What I am thankful for (With Commentary):

• Eddie
• Patrick
• Dexter
• My Mom’s dogs: Bugsy and Morty
• My Mom and Dad
• Coffee
• Books (Freedom pages)
• Writing
• Creativity
• Coffee Mugs (I just took a sip)
• Bees (They make the best darn honey. Mhmm, especially in Earl Grey Tea.)
• Fuzzy Blankets (Talk about comfort and security.)
• Life Goals
• Steps towards healing
• Repentance
• Righteousness
• Holy Spirit (Our Father and Son)
• Animals (Foxes, Wolves, and Deer came to mind.)

I am as Feisty as a Fox, Warrior of a Wolf, and Delicate as a Deer.

Delicate Deerling Deer, Feisty Furlong Fox, Warrior Warren Wolf

My mind does not give up and does not disappoint. It is so strange the concepts my thoughts take me through when I dig deep into my creative cavity. Always something stored up for a rainy day. (Like today… go figure.)

I didn’t mean that in a bad way, I am a “Pluviophile.” I would rather take rain, wind, storm, hurricane, whatever to get my fix. This weather makes me feel whole inside and it always has. Autumn has always been the season I tend to have a better streak of happiness and fulfillment for the year. It’s a “safe season” of the year, to be honest.

Thinking of that, I noticed more of the bad things that happened in my life, occurred between January and end of August. (Eddie and Patrick being the exception.) They were both born and blessed us in that month amongst the bad of that month that was mentally created by myself.

I’m trying to let go of the thoughts that don’t need to be entertained in my head anymore and I guess this is my “dump space.” Attractive. I thought so… I’m starting to think that’s my catch phrase, “I thought so.” I also read that as if I was doing a Netflix standup show. You know when you take on that persona of the “funny one” and you’ve got this smirk confidence and aren’t sure how or why? What runs through our caffeinated head sometimes. Am I right? (Slaps internal forehead)

I like being in a good mood. I would say “love” but I feel that’s taking it a bit too far.

You know what’s awesome? If I turn slightly to my right, there’s an Eddie all curled up under my cozy fuzzy blanket (mentioned above…it’s not important.) When he sleeps I can see the delicate baby I held for the first time. His lips are perfect in every way. Little cherubim lips. Seriously. I’m jealous. God knew exactly what he was doing when he thought of Eddie. It’s so easy to see it in the ones we love so dear, but when we look at ourselves it’s almost like, “How?” My literal insides felt like they turned to gunk because I thought of myself. When I think of Eddie it’s light, happy, bright, and euphoric almost. Like that’s what Love is supposed to feel like. True Love. Born of, Love. How have I not realized how thankful and blessed I am until now?

I wish you could see him all wrapped up like a 6 year-old burrito baby who will eventually turn into a bomb when he wakes up. That child has energy. He could be vomiting all over himself and keep going. I’m so glad he didn’t get my immune system. We would be in a world of doctor/hospital bill hurt. I cost a pretty penny in the worst ways. (Har. Har)

Is it weird to want to … literally within writing that, I just remembered. I can make a side journal for others who want to journal or “side-bar.” I amuse myself, it’s amazing the comments made in my head all day. They need a “Real Mentally Unstable 30’s Single Mom Housewives of Jacksonville, Florida.” Believe me, it hits. That’s what’s sad. You know, you think about where you are from and why is it, normally, always the worst? I can either say…

Hey guys, I’m Betsy. Born and half-way raised in Dyer, Indiana, state of corn. Go Corn. I was raised up drinking coffee with my Papa when I was only 3 years old (could’ve been sooner, we are addicts) and watching Da Bears on Sunday NFL Game Day. Smoking his pipe and me my fake candy cigarettes (cold coffee in hand), we’d listen to the “main stream Country” of that time and I’d ride my tricycle for hours around and around the driveway, making as many left turns as would color me victorious in the Indy 500.

(Little man woke up, this will have to be a “To Be Continued…”)