Finally Cal raced out carrying a water bottle and bearing a smile.  After a hello hug we set out.  Throughout the walk Cal’s head stayed largely turned up tracking the clear water bottle as he threw it as high as he could.  Then gauging its descent, he raced to catch it again and again.  I also watched as it soared, delighting with him at how high it went and for his every catch.  I kept waiting for that bubble filled bottle to miss his grip, smash against the sizzling black top, and spew water everywhere.  I also watched, with careful concern, for it’s downward arch and stepped, with agile quickness out of its way.

The path of our walked ambled from here to there as I sought the cooling shelter of  available trees casting long, early evening shadows and Cal followed without a break in his stride or the tilt of his head, as 8 year olds are so agily capable of doing.

As we were trodding up a steady incline, the type that makes you slow your pace and breath heavier due to its continous length, he stopped throwing his bottle and asked, “What was my first word?”
I answered, a bit sadly, “You know, I don’t remember.  I was pretty sick when you were that little and some things I just don’t recall.  Remember our talking about that?”
“Oh, yeah.”  And in his effort to really get his brain more fully wrapped around “my sickness” he said, “So you must have not felt well a lot.  Like been tired and stuff.”
“Yes, that and more.  I’m only here today because of Dr. John’s skill and healing techniques.”
“I’m happy about that,” he said, I wouldn’t have wanted you to die.”  Then he paused thoughtful and added, “I’m glad I have life,”  and looked up at me and smiled.

Those five words really got to me.  They caused a question to etch across the folds of my brain, “Have I ever been glad I had life?”  I don’t recall feeling that way ever honestly.  As a child I was doing all I could to survive and endure, that pretty much consumed me and I think that that way of living continued with me even until today.  The times I felt the freest, the most at peace was on the playground that stood next door to my grandmother’s.  There I spent hours of carefree play swinging so high with my friends we all feared we might loop back over the top bar, climbing monkey bars and daring myself to stand on the top arms outstretched like the boys, teter tautering with a freind or simply running up and down it on my own or sitting at its center keeping it perfectly balanced, and sliding down what I considered the world’s highest slide.  A metal structure with about 20 stairs that had little dull claws to grab and steady the soles of the children who climbed to its full height, it had a shiny, mirror like slide that at the peak of the noon day sun would burn through our thin cotton shorts making it only for the bravest and strongest to attempt going down.  Then, when the season was right, I daily swam long hours in the “Little Pool” the round blue concrete wonder that couldn’t have been more than 2-2 1/2 feet deep at its exact center.  The spot where Robert and I would grip the metal drainage grate beneath us in order to stay submerged and compete to see who could stay under the longest.

This was where I was the happiest.  This was where I spent as many hours as I could from early morning to early evening pausing only to get lunch and then a quick dinner.  This was where there was quiet.  Peace.  A measure of safety.

I thought of that time as I examined myself and the span of my life here on this planet, asking, ”Can I say that I’ve been glad I had life?  Did I at least during my time on the playground have this feeling?”  Honestly?  No.  My time on the playground was me simply loving my time there whether with friends or alone.  At that moment.  Thankful for the freedom.  The sun warming my hair and the cool of the evening shadows as they stretched across the lawn.  It was my place of escape, for solitude away from the troubles that lay at home.

Yesterday, from the mouth of one of the most pleasent 8 year olds I know, who also happens, thankfully to be my son, came one of the most thought provoking, life and thought altering statments for me.  And I think it was so jolting due to his tender age.  To hear someone so young utter such a statement is unavoidably noteable.

So today I make it my goal to reach for the simple contentment of having life.  Not to just “put in my time” doing what I can while I’m here for the service of others, or to make a difference, or even for the need and eranest desire to be the best mom I know to be, for my children, but for me.  For the sheer pleasure of being glad that… I have life. . .

Love ya,
Theresa Jane
-Cal’s water bottle survived 50 minutes into our walk then it smashed.  And when it did it, “made the coolest pattern” rendering it worth the loss of serving as a thrist quenching fluid for Cal.  Also Dan and Grace joined us for the last 15 minutes rendering my evening a delight with my three youngest before they, with great excitment and expectation, loaded into their sisters Blessing’s car to spend the night with her at her apartment.

