What I learned from my daughters obsession with the Biebs

Her face isn't big enough for her smile

When I say my kids (my oldest daughter in particular) are on a Justin Bieber kick, I'm not even doing it justice.  Obsession would be a more accurate description.  This is my fault.  We typically only listen to the local christian radio station in our car just so that I know they are getting some good christian influence from some where since their depraved, mouth of a sailor mom doesn't seem to cut it most days.  But one day I just couldn't take another hallelujah (Hence, needing a good christian influence) so I plugged in my pandora radio to the top 40 hits.

lo' and behold, on came Justin and it was all down hill from there.  I don't know if he was talking about being the beauty to my beast boyfriend as long as I loved him or something but whatever it was my kids were hooked!  Now every time we get in the car they ask for Justin Bieber.  (I have to record my son asking for him it sounds like 'dustn beer' so cute!)

It used to be, that as long as I put on Pandora and not that horrid christian music (going to hell in a hand basket) that would keep them satisfied.  That is, until I made the mistake of showing them the cover album of one of Justin's songs and now I have to show his picture every time a new song comes on just to pacify the natives.  My kids are so intent on listening to Justin Bieber that I had to finally break down and download the album off itunes.

Omerged!

But I have learned something from all this and not just the lyrics to his most obscure song on the album.  I learned what it means to stand up for what you believe in.  (Ironic, since the album is called Believe.  Touché Bieber, touché)

Me: singing along to Justin Bieber
My oldest: Mommy, do you like Justin Bieber?
Me: Yeah, I could be a Bieliber.
Oldest: Why?
Me: I guess it's because I'm always surprised that I like his songs.
Oldest: Why?
Me: Well,  I end up singing along to them and then I start to realize he's pretty talented.  Ugh!  Don't tell my friends I just said that.
Oldest: Why?
pause
Me:  I don't know why.  I guess I don't want them to make fun of me.
Oldest:  Why would they make fun of you?
Me:  Because they don't like Justin Bieber
Oldest: Why?
Me:  I don't know.  I wonder if it's because a lot of them have never hear what he can do because they had already written him off as a teeny bopper singer just because someone that didn't like his music told them so.
Oldest:  What's tinny opper?
Me: It's an old saying I don't think the kids use anymore to describe what young kids like.

Then I started to think that my oldest never had any problems telling people she liked Justin Bieber.  In fact, even when the response was negative she never backed down from telling people that she liked him or his music.  She's only 4 and she's already better at dealing with peer pressure then I am!  Why do we let what other people think affect the way we not only see the world but even what we allow ourselves to take in from it.

Even when I told people that we had gotten her a poster of her new favorite person we got a lot of backlash.  "Ugh! Why would you expose your daughter to such crap?!"  Because she likes it?  I understand that there is a limit to what or how your kids can express themselves.  But the Biebs is about as innocent as it comes now a days.  At least the album is.  So what if she likes Justin Bieber, I'm not going to be one more person to add to the negativity that surrounds that kid.

He's just a kid.  Justin is somebody's son too.  I have one of those.  I wouldn't want grown adults writing hateful things about my kid just because they didn't like his taste in music.  It seems a little ridiculous to me and yet we do this all the time.  We forget that there are people attached to the words that we say.  We have to stand up for what we like and believe in, even if its not popular or the status quo.  Even if your views differs from mine doesn't make it less valuable or essential to understanding the world around us.  We need everyone's likes and dislikes to build the beauty of the world around us!

Me: Do you like Justin Bieber?
Oldest: Yeah!  (enter big smile)
Me:  Then you shouldn't let anyone tell you what you should or shouldn't like just because someone else doesn't agree with you, right?

But she didn't answer.  She was too busy singing "... people want to be loved..."

Antenella

Toddlers vs Old People

I live in south florida and the beautiful thing about south florida other then the constant heat, the over grown bugs, the traffic and of course the hurricane, is the ever present plethora of old people*.  Now I don't typically have a problem with old people per say.  As long as they're not driving, or standing behind me in line or touching my newborn on the face.  Its just that they tend to be kind of frustrating.

Yes, Its beautiful.
But you'll never see it if you move down here.

