Brushed With My Fingertips

    Addiction to adrenaline. Whether it is falling or climbing, crawling or screaming; whether it is terror or laughter, speed or depth. Regardless of the contributing factor I am forever and always addicted to the place that my heart and mind go when my fingertips brush the corridor of adrenaline. I have never much cared how I got my adrenaline rush only that I could have an adrenaline rush. I love the way, when adrenaline spikes through my body, how my heart erratically skips a few beats and my breath quivers in anxiety and my stomach lurches unsteadily and how my mind scrambles to find a metaphorical safe hold.
    Sometimes I watch people and how they seem only to live for the next big rush of Friday night drinking and laughter or how they live for the rush of one more paycheck or one more compliment. So many people sit back and wait for the next big, oh wait, not big at all simple and meaningless point in their life. I wonder to myself how they can content themselves with simply going to work each day and then partying on the weekend. I wonder if underneath their bright smiles and loud laughter they are covering a deep and intense craving for something that will spike their heart rate and bring out cold chills?
    Surely no one can truly be content with just one ever revolving mundane cycle of life. Surely they long for their fingertips to brush that moment that brings all your senses so alive you feel almost comatose when you come back down.
   Normalcy and routine have never been something I quite understood. Planting roots and letting them grow seems a foreign concept to me. There is too much earth to claim just one spot of earth; there is too much air to breath just one spot for the rest of your life.
    I always want to brush the edge and sometimes, I even want to fall over. The hurtle down is so much more than the view from the top.

24 Hours

A mother's love is infinite. It extends past the reaches of time and creeps into the areas no one else knows about. However, a mother's love may be infinite but it also needs a momentary rest on occassion. Our love does not stop but from time to time, our batteries wear down and they just need to be recharged. I used to think I was a bad mother for wanting a break from my children. Now I realize that it is the good mother that can admit when they are just exhausted and worn out and frazzled. I never want a long period of time away from my children because more than a day and I miss them excruciatingly. (I used to be Active Duty Navy so I know a bit about being away from my children for more than a day). No, what I need is one full day. 24 hours. 24 hours to recharge and to clear and wash away the shorted out fuses in my brain. 24 hours to not hear the word Mommy because as much as I love hearing the word Mommy sometimes I just want to hear "BrookLynne" instead. LOL. My children are wonderful and they behave and they love me. In fact, the love me so much that if I am out of their sight for more than 2 minutes (i.e. bathroom, upstairs doing laundry, in the kitchen, etc. etc.) they tear through the house yelling for me because they "really missed me and were looking for me." LOL. I call them my Hollywood Lovers because they love like Hollywood shows love. There constantly, touching constantly, hugging and kissing constantly, and just generally never wanting to be apart. I am blessed beyond measure. Right now, I need 24 hours. =) I am tired and my brain needs to unplug from Mommy-hod and plug into alone-hood for just 24 hours. LOL. 24 hours doesn't make you a bad mom, it makes you appreciate even more what you have and what you can miss when you don't have it.

Writing, Hobbies, and Excessive Ramblings

Writing and writing and writing and feeling like you will never reach the finish line and then suddenly, one day, out of nowhere, the most amazing thing happens - you find yourself writing the end!!!! Ecstatic to say the least!! LOL. Of course, in my case, I still have about sixty or so more pages to write before I can tie my wonderful ending in but then....Oh glory THEN the real fun begins. The fun of finding an agent and/or a publisher who will except the monstrosities that come out of my mind and filter down onto paper. I love my little scrap pile of words but will anyone else? Time will tell and as I am not famously known for my patience level, I do fervently hope that the time between closing line and publishing date are not tremendously long. LOL.

Hobbies. Am I the only one who can not stick with a hobby of any sort? (I adamantly discount my writing because that is simply something I have always done). I have struggled to fir the "normal" and find a hobby but unfortunately my brain is quite unreceptive to the idea. Someone mentioned to me that my children are my hobbies? Really? I am not seeing that at all. Granted, the majority of my time is devoted to them. Driving, cooking, cleaning, feeding, washing, training, disciplining, directing, listening, and advising and the list goes on and on but honestly; I cannot describe my children as hobbies but more as a part of my life. They are what I love and they are what help me every day I wake up. No.  think I shall right now refrain from referring to my living, breathing, loving children as "hobbies." So what is your hobby? How have you managed to stick your mind to it and keep it there. I think I find a new hobby and my brain quickly and promptly calculates and executes a very swift right and turn away from the hobby. LOL. Indeed, I could show you my closets and boxes full of my "hobbies" that have never been fortunate enough to see the light of a second day. Say!! Perhaps that is my hobby: to collect hobbies. I do believe I have just stumbled and staggered upon a brilliant concept. The hobby of collecting hobbies. Scratch my earlier reasoning. I DO have a hobby.

This was a ramble post and if you were unfortunate enough to stumble across it and then, in turn, unfortunate enough to read through this whole dastardly piece, I both commend you ad apologize to you at the same time. Until next time!!