In the last few weeks…and months since the time Zac’s health became an issue the demands on my time have increased a ton.  I have worked as much as I did when my kids were all little and I home schooled.  Except this work falls outside of the relhm of housewife/mother.  My life has been jamming overtime.  And it wasn’t simply due to Zac and his needs.  My work has shot through the roof and I am working 6-7 days a week and often for two families in one day. I can work 9-12 hours a day several days a week.  Some days starting at 6 a.m.  Then we are planning and creating some very unique, cutting edge things with our business so in spite of the work I do to generate money, I am at meetings many times a week and working for hours on the projects. In between I squeeze my kids, maybe a movie, and some walking. Like today I worked 9:30 am-8 pm and afterwards I went to my kids house and Grace and I walked for 50 minutes in her neighborhood and talked for another half hour standing outside, by my car, in the cool of the evening and the soft light of the street lamps, surrounded by the soothing sounds of night critters.

I love these moments with my kids.  The night, the stillness, the pleasure of being and sharing…quietly…

Tonight held a specialness that was meaningful to us both.  I was able to share something with Grace that I never knew she didn’t know….
When my kids were little bitties I started collecting books and building a library for them.  Books are my thing.  Always have been since I was in second or third grade.  I even worked in a library once upon a time, when I was in highschool, and I would help the college students find resources that they were blank on how to find. Whenever they came to the library it was me the sought out.

I started my children’s library so that books would be ready and at their finger tips.  I built a library filled with classic literature, fun children’s novels series, marvelous picture book/little children’s books, ya know Seuss, I Can Read, Eric Carle, Margret Wise Brown, H. A. Rey. . .   history books of various levels 2nd-highschool.  Series of books that were known for their accuracy and being a good historical novel read.  I had science books by topic, and art books, and great novels for kids that have stood the test of time as well as were being currently published and were simply wonderful.  The library I drew together has likely two thousand volumes and it moved with us three times.  Today it resides in the finished basement of their home and until tonight my daughter had no earthly idea of its history.  She was quite young by the time I finally completed it so she didn’t know that when her brother John was 5 I started the collection by buying, at an auction, a library from an elementary school that closed and we hauled 35 tall, white boxes of books home, that I weeding through to cull out the good picture books, children classics, and the science and history ones worth keeping… probably a hundred.  Then there were the years of library sales, garage sales, and the Berry Hill Book Store in Clinton, New York that houses an incredible store, inside an old barn, that is three stores high and I can’t even tell you how deep.  The best, most organized used book store I have ever been in anywhere, ever on the planet.  We went there frequently and always to their clearance sale in the very early summer where we competed with a line of people each carrying a box to fill with his $1 a book bargain days.  We were there John, Blessing and I each with a box.  Every time we filled one John hauled it to the check out, took it to the car, dumped it, and returned for us to fill again.

I was very careful and particular with my book choices because you can own a boat load of books but have very little of real value at the end of the day.  Oh, I let the kids have random books and they enjoyed them but when it came to the library that was another matter all together…that was for the books that have and would stand the test of time.  Others that would give super educational value with ease, wonder, and fun.  And today that library is still being used.  Something I was unaware of.  Grace tells me that I have a ton of the books that the elementary school has, the one she left in the fall to move on to middle school but Cal and Dan attend.  She can’t tell me how many times Cal is disappointed that he wanted to get a certain book out of the school library and it wasn’t there and she tells him, “We have that in the basement you know?”  Then she tells me how many times she was able to do full projects for school from those same books and how thankful she was for the ones that are “resource only” at school and she couldn’t take out but she could sit on her basement floor and do her project with the same book.  This touched my heart.  I didn’t know this, being that the divorce is going on 5 years I’ve missed a lot of this sort of end of the nitty gritty of their lives simply by not being there, in the house in the swirl of the daily.  And it really didn’t seem to stand out for her to tell me till tonight.  And when I found out the books that I lovingly gathered for my children, all those years ago, for their enrichment are indeed still being used when I thought it wasn’t caused tears to swell in my eyes. My labor of love continues to give…

I love books.  They seem to grow up out of the floor boards wherever I am. 

There is so much more I could write!  But the bed beckons.

Night for now…love ya,
Theresa Jane
–Soon I will be writing about what’s current with our business. I’m excited about sharing it and looking forward to when I can. Plus I’m excited to go from planning to doing.  Can’t hardly wait. We’ve done a lot of work that is finally coming together into the most wonderful way making the work all worth while.