I'll be honest, before kids they were the bane of my existence.  Constantly getting in my way when I had to be some where or giving me dirty looks for being so brazen with my youthful vigor.  But lately, I seem to have a much higher tolerance for them.  It all started when I started having children.  Old people became my best friends!  They would usually be the only one who would have a moment to talk to a stir-crazy mom, such as myself just killing time in Target.  Since then I have liked them a whole lot more.

I think I finally figured out why.  Because old people are the equivalent of taller toddlers!  I know we laugh about how old age turns us back into our youth but this is fo' real, yo!  

OMG!  Just like my son!

So everything kind of came to a head today at the gym.  I belong to a YMCA so it's full of old people and mom's with kids.  (My kind of place.)  I had just dropped off my precious baby angels at the kid care and was trying to make my way to the bathroom, except for the fact that there was this little old lady standing right in front of the door trying to find something in her purse.

Now, I've seen this many a time before.  My kids become so involved in trying to zip their pants or button a shirt, that they just lose all awareness of the world around them.  The problem when this happens to an old person is that you can't just gently push them out of the way like you would your toddler.  It tends to be frowned upon.  (I've tried)

So, I just had to stand there and wait until she had found your glasses or was ready to move on and as I was waiting, I briefly thought:  "I hope no one is on the other side of that door other wise she's gonna get a door in the..."

Sure enough, my mommy radar was on and I stopped the door from hitting the old lady in front of me before the old lady on the inside smacked her in the face with it.

I swear, I deal with this stuff on the playground on a daily basis. How often are we yelling at our kids to "watch out!" or "Pay attention!"and yet, here is a women, who probably drove here on her own, with the equivalent of awareness as my 2 year old?  It seriously worries me.

Other things I notice about how old people are just taller toddlers is that they both get crazy as soon as you put them in a car.  Your two year old might be the sweetest, most patient, easy going child known to man and as soon as you put that sucker in his car seat he turns into an enraged sumo wrestler.  You are fighting to get them buckled in and then you have to listen to them scream until you reach your destination.  Old people are just like this!!  You're beautiful, kind, loving grandmother gets behind the wheel of a car and she becomes Cruella De vil!  And she ain't playing!  She will run you down.

Oh no! You cut her off
by pulling into her lane five miles from her.
You are done for.

Plus, old people love to talk to you.  I actually love this part about old people.  It makes me feel more normal.  But they start talking to my already too friendly youngest daughter and I've gotta stand there for hours at a time as to not interrupt their conversation.  A lot of times I just wanna set my kids at the front of target with a little old man and just let them get to it while I get some shopping done.  (Also, not okay.)

And don't get me started on tantrums!  When an old person can't use their coupon?  Oh, forget it.  My son just watches them and picks up as many pointers as he can get.  

OOOKAAAAAY!

All these comparisons made me realize a few things.  First of all, all those people who say that your kids are only young once are lying.  Obviously, if they can make it into old age, they will have the potential to be exactly the same way they are right now.  But more importantly, it made me realize that I need to start acting more like an old person.

I need to start living my life the way my toddler sees it.  Not because I want to make it a lifestyle change but just so I can understand better what my kids are going through.  I spend so much time just watching them and thinking, "I just don't understand you."  If I could start looking at the world with the  wonder and patience as some old people,  I might be able to have the best of both worlds.  The peace of mind that comes with old age and the wonder that comes with youth.

Plus, I'll be able to fart in public and no one will say a thing.

Antenella

*When I say old people I don't mean age.  It's more of a state of mind.  So don't get all offended!  I love old people... just for a very different reason then most.

Things to Never Utter as a Parent. EVER!

Being a parent means to be intimately aware of Murphy's law.  Not only is it true but I would go so far as to say that as soon as a small child is added to the equation it's applications are instantaneous.  For example, my son (what a surprise) refuses to wear his sneakers when we go to pick up his sister from school.  He doesn't want to wear shoes at all.  I tell him that if he is going into a public place he has to wear shoes.  We compromise on his sandals, which I couldn't even get on him on till we were in the parking lot of the school anyway.  I also told him that he can't run around in his sandals because he is going to fall.  And what happens?  I don't even have to tell you,  I'll just post a picture.

Um, yes those are all bandaids.

I don't know if its karma or bad energy or just too much energy but there are just some things you can not say in front of your kids.  (And I'm not talking about the f- word.)  Its always at that very moment you look up from your hectic life and take a deep breath and think, "Hey, I think I've got a handle on this after all."  Hence my newest list of things that any sane parent should never utter aloud.  (ps: the above statement is one of them.  Don't even think it!  Your kids can hear you thinking!!!)

