Wednesday, September 4, 2013

{Back to School, Back to Writing} He Held the Keys

We stood not ten feet apart from each other.

Eyes locked, I was not backing down.

So much rage, no more room for fear.

Standing in the darkness,

I was not backing down.

The reason didn't matter, he was mad.

He was always mad.

I wasn't good enough.

It didn't matter anymore,

I was not backing down.

Not this time.

This time I'd make him do something.

Not just yell,

Not just belittle me,

Telling me I'm worthless.

This time, I was not backing down.

He would not hit me,

Although I had wish he would.

Then people might see him for what was,

An abusive husband.

I was not backing down.

I was leaving.

No more.

I deserved better than this.

I deserved to be loved.

I was leaving.

21 years old was not supposed to be like this.

I was leaving.

I turned.

I heard something whiz by my head.

I hadn't noticed he had been holding the keys.

He had missed!

I left.

I had held my ground.

I had gotten out.


14 years ago I was married to, well, a jerk.  And after counseling I realized it wasn't going to get any better and decided something had to change.  I don't think I had told anyone about how he treated me but, I think, on some level, my mother knew.  And I want to thank her, Thank you, Mom.  You helped lead me to the counseling and you helped give me the courage to leave.  I love you.


I'm writing with Creative Should, getting Back to School, Back to Writing. Come join the fun.

Monday, September 2, 2013

{Back to School, Back to Writing} By the Dashboard Lights

How many hours spent moving?
How many hours spent traveling?

this nomadic life

every three years
a new place
a new house
new friends
a new me?

every three years
longing for roots
a place to call home

family feels so far away at times
all the miles in between
so many road trips
so many miles

watching children grow up in pictures
longing for the days I could just play with them
now they're grown
starting their own road trips

so many miles logged
so many miles spent staring out the window
wondering about the passing farm house
what life must be like growing up surrounded by corn
not traffic
not noise

in the quiet of the night
on the road for so long
the kids are finally asleep
no more yelling
no more tears

in the quiet of the night
I'm almost home
traveling the miles for family
taking as many moments as I can
before they grow up

in the quiet of the night
by the dashboard light
I catch a glimpse of my babies
already growing
already well traveled
already nomadic


In the 18 years since I graduated high school I've lived in three different countries, seven different states, and have moved a total of 12 times.  Each of my children have already lived in two states and the youngest has visited 10.


Are you interesting in getting back to writing?  Join Creative Soul and get Back to School, Back to Writing.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

{Back to School, Back to Writing} The Beginning

I want chocolate!

What does that have to do with "The Beginning?"

I have no idea, I simply want chocolate.

The Beginning

I've spent much time the past two weeks preparing for a new year of Homeschooling.

I'm working on being more...
more prepared
more organized
more purposeful
more diligent

I'm learning what it means to model behavior.

Telling my children how important it is to read but never taking the time to read.

Teaching my children how to write but never sitting down to pen a letter
or write in a journal.

They occasionally see me on the computer but only my oldest has figured out that this is a type of writing.

So this year I'm starting fresh

I'm beginning anew

While learning about writing, I'll be writing with them

While learning about reading, I'll be reading to them {not just at bedtime}

We'll be memorizing poetry together

I'm not just teaching my children history and math, reading and writing, Latin and English grammar- I'm teaching them how to learn

And I'm learning
                   that it to be modeled.

I'm joining Creative Soul and following the daily prompts in effort to get back into the habit of writing. To show my children, words matter.