Blessing left out about an hour ago after watching “Did You Hear About the Morgans” with me, Grace, Dan, Cal, and Zac.  I really liked that movie, laughed a lot.  It was nice to see a movie that wan’t full of sex and language making it possible to comfortably watch something with my kids without shouting “don’t look”, while I fast forward.  Now some are watching, “Kit Kitridge”,  a movie I picked which was met with eyes rolling and them saying, “An American Girl” movie?  Oh brother.”  Well, it wasn’t but five minutes and they were hooked.  There’s been lots of laughter and a general emphasis of “movie enjoyment” the whole way through, so  I guess I know how to pick a good movie after all.  And it is.  It’s a fairly good representation of life in those times through a nice story.  Grace went to bed about an hour ago, and Dan’s head has been slumbering on his pillow for longer.  Cal and Zac on the other hand are still awake.  My night owls.  I have no idea where they get that trait from

All I can say as I wrap this post up is, I’m thankful for a wonderful day.

Night, love ya,
Theresa Jane

I love the time before my children wake.  Always have.  There’s no other time in the world like it.  A time to reflect.  A time to cherish.  A time to appreciate each one for who they are.

I hope your morning is finding you so thankful…

Good morning,
Theresa Jane

It’s so cool how one works and works and does and does and then suddenly pop, zing, you can stand back and stare at what you’ve accomplished.
So.  Soon.  Very, very soon I’ll be sharing with you… a string of completed projects.  Is that exciting or what??

Stay tuned 

Had a meeting with all of Zac’s teachers and the principle at 9 a.m. this morning…
Missed school needed to be discussed and taken into consideration.  The teachers were unaware of the severity of Zac’s condition.  Some didn’t have a clue at all.  The woman that’s in the office where does his period as an office aid, instead of gym, shared that Zac had told her he was having problems with his kidneys and that he repeatedly stated, “But it’s not life threatening.”  So, of course this had caused her to sense that something was seriously wrong with Zac’s health and even though he wasn’t expressing it verbally he’s scared and/or very concerned.

I was overwhelmingly supported by the principal with my request to lighten his load and to see what options we had with the rest of the year so that he might pass.  I was very thankful for her position and caring attitude.  She truly was my advocate during the meeting and therefore ultimately Zac’s.  In all my years of dealing with my sons health issues, both in the medical arena and school I have never had anyone step forward and without request or prodding become my advocate to such a degree, until today.

My heart was deeply, deeply touched.  Gratitude flooded me with emotion.
However, I had to suppress tears a couple times while being surprised at two of his teachers positions.  These two needed continuous reminding by the principal that Zac has serious/critical health concerns that are life threatening making his school the secondary consideration and certainly homework, needing to be done after a long day at school that tires him, was not much of a concern at all.   Here are two of the more notable moments of their input:

• One teacher went into a lengthy dissertation wanting to know if I was prepared to be responsible for Zac being passed on to high school with serious gaps in his education since his grades all year have been very low and were it’s being considered to lower his requirements all the more.  Putting him at risk all throughout high school. (which I really don’t agree with at all)
• Another teacher was gratingly disgusted that Zac didn’t seem to care to try in her class esp. after all of her offers to help him “one on one” during his lunch break.

I pointed out that several things: Zac’s health had obviously been declining before we or the doctors were aware.  Therefore it stands to reason that Zac’s grades would reflect that.  How I had also seen him decline all year but didn’t know what to make of it really.  For instance at home he was getting to where he didn’t want to do much of anything for himself anymore and I shared other bits of examples as well.  I went on to say more when the principal stepped in and took over.

• To the first she informed: that whether Zac went on to high school or not was a decision that would lie with the IEP committee and if he was moved forward than that would be their decision.
• To the second she pointed out: that Zac is a student that is in academic classes all day due to his needing academic support and to ask him to give up his one break from it is something that is unreasonable.

There was more but I think my post is long enough and you get the picture.

I will tell you I was speechless with the support and it drown out the negative from the “2″.

Overall three teachers and the principal were amazing to deal with and I’m thankful for their support that he has received and will continue to receive from them.  I do hope time and sleep will jar the others into more consciousness…

In regards to his care at school his output is being modified and they are looking into having him on a half day for the rest of the year.  So that he might not get so worn out during the week causing him to miss more school because he’s just too tire to attend.  I love the idea.  Hope that it’s possible and if it is that the doctor will write the script supporting this well thought out solution.