Things to never utter as a parent.  Ever! :

1.  Oh yes, my kids are sleeping through the night:  -  Oh mylanta! you will now spend the next three weeks in a sleep deprived stupor since you even thought these words.  I was on the phone recently and my girlfriend was asking me if my sweet baby angels were sleeping through the night and I stupidly said this!  Like and idiot!  I was tricked I tell you!  Needless to say, my youngest has woken up screaming at 3 in the morning four nights in a row.   My son has woken up twice this week having peed his bed and my oldest has been coming into our room and sleeping on the floor next to us. (sob)

They are so cute when they're sleeping...
unfortunately they never do that.

2.  The kids are being so good!:  - Really?  Who even says this?  These are so rudimentary people!  I'm embarrassed to say that I have even articulated this.  First of all, when can anyone even say this?  My kids are just varying degrees of crazed monkeys, they are never really being "good", just not as bad.  And yet, these words have been said in my household.  Again, lets just say that since uttering this statement my kids have been crying at me non-stop (and when I say non-stop I mean like, no-breaks- constant-if-one-stops-another-one-starts crying) for 6 days straight.

3.  Ice cream  (or sugar of any kind):  - This one always happens by mistake and it's usually because you are stupidly uttering one of the above statements.  It usually goes like this:  "the kids have been so good" or "the kids have been sleeping through the night, lets celebrate by getting ice cream."  and I don't know about you but it's usually because I want ice cream and this is a good way to trick my husband into buying me ice cream.  (Oh yes, I use those kids to my advantage.)  But the problem is that as soon as you say this, your children will turn into starved zombies, hell bent on getting the only thing that can satisfy their blood lust!  If you do not pull into an ice cream place within the next 3 minutes you will spend the entire time listening to bloodcurdling screaming until you want to stab yourself in the eye and swirl your brain around.  And then you will wonder why you even mentioned it in the first place.

Nothing makes them happy.

4. They look so tired!  I'm sure they'll nap:  - This one isn't usually our fault.  Its usually a neighbor or a teacher or a friend without children who say this to you.  It's usually as you are trying to usher your children into the car to get home for naps while praying they doze just enough that you can get them to their rooms and into bed but not enough that they'll wake up as soon as you turn the engine off in the driveway.  You might as well just turn to that neighbor or teacher or stupid friend and say, "Thanks for offering to watch them for the next four hours.  Mommy's gonna be at the bar... drinking... early."

and last but definitely not least,

5. Oh yes, we are completely potty trained:  - Are you kidding!?  I just have to take a moment and smack myself in the face for even thinking that this was okay to say... EVER!  I'm not kidding when I tell you that I was expressing this very thought at the same moment my son decides to pull down his pants and start peeing in the center of the circle of respectable ladies I was talking too.  Did I mention also that this was in my living room? Oh yeah.  Don't ever say this!!

And there you have it.  Another non-exhausted list of things to never ever EVER say Ever!  I unfortunately am going to have another week from hell because I read this post out loud in order to proof-read it.  Pray for me!

Antenella

Still Small Voice

Disclaimer:  *Look out!!  It's a post about Jesus!!!* 

If you know anything about me you know that I love Jesus.  A lot of the time I have a funny way of showing it but I assure you that my intentions are good.  There was a time BC (before children) that I found it very easy to talk to God.  That His still small voice could be heard in the quietest of song birds or the crashing of the sea.

totally appropriate

But since I have moved into AD (after delivery) it's become much harder to hear the small voice of God.  Between the constant screams of "Mommy!" and the old stand by of  "I want", I feared I wouldn't hear it ever again.  I was truly hoping that God would just start screaming at me the same way everyone else seems to but unfortunately for me, that's not his favorite form of communication.  Besides, if my experience with yelling at my kids had any indication on how affective it would be, I could see why he would want to save his vocal cords 

But I realize now that it hasn't stopped Him from trying to be heard.

So, I'm walking the twins out of BJ's yesterday and my youngest decides that she will absolutely refuse to get out of the little car attached to the cart while we are in the parking lot.  So, I've got one kid walking aimlessly in the parking lot while I am trying to fish my youngest out from underneath the cart all the while she is yelling "no" and kicking with full force.  

