Identity

I always say this.  I always say how I haven't been on here in nearly a year.  Yes, I know, that gets old.  Being a working mother and putting Breck through physical therapy...it isn't easy.  I look at myself in the mirror and don't recognize myself.  The tired eyes and beginning fine lines, the fuller cheeks and jaw.  I never lost all of the baby weight, though I walked two-three miles a night at one point.  At least I only gained 30 lbs last time.  And right now, I have lost all the pregnancy weight from Ace.  But I'm not Kaylea Brooks.  I am Mom.

I remember when I had the epiphany that my mother was once her own person.  It shocked me that she had a personality, and to me seeing photos of her in her youth and reading what she wrote back then made me feel like I was experiencing some mythical creature akin to a unicorn.  Yes, I was that self-absorbed.  I believe most children believe their mom is just this thing that provides and makes things better...and that's all she is until they stumble upon her past.

My personality got lost in the babies and exhaustion.  There is a constant tumult around us, so the piano, writing, and running took a back seat.  So did the makeup and nice clothes.  Now I see that my selfishness is withering away, though slowly.  But the identity, well it's not so much there.

I think they call that depression, but I call it children.  I used to think my mom was terrible for not remembering all of the parts of our childhood, but now I get it.  Survival is the default mode.  Days and night meld together, and relationships fall to the wayside, as do pleasantries and societal norms I used to follow religiously.  Why?  Because I don't have time to care about anyone but my children, and on occasions when my husband is home, him too.  I don't have time for myself, let alone too many others.  Time is a precious commodity that I spend on few, but those I invest in, I try and give the best of me.  Not that there is much of me left.  And I have a few friends who understand this.  They're the golden ones.  One specifically who is just as busy, and when we finally get together we don't feel too guilty, because we know the other understands.  Life is a raging river, and you're always trying to grab on to something solid and stay there.   Why was I in such a hurry to grow up?  They were right.

So, these days, I want to write.  Some have said I have a talent.  Maybe I do.  I just write all my feelings when they well up.  I think brutal honesty is the key to being a great writer.  There is not much else to it.

From the Wild

I will soon be a mother.  I guess this realization makes me more sentimental than I otherwise would be.  I also guess that most children, no matter how much they say they hated their hometowns growing up, long for home when they are finally grown.  I'm having a baby now, am I grown?

My home is a wild land, dry and harsh, hot, cold, empty and barren.  Phone companies such as AT&T, Verizon, and Sprint refuse to operate there since it's such a high cost area.  My father is employed at Panhandle Telephone, Inc., so I remember him explaining why no one wanted to be there.

And it's true.  No one sets out to Guymon, Goodwell, Boise City, etc., looking to start a life unless they grew up there.  Heck, I always said I would never come back, and who knows if I ever will.  And the people who grew up there are well rooted in families whose great-grandparents came for free farm and ranch land.  They are a tough people, friendly, stubborn and determined.  They come from people who stayed during the hardest time, and rode out the Great Depression, clouds of dust, and constant loss.  These are the people that didn't shudder at hard times, these active and hardworking ancestors.  They knew more than anyone what the very bottom felt like.  They also knew that helping each other was the only way to survive.

I suppose the only people coming to the panhandle looking to start a life these days are those who are brought in by the hog and beef farms, but until the 1990s, there really wasn't an influx.  I hear Guymon is growing now, changing much like other small towns.  Things are different.  The people coming in are still the hardworking type.  They're still the underdogs.

I introduce myself to people and tell them where I'm from--I take my left hand and use it as an Oklahoma map to show them where I call home.  I also explain that I'm in the part most weathermen cut off the screen.  I'm from where most politicians dismiss as unnecessary when it comes to running for things.  People really disregard us, and they shouldn't.  But you can't understand this all unless you've lived in the panhandle. 

No one wants no man's land, and when I left at 18, I drove away and didn't look back.  I didn't cry.  The big city awaited me.  The nearest "city" to Guymon is Amarillo and that's about two hours away, so you can imagine how a small-town girl felt moving to the city by herself.

It was liberating.