Night, love ya,
Theresa Jane
-the ex’s attitude was better today even when he came home as I was serving up Zac’s dinner, just before heading off to work

After my shower Cal, Grace, and I went to the bank and opened a business checking account for Free the Mind Productions.  Exciting!  Another step in the “business direction”.  While at the bank Blessing, my oldest daughter, met up with us.  She was all aglow from spending her first night in her first apartment.  I am so proud of her.  She passed through the tears and made it over the hump… out of the nest and into the world of independence.  As we browsed the door pulls at Hobby Lobby, a feature she intends to add to her kitchen door cabinets very soon, I asked her how her first night sleep went.  Was she bothered by all the new sounds and the foreignness of it all?  She said, “Not at all.  I felt perfectly at home.” 

At Walmart we both made keys for each other to exchange.  She needed another of mine since I gave Grace the one she had.  While the keys were being cut Caleb said to me, “I should have a key to your apartment for the times I come over really early and you’re still in bed.  That way you won’t have to get up and let me in.”  How can you say no to that?    Also bought another Monopoly Game for my kids so they have one for when they’re here.  The idea came from their frustration of having to pick it up and take it home every time.  I suggested that they start a game and continue to play no matter who is or isn’t here.  That’s a lot like real life… someone slacks off in their business and another, sharper, more on the ball business person grabs up their slack or a business simply tapers off because they don’t do the work to keep it alive.  However, they will pay rent to the ones that own certain property whether or not they are here, because in real life they would get those earnings.  They have to begin the game with everyone who wants to play for at least 1 1/2-2 hours so everyone has a shot at the start.  The kids loved the idea and now I have a way that I can play with them.  Monopoly requires quite a time commit.  So I typically bow out since I’m usually working while they’re here.  Now I can bounce in and out for short periods.    While at Walmart I also bought a large Rubbermaid pitcher.  One of those items that I never seem to get purchased.  The plus was that the sucker was on sale, $2.50, can you beat that??  So while Blessing chose her Kool-Aid packets, Caleb used my pitcher purchase as a reason to sway me into “finally” purchasing Kool-Aid for them.

Left my kids at 12 o’clock, still in Walmart with Blessing to go to a meeting for John Solomon and myself for the purpose of beginning to give shape to the idea that resulted from the meeting earlier this morning.   We also worked to get the new, super great mic that John Solomon has loaded onto his computer.  However with all our efforts and Apple’s support, we still don’t have lift off on this installment.  However we do have a work ticket in with the mic company…next week.

Four hours later I was one the road toward the home of the twins that I care/work for so their parents could go out.  At 7 the calls from my sons began with their requesting, then complaining that I wasn’t going to get home early enough to bring them to my house to sleep over.   Lot’s of ideas were shared.  None were going to fly.  Like, “I’m almost 11 (in 6 months) I can stay there by myself.”  Nor did it work for any older sibling stay here with them till I got back.  On the other hand Grace is here.  She was at a party that was done at 10:30.  15 minutes after I was done working.  Sarah went and got her and I met them in their driveway right about the time they got back.  She fell asleep long ago on my couch watching “The Robots” movie.  Which I left running and is just getting done.  Perfect timing.  Because I’m done…

Night, love ya,
Theresa Jane

Yesterday:
1) My lap top is dying a slow, painful death.  This I discovered yesterday.  When it wouldn’t turn on.  Nothing worked  
2) Then yesterday my mouse for my Mac up and squeeked it’s last squeek.  So getting on the internet or anything for that mattter wasn’t happening. 

SOOOOOO, last night I went to bed.  Early.  At 10:o0.  I just plum gave up.  I was sleepy anyway, I had worked allllll day, while I did I apartment hunted with Blessing, my oldest daughter, with the little boy I was watching, and had only gotten home around 8:30, however it bugged me that I didn’t get to blog.

TODAY:
Worked 9-4.  Appointment for myself and Zach with my Naturopathic Spiritiual Intuitive/Life Couch.  Then back to my kids home to hang out with them for awhile.  Then home to try to work.

1)  The laptop started up tonight.  But won’t allow me to get on the internet, even though it shows a wireless signal.  Not only that, a seriously important folder is missing.  God only knew where it went.  Till I searched around for, ohhhh, an hour plus.  I have no idea why but it’s in the shared area.  I think it was the shared area.  Not sure anymore.  Well, anyway.  I didn’t need the folder because it was backed up on a flash drive, but I did want the six page document I’ve been writing and rewriting for the last week.  I was able to print it off thankfully and save it back to the laptop’s hard drive, but not onto the flash drive.  But I have it at least!

