K is for Kookamaniafroofroohubalazoo!

I never swear.

So I thought I'd make up a word to express my extreme frustration with blogger right now. I am having SO much fun with this ABC blogfest, and I'm getting more comments on my little thoughts than ever before in all my blogging life, of three years. I'm a very social, friendly, happy person, and I would LOVE to reply to all the awesome comments I'm getting, but I CAN'T! I don't know what blogger is doing, but it won't let me post any replies, as soon as I type something, click "preview" or "post", in whatever order I try, it ERASES my comments! GRRRR!

So, that is why I'm not responding to all these amazing comments, I promise, I am not anti-social. I'm probably the least anti-social person out there. I suppose, the best I can do until I figure this out is send out a big old blanket THANK YOU!!!!!! To everyone stopping by, visiting, leaving me a note, and even following me, you guys are truly making my day!

Blogger is not.

Although, it did inspire me with the word "Kookamaniafroofroohubalazoo" and I'm actually kind of proud of that. Will use it next time my four year old paints the carpet with my acrylics.

Until tomorrow...
The Domestic Diva

Is it a weed, or a wish?

Golden moment #47

Somewhere, deep below the ocean waves there is a submarine. Somewhere on that submarine is my husband.

The day he hugged our son goodbye, walked out the front door, and  waved to us as he drove away to board his boat, something terrible happened, I blew him a kiss. "That's not terrible! You may think, but I accidentally threw him more than a kiss on that breath, with that kiss all of my happy, inspiring, golden moments seemed to fly off. Laughter, perspective, and joy, all raced after that kiss  and threatened never to come back, until he did.

And I have been sad. Really, really, sad this patrol. More so than other patrols. I ran away to my parents house and haven't had the courage to step foot back into our quiet home again while he is gone. And I haven't written a golden moment, because my life sort of felt like lead. Sometimes life feels like that. Then, once again, something happened. Josh must have blown me a secret kiss back, from deep beneath the sea, and by some miraculous feat of triumph that kiss landed softly at the corner of my eye. But it wasn't just a kiss, perspective decided she'd been away from me long enough and caught a ride with that kiss from deep beneath the sea. I felt her presence at once when I looked down and saw a weed growing in the grass.

"Oh, but is it really just a weed?" Perspective coaxed.

"I think it's just a weed, look at those seeds on that old dandelion, soon the wind will blow carrying them all over filling yards and gardens with unwanted dandelions."

"Unwanted by who?" Perspective questioned.

"I don't know, the people who have to pull them up to keep their yards looking decent."

"So dandelions make yards look indecent?" Perspective asked.

"To some people, like me. Maybe not to Scotty, Scotty can't get enough of dandelions, especially when they go to seed like this one, he calls them "wish flowers.'" I smiled.

"How did your son learn to call a weed a "wish flower?" Perspective was curious.

"I told him they are wish flowers, when I was a girl, I'd pick the dandelions in this stage and blow off all the seeds, if you make a wish on the flower it will come true..."

I picked up the little flower and held it in my hand. Then took a deep breath and blew a wish. The wind scattered the flower like confetti and dropped the little parachute seeds back to the earth. I giggled and my heart felt a spark of childlike joy, they'd tagged along with perspective on her flight home. As I stared at the long empty stem in my hand it occurred to me they'd never really left. 

My wish flower

to see through

teary eyes

to sing

at deep blue skies

to loose myself 

in love

to find myself

in love

to stand on lonely ground

to stand amid a crowd

to clap my hands

to stomp my feet

to rage

to storm

to call retreat

a hug hello

a last goodbye

a boisterous laugh 

a heavy sigh

to blow a kiss

where it is sought

and have it reach 

where I can not

I take a breath

and all of this,

escapes my soul

on a flower wish.

Photo Copy right Heidi Nickerson

Golden moment 45, written for July 13

Yesterday's golden moment may surprise some of you, but my golden moment was a gum graft.
Anyone out there have anxiety about dental work? I know I do. In fact, I feel quite justified in my anxiety over dental work. I had eight years of braces, (With no breaks people, they were on my teeth for 8 years straight) I had two major jaw surgeries, the first one lasted 8 hours and I couldn't talk, or eat solid food for about three months afterwards. It involved a bone graft from my hip to my jaw, laughing after having a chunk of bone scraped from your hip is excruciating. I gave birth without any drugs, or medication to ease off the pain, and I can tell you the graft was FAR worse than anything I felt in labor. Like a knife stabbing me it hurt so bad. I was afraid to sleep at night because I couldn't breathe very well, I was so swollen. In fact, the swelling did not go down completely for a whole year. Though the bruising did end eventually. Then, after all that, my jaw actually re-opened. And my teeth went crooked again. Not as bad as before surgery, but I do not have perfect teeth. I could actually bite normally for a short time, but the over bite just opened itself up again, and the doctor said it was so rare he hardly ever mentions it. But it only seems to happen to women between the ages of 18 and 25 or something, some weird fluke where the body just wants to reverse the effects of the surgery. And that statistic happened to be me. The second was only a four hour procedure and I don't think it was nearly as bad as the first. I don't remember much about it. Oh, and after I finally got my braces off, and teeth implants in, guess what, I had 18 cavities. I don't think I need to convince you any more that I have some SERIOUS anxiety surrounding dental work. I have literally gone in to have my teeth cleaned only to start hyper-ventalating and having a panic attack.

