings and in the will she wanted a piece of jewelry to be given to each granddaughter. A title I have long given up so I was surprised to be included in the list. The conversation was strained and awkward and difficult. I feel like the McGuire clan are all angry at me for cutting ties and making it on my own not to be drowned by drugs and keeping afloat with education. I don't know how to feel or what to do with it all. I tend to just put it aside and not think about it much except for rainy days when I find myself lost in thought.



My spirits were uplifted when I found a handwritten, four page letter from my long time friend from Australia in my mailbox this afternoon. We met in high school as she was a foreign exchange student and we haven't seen each other in person since she flew back home. She wrote of her first time mum adventures and her one year old son. Her journey back to work and the remodels to her home. I found comfort in her familiar penmanship and her signature "heart" + "smiley face" = "peace sign" that I haven't seen for many years. I neatly folded her letter back up and slid it into the pink envelope in which it came. What perfect timing she'll never know she had.



Finally, as I try not to leave my tentacles dangling, I will leave you with a sweet, dirty cat face from the company picnic yesterday and my mom doing what she does best at the Skagit Valley Fairgrounds.