2) I have another desk top but here’s the thing, it has been left in the barren waste land for months as it needs me to add the software protection thingy I bought from Microsoft.  I put it on my lap top first in August.  Went to put it on my desk top and hit a snag.  Have you ever tied to get help from Microsoft?  If you have you’ll realize that it is typically a lengthy process just to find the number.  If you find it.  So since all this snagging occurred right when I got my new Mac, I left it.  And  it hasn’t been turned on in months. 
Till today. 
Today I needed it. 
Today I sighed heavily and dove into getting the Live One Care onto it… 
Two hours later, reading through eyes that were begging for sleep, and much reading and clicking, and trying to find a product key and on and on and on I discover that they won’t let me do add my computer.  BUT they now offer a free virus protection product.  A free one!  I paid fifty bucks six months ago.  So as we speak it’s loading in the back ground.  I just checked and it’s doing it’s first scan.  Wonder what it’ll find??  Since I was on the internet for two hours unprotected…

TRIUMPH:
Tonight, I found “the missing disk”.  “The disk “I searched high and low for last week.  I do believe I mentioned this back then.  The day I created CD imprints and went to print them and even though the system showed that the entire software package is loaded, it didn’t recognize the printer.  After much fiddling with it I decided to uninstall and reinstall.  Wellllll, that’s when the search began.  A search I thought would take all of a minute, because I have a box specific to my computer software things.  However it wasn’t in there.  I would have sworn on a stack of Bibles that reached to the sky I put it in there.  But nopt, not there.  So I searched and I searched and then I just quit.  Tonight, it occured to me.  It was in the CD drawer of my old, unused desktop–the one that needs the virus softward–I popped open the drawer and viola!  There it was.  So all the tedidum of trying to get the software on to it paid off.

Night, Love ya,
Theresa Jane
- who is seriously looking forward to the day I can afford to hire a tech guy and let him/her work on all this “stuff” for me

Yesterday was fun.  Went to get my kids when I was done working, Dan had a skating birthday party, Grace was sleeping over at a girl friends, so that left Cal and Zac.  “Well isn’t this convenient,” I mulled around in my head?  “Hummmm, “The Book of Eli” is playing and Zac and I still have a movie ticket left over from our Christmas gifts.”  The mere suggestion to Zac that we snag this open time frame to go and we were disappearing out the door.  Cal hung out with his father till we got back… well, he hung with the computer as he loves the on-line game that he plays with friends through the internet.  He barely knew we were gone  .

Great movie is all I have to say about “The Book of Eli”, it really spoke to me about my mission that I’m on with John Solomon, John Mark, and Frances to get our book, Red Book and Cotton-Journey to True-Freedom, written by John Solomon Sandridge out to the public.  This is one powerful book with a life changing message for anyone who reads it.  Add to that a terrific and beautiful life story and you have a home run read.  Today I’ve given a lot of thought to how the movie effected me and although I’ve been sluggish with getting things accomplished, I’m inspired.

Well, it’s nearly 3 am here and I’ve really got to, “flatten the mattress” as my friend in Aussie says….
Night, Love ya,
Theresa Jane

When I came home and pulled into my parking space I spied a package setting in the threshold of my door.  A surge of excitement filled me when I realized that that could be “the book.”   The shape and size were right.   I gathered my purse from the seat next to me and with keys jangling I made it for my door, scooped up the package and read the return address…sure enough it was “the book”, “Yes, the Red Book and Cotton / Journey to True Freedom, written by my friend and business partner, John Solomon Sandridge, is here.”  I squealed to myself.  I unlocked the door, swooshed it open, dropped my keys and purse onto my table,  swept the door closed with my foot and tore the cardboard lap open on the packaging open.  Then carefully slide it out from its darkness into the light of my waiting hand, dropped the cardboard after birth onto the table with the other and stood there  just gazing at it.   “It’s here.  Months of work and finally it’s here,” I said.  I ran my hand over its front cover and read it, turned it over and did the same absorbing every detail and font.