Perfect.  As I wrangle my daughter into her carseat I call for my son to get into the car.  He just stands by the cart giving me death eyes.  

"Get in the car."  I ask again all the while wrestling 22 pounds of fury into her car seat.  Nothing but the stink eye is what I'm getting from my son.  "If you don't get in here now, I'll have to spank your bum.  Make a good choice."  Nothing.  So now, I have to walk over to get him.  He knows he's in trouble and he drops to the floor like a sixth grader at her first school dance.  I grab him by the arm and get him back to his feet so that when I spank his bum he can play dead in my grasp.  Which he executes flawlessly except for the fact that he's screaming so loudly that no one would mistake him from being anything but very much alive.

Now I have two screaming kids that I've had to wrestle into their carseats.  I finally close the door and I wonder what caused this sudden meltdown (as if they need a reason) as I walk around to my side of the car.  As I get in behind the wheel I tell myself that I'm just going to pretend that the last 5 minutes didn't happen and I'm going to change the subject.

"You guys want nuggets?"

"NOOOOOOO!!"  comes the reply.

"Are you sure?  It's lunch time and Chick-fil-a is right there."

Now I'm greeted with sulking.

"Do you want chicken nuggets? Yes or no...  Anyone? ...Anyone?"  (Beuller?)

No response.

"This is your last chance.  I'm driving by it.  Bye Chick-fil-a"

As soon as we hit the red light past the restaurant there is a blood curdling scream from my son.  

"I WANT NUGGETS!!!!!!"

You knew it.

...

Really?  Really?

I precede to dive into my very own narrative as if the couple of two year olds in my back seat will actually glean any knowledge from my ranting.

"I don't understand why you are both so bent on fighting me tooth and nail!  I want to do good things for you!  I want to have fun with you and make you laugh and get you lunch and buy you fun things.  I want to do good things for you, always!  Every attempt of mine is to lavish you with nothing but gifts and praises and yet you fight me every second of every day over every little insignificant thing!  When will you learn that I want nothing but to hand out copious amounts of love and adoration on you!  Maybe one day, one day you will stop fighting me long enough to realize that I am for you."

And then I heard that still small voice that used to call to me from the beaks of birds or the smell of the ocean...

"Have you?"

Have I?  Have I realized that my father has been trying to do the same things for me my whole life, but I've been so preoccupied doing my own thing that I don't see the opportunities as the blessings that they are?  Have I taken a moment to just think that maybe, just maybe I'm right were I'm supposed to be and that all I have to do is accept what God wants to pour out abundantly over me?

Isn't that just like our God to take such simple moments and make them profound.  Showing us that even thought we've grown in size we are still the two year old children in the backseat crying over every little insignificant thing that can go wrong.

When did I forget that all He wants is to lavish his blessings on me at all times and yet I spend so much time fighting Him.  Giving every excuse of why it's not fair and yes, even going so far as to throw my very own tantrums in the parking lot.  When will I be patient enough to just trust that He knows what he's doing and I should just learn to obey?

Probably around the same time my kids are having this exact same conversation with my grandkids.

Antenella

Yay for Feces!!

I used to be the type of person that could handle anything.  There was very little that would make me gag.  In fact, before children I never gagged.  Maybe, because I just didn't have the imagination depraved enough but as it was, I just didn't get that overwhelming feeling of nausea.  Then I had children.  Scratch that.  Then I had a boy.  Let me tell you about my day.

It's nap time and I am exhausted.  My eldest is home so the idea that my son will take a nap while his favorite person in the whole wide world is downstairs watching netflix is about as fantastical as my farting rainbows.  Needless to say, I am fighting with my son to just lay down in his bed.  I try everything.  I sit with him, I sing to him, I stay as still as a statue, I bribe him.  Anything!  

Finally, I give up.  I throw my hands in the air and I tell him, "I don't care what you do as long as you let me sleep for an hour!"  So leaving my two precious baby angels to their own devices I collapse into my bed and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.  What feels like moments later, I hear a faint "Mommy?"

I'm pulled out of my stupor just long enough to grunt.  "Mommy?  Poop."  comes the reply.

"Go poop." I manage to slip out without even stirring.  For whatever reason my kids still need to ask my permission before they take a dump mommy dearest style.  I don't understand where I went wrong.

"No poop."  He insists.

When I don't answer he precedes to get louder.  So I roll over to acknowledge him with my eyes closed.  

