Why FB? I asked the little bird. The little bird hasn’t tweeted yet.

fat little bird


So I thought we were all getting along just fine.  And then there was Myspace.  I got that figured out (finally) and then I had to get on board with facebook.  Okay, I am friended! And I am even liked and like things ( I shouldn’t).   But now in order to stay hip or with it or cool (or whatever I am trying to do) I have to tweet and blog.  Getting that figured out (check!) and now in order to work, apparently I also have to  linkn, elance, and tweak my own web site so I can use adwords and adsense from google!  Whew!  How do people find the time much less the online time?  I actually have very good friends (no names) who I regularly forgive for facebook updating and tweaking tweets while lunching with me.  It is normal and par for the online, social-mediaing (new words all over the place because of all this too.  Have you noticed?  Has your phone accepted the word “texted” yet?  Mine hasn’t.  But that is because it is over three years old.) course.

Bad News Books

I need to be literary inspired again.  When I was young, I would blast through a book in  a day.  Now I check out a book from the library and hate it before I get through the first page.  I try to know before I bring it home.  I read some random page at the library.  I look for content and style and get it if I am motivated.  How does this always happen to me that I don’t figure out how much I hate it until after I get it home and check it out?!  I am done!  So it is time for you to inspire me.  Let me know which books I should read.  Thank you!

Ready or Not, Here Next Comes

Okay, I did it.  I just kept on keeping on.  I did it alone and I did it for a long time.  Nobody told me how or told me to stop trying.  So I did it all.  I had babies and kept them alive.  I had a life and friends and a home and things.  I even had tupperware.  Fake tupperware, but serviceable.  I had pets and bible studies and parties and I baked thanksgiving turkeys which served guests on matching plates.  And I filled out FAFSAS and worked for the summers and bought used cars and packed them full and went on road trips.  I cried when I moved away from home and I left my Mom and Dad.  I graduated colleges and succeeded at teaching jobs and failed at jobs I wish I hadn’t.

If I did cease to exist on this planet and went on to bigger and better things, finally, I could say that I did good things.  I could say that I accomplished a lot.  I could say that I cooked a mean turkey and knew how to raise babies.  I could say I went to some great schools and know how to fill out a form or two.

I could also say, though, that I am afraid that I haven’t done enough.  I can say that I am afraid that for the sake of doing the best by my children, I have not done the best by myself or rather for myself.  I really don’t know.  Somehow it is all a blur of survival and happiness, survival and joy, survival and succession, survival and next, next, next.  There has never been time for thought or planning or questions about what should be next, only what is next.  Next just inevitably comes at every turn, without fear or wondering.  Next happens whether I am ready or not.

And then there has always been my struggle.  My constant in this world is that I can not maintain the physical world the same way others do.  The physical to me is like a runaway pet.  I try to keep it under control, tie it up, keep it tame, as it were, and it always gets away from me.  I try to hide the out of control, ugly shameful hinderance and it always shows itself.  I went years without it showing.  I fooled the world.  I even made children with my physical body.  But I couldn’t hide it for long. After a time, the ugly showed again, the struggle came back, and I had to fight again.  Then I had another short run of time without a fight.  And then, again, a struggle.  And then death and life again.  It is my pattern.  and every time I repeat the pattern of win, fight, death, life, cheat, run, hide, strife, struggle.  And again: win, fight, death, life, cheat, run, hide, strife, struggle – it gets a little worse, a bit harder to do, to maintain.  And every time I pull through the victor of my own challenge, I am a little more tired, a littlle more weary of the fight, the struggle, the challenge of this life.

If I could stay asleep a bit longer sometimes, I would.  I need the good dreams of this waking life to keep me interested and excited.  My children are my dream now.  I have done everything else.  And I have no more future than them.  I am excited about their future.  They give me my reasons for staying and fighting.  Or, quite simply, I woulnd’t.  It is just too hard a fight without them.

Grand Knowing You

I am endeavoring. To launch myself. To get myself out there. And I was once. I was out there, singing, doing the me thing. Then I had kids. Cliche. Perhaps. But it has been and still is about them. I love it, being a mom. But I am supposed to put myself out there and be positive about me while always putting them first so that I can make money to one again, yes, put them first. What a tangled web … Or something.

Now, I have to sing, teach, make money, lead, mother, be the amazing me that I owe it to my amazing parents to be. Oh, help.

Aside: I remember a favorite line from a favorite movie – “Oh, help.” Courtesy of Maria Von Trapp, pre Von Trapp. She meets the kids, wants to help them and in a pseudo-prayer to the heavens and in part to her self says, “Oh, help.” I related then and relate now.

Marina Bina, the “Bean” as in Kidney, of Course (thanks Cici)

So here you are. You found me. It is high time I write something here. This is my page on the very fancy, highly acclaimed (at least within the family), Troxell.com. Admittedly, I have been a slacker when it comes to updating my pages, dashboards, albums, facebook pictures or any other collections created for posterity.
I will sincerely try to return, upload, attach and show you photos and immediate family updates as often as possible.

Not only do I feel I owe it to my children to remain dutiful in the area of online and hard copy photo sharing and journaling; I also owe it to my dear family. They really don’t get a fair share of their close relatives who live so far away (so sorry!).

I ask for your forgiveness in advance for my tendency to ramble on all things related to my children. They are the very heart of me. I will endeavor to make my reports brief and to the point.

And off we go!