Then I gently opened it’s front cover and was instantly transported back to 4th grade when my teacher, Mrs. Hyer, taught us how to handle our brand new math text books…”First you set the book on its spine and open its front cover flat to the desk, now the back, now take a small section of the front pages and open them and run your finger along the inside…”  As carefully as that 4th grader I opened it’s cover and viewed the fresh new insides.  Flipped through the pages of text, without opening it fully keeping in mind its newness, and  absorbed the new layout and feel.  Ahhhh, perfect.  Better than it was.

I want to say that I’ve been especially honored to be a part of the birthing of this book from editing manuscript to final copy.  As I mentioned I was one involved with editing it many times over and was a part of getting it to its first print.  But to now be on this end, the “re-do” and movement into our company, comes with it’s own unique joy.

You may notice that their is now a sub-title.  I don’t remember if I mentioned this before, but since we were in the process of having to re-do the cover and inside layout we discussed everything.  The new title came into being because the book is about so much more than slavery, it’s also about finding True-Freedom in our life and how to create it.  Ergo the subtitle.

The other occurrence  yesterday was, one of my kids was sick and throwing up…  the one I’m diligently working on restoring a relationship with.  They ending up spending the night and after a good bit of vomiting, poor thing, they felt a lot better and we talked and talked.  Which explains why there was no post yesterday.  And I want to say right here that yesterday felt like it always used to, but better, because I’ve healed and changed (changes I’m still working to make automatic rather than paying attention to myself, but I’m getting there) and so have they and we’re finding sweet harmony again.  The transition is occurring with beauty and grace.  And I am tearfully thankful.

You know?  This transition from primary care taker/stay at home mom to … their adults and you’re hands are now off, has been a sticky wick and that’s been in spite of the fact that I thought I had done what I needed to do as they moved through their teens to reach this point.

So what about today?  Lot’s of things business, seeing my kids, and Caleb ran around with me doing business. 

Night, love ya,
Theresa Jane
-who will be going to bed and it’s only 12:25, amazingly early for me 

I think it’s important to say right here I felt that THERE WERE POINTS here and there I COULD HAVE TAKEN ISSUE WITH with each of my children that has mini !BLAM!med me.

AND….
MAYBE I would have been right (or worse maybe I would’ve been wrong).
But did that really matter?
Did my being right matter more than their hurt?
Did my being right matter more their soul healing?
Did my being right matter more than their need for me to love them and admit I had been wrong.
Did my being right matter more than me RESPOND-sibly shouldering my stuff in order to assist their wounds to heal?
Not to me it wasn’t.
Because today, I’m clear enough and adult enough to say that whatever happened was how “they” had interrupted everything, and how they had been hurt by me.  Whether or not I thought it should have hurt or effected them, it had… and that’s what mattered.

You know it’s funny, if I poll my kids to see how each of them reacted to any situation I receive eight different responses to each situation.  Some will react negatively and then some more than others.  Some will shrug their shoulders and have no problem at all and wonder why the ones that do do.  Even when we’re all having fun.  Someone’s fun isn’t as great.  Or all but one of us will be saying we’re having fun and there’s one crying.

I’ll tell you what, having eight kids sure gives me a lot of examples to look at.   And a lot of voices to respond and let me know when and how you I’m wrong.  Which gives me lots of opportunity to grow as a person, if I only LISTEN.

So with that said I’ll say… bottom line what mattered was that they were hurt and I was the cause.  So why should I sweat over the details and pick apart what they said or decide if they were right or wrong?  Why? 
I had a cousin once that always used to say, “Don’t sweat the small stuff Theresa.  If you do you’ll never be able to handle the big stuff when it comes along and that’s what really matters.”

My being right, is the SMALL stuff.

And if I’m willing to listen to them, not correct them and pick over details maybe the day will come when they’ll have the ears to hear what I said when I was telling them I was sorry and why and how I was wrong or what was discussed last week may finally processes inside them and unlocks their hurt and shut down heart and open them a bit more to me…   (Doing otherwise would have been clearly heard by them and shut them right down.  Angered them.  Caused them to draw the conclusion that what they felt and had to say didn’t matter.)  And maybe, just maybe, in the future I may be able to set a detail or two straight…IF that point even matters anymore since NOW I have a healthy, happy, peaceful, loving relationship with my child…which matters MORE than details of the PAST.

Night, Love ya,
Theresa Jane
-who went from being confident about switching to being a self hosted blog to today being nervous.  If your out there let me know will you?  Leave me a comment.  Thanks