"Yes, poop, honey.  I hear you.  Go poop."

"No, poop"  as my son smears a cold goo across my arm.

...

Nothing jolts you awake like cold poo.  Instead of jumping out of bed and immediately showering off.  I actually sit there and ponder if I am actually awake enough to keep me from falling back to sleep and if I would stay still enough to not roll around and get poop on my bedsheets.  Yeah... I should be gagging.

Finally as the smell starts to hit my nose I realize that I am actually awake now and I should probably tend to my monkey children.  My son had managed to poop in his underwear but didn't want to take them off to see if it was actually poop or not, so he just stuck his hands down his pants to feel for it.  Great.  What else did he touch between this self exploration and my sleeping arm?  Nothing like trekking through your house like a bloodhound smelling for poop.  

So now my youngest is screaming to get up from her nap and I'm realizing that the idea of getting myself a nap is a distant memory.  So I pull my youngest out of her crib, I've got my son whining at my feet and now my oldest is upstairs just wanting to be close to me.  I jump in the shower to get the rest of the poop off of me because I can't seem to get the stench out of my nostrils.

As I'm in the shower my son is screaming on the other side of the glass doors.  My oldest is sitting on the potty drawing and my youngest is adding her voice to the din of noise.  I take my jail shower, jump out, dry myself off and look at my youngest.  She is soaking wet.

"Why is she wet?"  I ask my oldest. 

"uh..."  comes her reply.  

I quickly notice that my sons potty is tipped over and missing the bowl.  OH MY-LANTA.  The best thing about potty training is that your wonderful, smart and talented child can now go to the bathroom without your help.  The worst thing about potty training is this same child can now go to the bathroom without your help.  So now, you don't know if that mini potty is empty or not and usually you don't really think about it until you make the connection between your missing bowl, your youngest covered in some mysterious liquid and your freshly cleaned carpet.

Sure enough, while I was in the shower my youngest took it upon herself to pour the urine filled potty all over herself, my carpet, and my only pair of clean pants that were lying on my bedroom floor.

Vomit.  In my mouth.  There it is!  The gagging reflex that has now become a staple of my everyday living.

Everyone back in the bath.

Antenella

Letters 3

Dear Crying Child of Mine,

I know that it has only been a few short years on this desolate rock we call home but I promise you that things will get better.  I can't even begin to understand the torment that is the daily grind of nothing but sleeping in your own bed, eating food that has been prepared for you and watching Netflix.  I don't envy the constant frustration of not being able to explain your thoughts with nothing more then a movement of the eyes and unfortunately, mind reading is still not my forte.

Yup, still don't understand you.

Let me start off by saying, I'm sorry.  I'm sorry that this terrible world is riddles with such horrendous diseases.  Namely the dreaded "common cold".  Which truly is not that common at all.  For if it was, we would in fact have a cure for such a miserable virus.  But, alas, our backward world that we live in has yet to give us the greater knowledge on how to beat such an elusive thing so we are forever fighting the battle.

I'm sorry that because our world is so disease ridden that you don't have the luxury to explore this world in your own special way.  I am so sorry that when you lick the floor mats in the doctors office or the windows to your daycare or even, dare I say it?  The tires to my mini van, that you will pick up every kind of germ there is out there.  I'm sorry.

This is the least of your worries.

I'm sorry that you don't get to experience the world with nothing more then your tastebuds.  I am beginning to understand that the magical place you lived in before coming to this terrible planet, must have been a taste only sensory world.  I'm so sorry to think that you will now have to explore your surroundings with something so dreaded as visual or physical cues.  Or even worse... verbal communication.

I parish at the thought that you must belittle yourself to such a state as having to vocally ask questions to receive even the basic of needs.  I am so sorry that I don't immediately understand your communication when you use the divine language of your people.  The sobbing that you do so naturally must have been such a strong indicator for your basic needs, especially since your use is frequent.

I am so sorry that my Neanderthal brain can not comprehend the higher language of whining, crying and some times, if I am truly blessed with your willingness to be completely open with me, your screaming.

Yes.  All I can say is, I'm sorry.  Maybe one day in the future we can work together as a primitive people and learn the beautiful language that seems to be so versatile and concise.  To think that you can have full on conversations ranging from any depth of thought starting with "what's for dinner" to even loftier abstract ideas such as "Why is Big Bird trying to change himself to fit in with the little birds that make fun of him?" with nothing more then a screech of the vocal cords, will forever be inspiring to me.

