First of all, forgive the run-on sentences, poor grammar, and possible chaos in this blog.

I know I said I was off but after an ambulance ride (by the way, nowhere near as cool as the ambulance scene in "About A Boy") and seeing my 3 year-old in traction, being surrounded by paramedics - well, I figured perhaps I had another blog left in me. Let me just say to anyone who ever doubts it, never underestimate how lucky you are to have someone beside you. Single parenting is by far one of the most challenging adventures of my life thus far but moreso because my heart is bigger than I ever imaged and she fills most of it up. This perfectly wonderful little one who makes everything extraordinary --- and knows precisely how to make me need to do relaxation breathing in those less than patient times. But today after a very hard fall in the Toy Story Mania 3D line, it was one of those moments. You see, in trauma, I tend to become eerily calm. It's like spooky zen. I don't have much to say (odd for me), I smile, I politely ask questions, I hold my baby's hand, hold her close, I breathe, and I just stay, well, calm. That's not to be confused with tranquil because THAT is not at all what's happening inside. Inside I'm a knot. I'm churning and wincing, and near vomit but I hide it all with an acceptable smile and a very mellow tone. I hold my baby's hand, I tell her a story, I remind her how brave she is, and then, once the ER doc tells us she's ok and I can take her home. I breathe. A little. And then I call her dad (ex-husband) to pick us up because my car is still at Disneyland. Good thing he and I are friendly.

So we get home, I pack her things because as it turns out this week is one of two she will get with just her dad this year. So they come here while I finish packing up her things, she plays like nothing has happened. I remind her that she needs to slow down or we'll end up back at the ER which now, because there were no "pokes" (i.e., shots), she actually thinks is kind of cool. Great. Now I need a new threat. Shoot! Anyway, she runs around, plays drums on every surface, all the while I'm packing up her favorite blankey and favorite "friend" and picking out the DVD's she'll take with her to daddy's. And then she hugs me tight and says, "ok mom, put me down" and she kisses me, reluctantly because in her mind, a week is 2 days, and off they go. Door closes. Churning increases, worry rears it's ugly head, and bottom lip starts quivering. Before you know it, I'm in fetal position on the bed sobbing because the thought of anything horrible or harmful happening to my little world *my child* is unbearable. Unbearable!

And then while I'm crying I realize my house is quiet. I can't call my family because they're pissed I didn't call 20 of them while in the ER, mad because a pic posted on Facebook, which in hindsight was probably stupid, but still. The realization that my family prefers to react in agitation or pointing out I didn't do something the "right" way sets in. Inside I'd like to tell them to piss off. But I just hit ignore and send a text saying, "maybe you can realize this wasn't about you and perhaps try a little something called understanding". This is when I realize how much it sucks to not have my mom. Granted she's been dead 20 years but sometimes, I think she was the only person blood related that understood me at all. Such is the life of a creative and intellectual person I think. Not to say they, my family, aren't smart, because they are, but they certainly aren't liberal in thought. In fact, and yes, here's where it explains some of my religious annoyance - my entire family (ok, wait, except Kev, you're in your own special sub-category) are right wing Christian Republicans and all of us have the issue of needing to be in control. (I know) However, we never agree agree on religion or politics and the scope of which we can talk about things is ever shrinking. Thankfully we talk of our children (and I am in love with my nieces and nephews) but in these moments, I'm not so sure we'll ever see eye to eye. Now let me clarify that I love my family and they have been there for me many times but last night I didn't need what happened. Of all nights, it just wasn't the night. I have to also say that while I complain about their views because to me, they are a little narrow minded, they have good hearts and I know they mean well, it just doesn't always turn out well. 

Anyway, my day was a little chaotic. Started out great, had a pretty intense drop, and now tomorrow I'm supposed to leave town to work on the one thing that will give us a better life, more opportunity, and give me some peace. I really need some peace. This is probably the most personal blog I'll post on here but sadly at this moment, it's easier talking to a blank blog post than those closest to me (family-wise I mean). I'm a big believer that we all screw up from time to time but today - today was NOT the day to vent to me about your issue with how I handled things. Because as a mom, I hate to say it, the only person that I HAVE to focus on and be concerned about is 3. And she's my baby and everyone else, like it or not, is secondary. It doesn't mean I don't care it just means you're not my first priority - or even my fifth. So, there it is. Do not make something that is happening within my little unit about you.

Ok. So now I wait as my little love sleeps at her dad's. I wait for the "check-in" texts to be sure that my baby has no signs of concussion or hematoma. No vomiting. No listlessness. No - anything on the 50 page handout they gave about things to do in the event of a head injury. And I cry here and there because that image of her in traction on a stiff blue board is haunting. Perhaps I should have prefaced this all with saying I am the ultimate mama bear. I will do anything for my little love. Anything. And yet this week, she's not with me and I have to trust her dad to take good care of her. When she's with me 80% of the time, that 20% is awfully quiet. And so I pack. Reluctantly. In hopes I can go on this trip. Because honestly, I feel like my limbs are cut off right now. A place to sit and think and write and be free sounds like heaven.

So that's the summation of my day and brief glimpse into my family tree (that appears to have some sort of strange bacteria festering on its branches). And now I go back to packing. Sadly I don't even know what I'm putting in the suitcase and yet somehow it's getting fuller. Amazing. Yes. I'm finally done. Off I go.

                   - George Bernard Shaw

How many times are we going to discuss gay marriage? How many times are gay couples going to be treated as some inbred cousin instead of with the dignity and respect deserved? I live in California. A state that is supposedly known for its open-mindedness and the entertainment industry. Well, I actually work in the entertainment industry. An industry that is quite evenly run by heterosexuals and homosexuals. In that world, no one cares who loves who and it doesn’t have anything to do with how they do their job. (Yes, I realize there are exceptions, but we’re going for the norm here.)

So how is it that the religious right AND Conservative Republicans got their grubby hands on the notion of gay marriage being the most sought after “pitchforks and brimstone” idea of the late 2000’s? Why, money, of course. Because clearly it’s not about social injustice when both party’s spout off wild ideas like “marriage is sacred” and...