Monday, November 9, 2009


This is where I am Today. This is all I can do, each and every moment. It's my only way out of my own insanity. Its the only thing I can do to stay balanced.

Christmas Crazy!!

We had a 5 inch black and white TV. I slept on the bed that also converted to the dining table seat. We lived in a camp trailer on the banks of the Columbia River in Rowena, Oregon. My mom was pregnant with a baby, and for the moment, it was just the two of us. I was 6 years old. She was just 25.

When my mom got to the point of being close to delivering her baby in mid December, we moved to my mom's friend's house temporarily. It had gotten so cold, and she couldn't afford the propane to heat our little place. I brought along my two prized possessions, a Kermit the Frog who could wrap his arms and legs around you with velcro, and a Holly Hobby that was my rag doll.

I stayed in my mom's friend's son's room,(we will call him Max.) where he had shelves and boxes full of toys, and books. I was in awe at all his "stuff", even if it was for BOYS. Being an only child, Max had a hard time sharing, and I was sooo jealous.

The night before Christmas I played a bunny in the local church play, and the church handed my mom a box full of food for a Christmas dinner. My mom was embarrassed, but thankful. She handed it right over to her friend as a payment thank you for allowing us to stay there.
I had a little stocking, and I so hoped Santa Claus was going to come. Both Max and I tried to stay up all night, and listen for Santa, and we both heard him clearly. He exclaimed that our room was a mess. That was it. "What a messy room!" he said. We were ashamed. I was terrified that Santa had decided I had been bad because of Max's messy room, and I cried for the rest of the night.

In the morning, my mom wasn't there. She was at the hospital giving birth to her baby. I wanted to go and see her right away, to meet my baby sibling, but no one would take me to her. Instead the grown ups re-directed me to my stocking, and the Christmas tree. The tree was LOADED with gifts, and my 6 year old heart was warmed by the thought that maybe I hadn't been so bad after all.

In my stocking was some candy, and a small plastic Victorian style doll. Her eyes opened and closed when you laid her down or stood her up. I examined her, and moved her arms and legs, which immediately popped out of their sockets. I wasn't impressed. Nothing compared to my Holly Hobby rag doll. But I was smart enough to feign joy. I had gotten really good at lying and saying that my tears were tears of gladness.

Max's stocking was overflowing.

All the presents but one under the tree were for Max's family. I opened my one pretty package, which said "From Santa", and I opened up a flannel red plaid ruffly nightgown. I didn't know what to say. I WAS thankful for a nice warm nightgown. BUT at 6 years of age I saw the unfairness right away, and began to question everything. Maybe I was bad after all.

My thoughts turned to my mom, who I was missing sorely. SHE would have cuddled me. SHE would have helped to make everything better, because we were a team. AND she was having my baby sister, who I couldn't wait to meet. She was going to be our present.

Several days later, when my mom finally did come home, she came home without our baby. I didn't understand! I had so hoped for a sister to be my best friend. Mom looked so sad. She came home empty handed. She had given our baby to a childless couple. She said it was the best Christmas gift she could offer this family who couldn't have someone like me. She said She was blessed with me. the reality was, she didn't think she could afford to raise this baby. Her friend that we lived with convinced her that it was the moral thing to do. I was devastated. That was supposed to be MY Christmas gift. Which would have been the best gift ever.

That year was the hardest Christmas we had ever had. Being poor. Feeling shamed. There were so many lessons for me as a child there. So many lessons for my mom.

The great thing is, I am not in that same place now. Neither is my mother. But there ARE kids who are. Kids who are on some corporate wish list because their family can't afford to give them anything. Things like sweaters, and socks, and warm winter coats.

My friend over at Burghbaby is taking this Christmas into her own hands, and has created Christmas Crazy! Her goal is to raise $1000.00 so that she can go out and buy some kick ass toys to stuff a toy drive bus for kids that were just like me that year.
So, if you have anything to give, I would be entirely grateful if you would go a little Crazy for Christmas, and support the fund. I promise it will make you feel better. And I promise, she won't be buying some little plastic doll whose arms and legs simply fall out of their sockets. go CHRISTMAS CRAZY!!

Sunday, November 8, 2009


Life has taken us all by storm, and has begun to whirl us around like a cartwheel. We are in a momentum that shows no sign of slowing. It is November, and the year has swirled by me so incredibly fast that it is feeling like a constant state of adaptation. Preparing for a baby creates an inner chaos for all of my family.

Memories are resurfacing for me. Memories of my childhood, of my former pregnancies, and all that was a part of creating it. Nostalgic, saddened, joyful views flood my consciousness, and I feel like I am living within the walls of my memories that I had once forgotten, not locked in, no... but a state of daydreams of re-memberings.

Lessons are being learned, compassion for my child self. Understandings of my mother, of my former husband, and his family. Curiosity of my future with my beloved and this new life we have created together. Making peace with my children, when they are going through the same things I did when I was their age. Appreciation of those children of mine. My heart swelling with love for them. Noticing all that I am blessed with.

I sit back as if I am watching a movie of my life, as it is played on a reality channel, and I revel in the thought that this is OK. Or This needs to change. Or whispering the word "Peace" to myself to calm my heart when it is troubled.

As I said to a friend in an email "It seems for me, right now, I am doing my work. Not my life's work, but some emotional, relationship work. Maybe I analyze myself and my misgivings too much. Maybe I try to have some kind of control over situations where it's not meant to be. But I try to figure myself out. Constantly. Does that make sense?"

I hear my higher self whispering to me "OPEN" Open. So that's all I can do. Open.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Settling in

The last few weeks have been a lesson unto themselves, and learning to navigate my own unpaved roads has made it a journey that is both vastly intimidating, as well as an adventure I wouldn't have any other way.

The wise say that "God only gives you as much as you can handle". I truly believe that is partly true. I want to add that The UNIVERSE gives you exactly what you need at exactly the right time. You make the choice to use the tools in your toolbox that you are equipped with, or you struggle.

The weddings I have been officiating have been such a gift this year. I so enjoyed each and everyone of them. Each and every person I came into contact with, and If I could do that everyday, I think it would be the best job in the world.

As the weather gets colder I find myself shedding that summer life, that open, loud, exuberant Dina, and allow space for the introspective, soft, curious woman to move forward. As my body responds to this amazing miracle of growing a person, and as I surrender to it, letting there be joy in the ever expandion of my body, the roundness of my cheeks, and saying yes to my body's needs instead of fighting it, I settle in.
Settling in to the dark of the coming winter. Settling in to allowing for Spirit to completely take over my life. Settling in to joy of this coming miracle that everyone around me is so excited about.
Settling in and remembering to breathe.

Hubby and I have decided to take the reins of this pregnancy and are standing against mainstream birthing. We are choosing to make this a spiritual experience. We are walking toward a better understanding of each others needs, and that means our communication has become wide open.
We found an excellent tool to help us achieve this process called "Hypnobabies", and are both so delighted and excited to be going through this class. The facilitator is fantastic, and we have asked her to be our Doula as well.
This birthing process reminds me of all I have been through lately. That process of becoming born. Of Growing, and changing, of evolving. Of surrendering to the unknown. Of letting there be space for whatever is meant to be, and just experiencing every moment.

As I sit by the window right at this very moment watching the glow of the sun fading to the other side of the world, and seeing the bare naked trees shadowed in the foreground. Feeling the chill of the night air seeping through, we welcome the night. The time of the dark. Where everyone and everything goes to asleep. As fall evolves into winter we settle in. we hibernate, we snuggle together. We find quiet treasures, and for me, I simply wait.