All the same, I can attribute a lot of my stubborn, hardworking tendencies to the panhandle that shaped my daddy, his daddy, and his daddy before him.  The same panhandle where my grandmother met my papa on Main Street.  The small, sleepy town that endures droughts, dust storms, ice and snow, tornadoes and 90 mph straight winds (trust me, our fence blew over twice) is the town that polished me.  The people, all of whom know your parents and grandparents, are friendly and they watch out for each other.  There is no road rage.  It only takes five minutes to get to the other side of town.

And really, it is a beautiful place, though there aren't any real trees.  That's the best thing about the panhandle--the sky is so open, and when the thunderheads come in bringing with them the sweet and rare smell of rain, there really isn't anything more beautiful.  Especially when they ride in during the sunset...painted pinks, oranges, and reds.  The lightning fills the sky, surrounded by super-cell mountains.  After months of arid wind, I can promise you there is nothing else that lifts a panhandler's spirits more than rain.  In fact, even when it's flooding here in the city after an overly wet season, I could never tire of it.  That's how much I love rain.

I always gripe about that drive back home, but honestly, it's always a good time to listen to my favorite music and take in the scenery and beautiful sunset clouds.  It's perfect for soul searching, because nothing does the soul more good than a long journey home to family, friends and memories.  That desert-like land will always be a part of me, and someday I'll tell Sampson all the stories I heard from my dad and grandparents.  The roots will always run deep.

Oh, oh...Here We Go!

So, I'm out of birth control.  And we're going to see what happens.  I used to be scared to death of even the thought of children--well me having children.  I kept seeing myself as a terrible mother; the thought of Breck and I not being ready dominated my thoughts on the subject.  But, it's like everyone says...is anyone ever ready?

We have two dogs, but they are relatively easy to take care of.  I work full-time, Breck is in school and will be for the next three and a half years.  What are we going to do money-wise?  I don't know.  How about time-wise?  I have no clue.  Daycare?  Jeez louise, that crap is expensive.  Where will we live then?  Ummm...yeah.

I start to wind myself up with all of these questions.  But what can I do about them?  Nothing for now.  That's where God must come in.  He needs to show up for those things.  My parents had four of us, and there wasn't always a lot of money, but we made it.  I don't remember feeling like we didn't have much.  Actually, I felt like we were well taken care of.  I have to remember that God will take care of us, like He did when I was younger.  He has up until this point.  Why would He stop now and leave us hanging?

Perfect love casts out all fear.  I should love Him and trust Him so much that there is no fear.  Just faith.  I'm learning how to do that.  It's hard for a girl that has a planner with appointments months and months away.  But I need to let Him drive my life.  I don't even know if I should have been taking birth control.  Why do we have to be in control of everything?  Why do I think my plans will work out?  They never do when I don't pray about them.  The point is, He should be leading me.  He should be the calming Peace that stills me.  Lord help me.  It will definitely be hard, but I admit, it's thrilling to let go of yet another part of my life and let Him decide.

So, with the possibility of becoming pregnant in the next few months, I'm not drinking caffeine, trying to eat healthy, and drinking tons of water.  I've been running, and I don't know if I should still be doing that.  I don't think many people read this, but if you have any tips, let me know.  I don't know what the heck I'm doing.  :)

Baby Daddy

I'm starting to feel that little tickle in my stomach.  The one that tells me that I need a cute little baby, like many of my already-parent friends.  Sigh.  If life were super simple, it would be an easy decision to make.

Last month I had a worry-fit about whether or not I would be a good mother, and blah blah blah.  But I'm really sick of worrying.  In fact, I really don't care anymore.  I want a kid.  I've been back and forth on this, so here it is.  Who's to blame for this sudden shift in attitude?  Well, you can blame my husband and how amazing he is with children.  It makes me melt.

Yesterday, he was holding a little boy in his lap, tickling him and teasing him, and I remembered one of the biggest reasons I was attracted to him.  My good gosh, he's going to be an awesome dad.  He chases our friends' kids around, lifts them up, and the children just love him.  He has a gravitational pull and all the little children just run to him.  I mean, literally.  I love the smile he gets when he's playing with them.  I love the way he talks to them.

We can't really have children right now, because he's still in college.  And after that, he's going to get his graduate degree.  So, really children aren't a possibility right now...I guess.  I also have to put him through school with a job, so yeah, it's going to be hard being the one working and having the baby.  But I don't want to wait five years.  I don't think I could.  I'm ready now.  But, I'm going to try to be patient for at least another year.  Maybe.