You know you saw it, and you wanted to pigeon for dinner
that night.

I know this world is full of nothing but sadness and disappointment but I promise you that if you are willing to open your mind just a little and digress enough to maybe meet us half way, it will be all worth it.  It's not so bad the world that we've created.  It serves us well enough and if you would be willing to make the effort we would accept you with open arms.

Thank you for your efforts,
Love always your stunted parent,
your mother,

Antenella

Mommy Time Out

Just recently I was able to get my very own "mommy timeout".  And I'm not talking a few hours away to get my nails done.  I'm talking about four glorious days as far away from my family as I could possibly get without leaving the country.  It was, in short, the best thing I could have ever done for myself and in turn, my family.

My husband was gracious enough to allow me the opportunity to visit an old friend in another state and I can not be more grateful. Granted, it did take me almost 4 years of begging on a daily basis before he really put some realistic thought into it.  But it was so worth every moment of groveling just to get my happy butt on a plane and fly far away from my worries, even if it was just for a few days.

leaving on a jet plane!

There is something special about taking a vacation by yourself.  As a mom, it's so easy to have an identity crisis.  First you become a wife, you change your name, you change your family, sometimes you change locations to be with your spouse.  You can change jobs, homes, schools.  Your circle of friends change and become your couple friends (if your lucky) and then you have children.  Then any shred of identity that you where clinging to is stripped away.  You don't even have the same body.  You have literally changed every single inch of who you are.

I don't know about you, but some days when I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of my mini van window, it stops me dead in my tracks.  Who is that women staring back at me?  Why does she looks so worn out?  Why do her eyes look back haunting?  And what type of body fluid is that smeared all over her shirt?

Don't get me wrong.  I wouldn't change a single minute of my life (except for maybe the witching hours between 5:30 and 7:00pm,  I would totally change that into puppies and kittens and not the monster it really is)  But at the same time I still struggle with the loss of my identity.  

Most of the time I just let time pass and I forget what I used to be like.  That's why this past weekend made me realized how important it is to still have people in your life that remember you when.

One of the best things about this weekend, other then the sleeping in till I woke up and showering without interruption and putting on makeup that wouldn't just end up smeared across my face by the end of the day, was the fact that I could truly be myself.  

I wasn't anyones mother or wife.  I wasn't the picker upper, the chauffeur, the butt wiper, the dish cleaner, the scatter brain, the bad cop, the event planner, the organizer, the maid, the chef, the do-you think-you-could-get-this-done-while-I'm-at-the-office-I-needed-it-three-days-ago...  I was just...

Me.  

And it turns out... I'm AWESOME!  I'm smart, funny and not too bad looking when I actually put some effort into it.  I'm the whole package!  (No wonder my husband married me)  And when people were referring to me, they used my name!  I know!!  I'm still elated at the very notion.  And you know what else I learned while I was gone?  I'm not actually brain dead.  

I KNOW!

It turns out that mommy brain is not permanent and that one day when we stop having to pour every single ounce of our being into someone else we may just be able to have a cohesive thought.  I couldn't believe the depth my thoughts could reach when I wasn't constantly being interrupted with "Mommy" or "I want" or "she hit me" or "He bit me",  "I want a cookie. I want a puppy. Me, me, me, me.  Mine mine, mine, mine.  Now, now, now, now"...  sigh.

Did anyone get the reference?  Anyone?

We haven't lost it ladies!  We are still the people we were deep down inside only now, we're better!  We're smarter, more compassionate, more patient, more loving.  We have the capacity to see situations for some many different perspectives.  From a wife, or a mother, or a child, or an individual.  

Going away made me realize that I haven't lost myself at all.  I'm a better me.  A person with even greater love and faith and joy.  I realize that I am slowly and painfully becoming the person I was meant to be.  Like a caterpillar trapped in a chrysalis.  We have to be broken down, quite literally (especially after my pregnancies) and recreated to be the majestic creatures we are called to be.

Most of the time it's just hard to see it among all the noise.

But if and when you get a break you will get a moment of silence.  You will get a moment of clarity.  You will get a moment of linear thought and you'll be able to recognize it.  Your mind will open up and you'll realize that you were never lost, you were here the whole time.

Antenella