Showing posts from April, 2012

Caterpillar or Butterfly?

You see that picture there?  That is a picture of me when I was 21 years old holding my sweet baby Casey, Young Me and Little Her. You see that clock on the wall? That is time ticking away.  You see that butterfly floating under the clock?  That is hope for release and peace.

No one is perfect, not mommas or children.  Children certainly don't come with instruction manuals, and there certainly isn't a competency test to have kids.  I was such an idiot when I was 21.  I could have used an instruction manual, but alas there wasn't one wrapped up with my first bundle of joy.  I made a lot of mistakes.  So many, in fact, I heard accusations of "BAD MOM" in my head like a broken record.  Ever had a lie like that happen to you, then hold onto it like it was the truth? 
Those two little words could make me lose my joy in a heartbeat.  I would hear them then hold back from my children afraid to make another mistake.  I would hold fast to the lie that wouldn't die and k…

The Flight of the Wild Goose


The picture to the left is a hybrid goose. A hybrid is a cross bred animal, in this case a domestic goose of some sort, perhaps a greylag or white goose, mixed with a wild goose. This goose resembles a wild goose in some of its physical attibutes, but its behavior more resembles that of the domesticated goose. It lolls about the shoreline waiting for hand outs. Even when an encroaching stranger comes flapping arms and legs to move them along, they don't move. They are too content waiting for their food to sound an alarm to warn of the potential danger and take flight.

Pictured below, left is the wild, Canadian Goose.  This goose, I noticed, set itself away from people.  It stationed itself and its nestlings on a more remote part of the riverbank.  You could see these geese teaching their goslings how to swim upstream, how to take flight against the current of the river, and to hunt for food.  They were racous and loud, sounding the alarm to t…