So you can imagine some of the trepidation I felt surrounding the gum graft I had to have done yesterday. But let me tell you what I did. When I had the thought "I DON'T WANT TO HAVE THIS GUM GRAFT DONE!" I actually decided to turn it around to "I want to have this gum graft done" and I found three truths in that. My truths were:

I want to take care of my teeth.
I love the office my periodontist works in, there are beautiful views of the forrest wetland outside her floor to ceiling windows
and
I really like my periodontist and look forward to visiting with her again.

As I walked into the office, or sat down in the chair and felt anxiety start to rise within me, I asked myself "Are you in pain? Are you safe? Is there really any danger here?" Every-time I had to answer, no to these questions and then I just told myself to relax.

At one point during the procedure my periodontist and her assistant were telling me a story that just made me laugh!  And I found myself marveling at the fact that despite having dental work done, I was happy enough to be laughing!

Whenever I felt my fists clench, my stomach tighten, or my lower back arch I asked myself the questions again, "Am I in pain? Is there really any danger here?" The answer always came up no, and once again I could relax.

The graft went beautifully, that hour was up before I knew it. When I went to get up, I had a drop in blood pressure and thought I would pass out, but my periodontist and her assistant were angelic as they put a cold lavender scented wash cloth on my forehead and slowly leaned my chair back for me. It took me a while to get my blood pressure high enough for me to get up without fainting but they were so sweet and let me take all the time I needed.

As I drove home I thought about the incredible blessing it was to have access to such good care, to be in such a comfortable setting, and to have such a kind periodontist who truly had a passion for her work.

That night, my periodontist called to check up on me. (I know, she is AMAZING!) And I told her that I was doing great, and that my gum graft that day had truly been one of the most enjoyable dental experiences I've ever had. In fact, I can honestly say it was a very nice afternoon.

My amazing mother in law has been kind enough to watch my toddler so I've had almost two full days to just rest and heal.

Discovering my power to just let go of such incredible anxiety astounded me. It was like cleaning up layers of clutter. The more you pick up the more you discover that there is something beautiful hidden beneath all the junk. It was like that with my thoughts, all I had to do was question the reality of my thought. "I'm anxious" really? Is that true, are you in PAIN right now? When I answered, honestly I could say "No" and then there was peace. Even if I had been in pain, I think it would have been okay. I would have gone from there, but I could deal with it without the stress, and fear factor.

Finding this within me, was incredible, it was so freeing and so peaceful. I learned so much from this experience. Everything was just wonderful. And that, was golden.

Golden moment #28 I know what I have to do.

It's a blurry photo, a quick snap shot someone took hastily after my senior voice recital, I'm listening to the recording that was made of the performance. I remember the song I was listening to myself sing, "Ah Je Veux Vivre". It was surreal, it was magical, it was as if the whole universe were my orchestra and I was the grand Diva on the stage of life, the whole world was my audience and everyone cheered for me, clapping their hands and calling out to me "You have found it Heidi, you have found your calling, SING!"

This old snapshot, is one of my favorite pictures any one has ever taken of me. Someone captured the moment in which I was truly, authentically, indescribably happy. I have often thought, my gift was wasted on me, because I haven't done much with it other than this. I didn't pursue music in college, I didn't finish college, and the only person who hears me sing now is my three year old.

But I can't stop. I HAVE to sing. I fall into these dreadful slumps of depression, and sit down on the floor ammidst the messes and the tantrums and as much as I love being a mommy, I just have these moments, when I look at myself and my heart breaks because I've stopped doing something I love. I can not live, and not sing. When I do, everything else starts to go gray. The purpose and reason for doing anything, starts to fade. I have to sing.

I'm not going to let this go on another minute. I don't need to be famous, or make CD's or go on tours, or have a million fans, but I do need to sing, and I do need to share it. I need to know that my voice is uplifting, encouraging, entertaining, and inspiring to someone. I need to give that. I need to share my voice. My heart is racing and I find hot tears lurking just behind my eyes as I write this, because it feels like for the first time, in a long time, I'm finally listening to a part of me that I have silenced for too long. The part of me that is ageless, and wise beyond my knowledge, the part of me that is the best and truest version of myself. She has been crying to be let out, and no excuse will hold her back any longer.

To know this is both frightening, and exciting! Stick around, because once I figure out how to load a video on here, I'll be adding a new aspect to "Domestic Diva Dishes All", the Diva part. 

-DD

Golden Moment #25 A reality check

I had a golden moment today in the realization that my life is so not perfect, but I'm happy anyway. I love people who are brave enough to confess the not so perfect moments in their life too, it keeps things real and it helps me feel not so alone out there is this big wide mommy world, which sometimes feels not so big and wide but rather confined to the 1,400 square feet I clean all day. So here is my moment of sharing life's little imperfections. I could probably tell you about a million stories, but they are most likely the same as yours (with slight variation). The point to this is, we are all in this together. You are not alone, I'm here too.

 And you know what, my kid looks a lot like yours when  eating spaghetti.

Or refurbishing your desk....(right before the family photo-shoot you scheduled at SEARS-of course.)

Or getting into your ribbon collection,

Or grabbing a snack while you take a shower.

No wonder I don't have time to pick up my art room.

Oh yes, being his mommy is a daily adventure!

And it is the greatest adventure in the world.

-The Domestic Diva