"We are each of us angels with on one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another." -- Luciano de Cresenzo
Nollaig shona duit (Happy Christmas)!
I am forever indebted to each of you for your inspiration, support, guidance, and friendship. I wish you love, light, and laughter this coming year. May the time fly unti our boys return to us.
Siochan leat (Peace be with you)!
This is really, truly all over the place random. Read at your own risk.
I'm starting to wonder if I should bother continuing to post my stories in the LJ communities. I don't read many stories here (well, period, unless I know the writer or someone rec's a story) and so I didn't realize that I'd been posting my chapters incorrectly in the communities all this time. No one told me. Not that that is an excuse; I could have been more observant and figured that out for myself.
But with this most recent chapter of Weapon and the Wound, I had two people school me on how to do it better. Quite honestly? It's a lot of work. And I don't really get many comments. 'Course... maybe I don't get comments because I've been doing it wrong. Who knows. I'm just wondering if it's worth it. Does that sound bad?
The parents visited this weekend. Their visits always leave me feeling oddly hung over. Like the only thing that will make "it" better is a glass of wine and a good cry. It wasn't bad, per se. Nothing traumatic or scarring occured. But enough sideways comments and backwards insults were tossed my way that I feel slightly bruised. Mo Chuisle loved having their attention, though. And she didn't hear the jibes. She didn't see the looks. She only saw love, and that both buoyed me and broke my heart.
I didn't have the courage to be completely honest with them about something. I'll know more after next week, but it may very well be the case that I can't have any more babies. I'll be 35 in January, and I'm having a little bit of trouble with that. Which is odd, actually, because my husband and I have said we weren't sure we wanted any others. But to not be able to... it's just somehow different.
My mother made a few comments about Mo Chuisle's eventual siblings -- innocent enough when you're a grandma who wants a lot of grandbabies around you (to more easily criticize their mothers because of how they're being raised... sorry... bitterness rearing up there). I could've have stopped her with a few sentences, but honestly? I was afraid of the whole level of "well, what have you done to yourself" type questions that would raise.
I was a bit of a rebel before they got here, though. My rebelions are innocent enough. I didn't drink until I was 21, my first kiss was when I was 23, and my husband was my first and only lover. I never snuck out of the house, and while I have been ticketed for having a lead foot on more than one occasion, I've never been arrested. I am the only one of all the kids in my family that can say that. Perhaps their rebellion is my fault; I did raise two of them after all.
Anyway, my rebellions are my music -- I've always had a penchent for rock, modern and classic, listened to LOUDLY -- my tattoos -- I have two and will be getting a third when I go to see thruterryseyes mid-January -- and my hair color, which is subject to change. Just before the parents came, I got my hairs cut, got the red caught up, and put a stripe of dark black on the left side of my head, somewhat under the bangs and side hair so that I could kinda cover it. But when I tuck my hair behind my ears, the color change is dramatic.
I love it. Mom was... less than pleased. Which, like a total child, made me love it more.
You ever look at your relationship with your parents and fear for your relationship with your child/children? Mo Chuisle and I are connected in a way I never felt with my mother. And she's two (my baby, not my mother). I am working to take these life lessons and mold them into a connection with my daughter that is 70% parent and guide, and 30% friend and confident. I want her to trust me, to honor me, to know that even if it's "bad," she can still tell me.
I am so excited about Christmas on Thursday. Her big blue eyes just light up with the idea of magic and "prizes" which she calls presents. She is going to be a fantastic, wonderful, joyful handful. :) I am giddy in love with her. *laugh*
deangirl1 asked that I consider posting some of my Virtual Season stories during the wait for Chapter 3 of Weapon and the Wound. I'm still a tad gun-shy about those, though I do intend to post them at some point. I thought perhaps to get me started in releasing them in another forum besides the one that still has painful memories, I'd start with my 2007 Christmas fic, A Midnight Clear. It was written for the 2007 collection of VS Christmas offerings, but because there were no limitations, I set it in Season 3. It was my first Season 3 story and was written before A Very Supernatural Christmas aired, so it's basically AU. Canon-ish AU, if there is such a thing. I may just post it here and on ff.net, though. Save the trouble of the communities.
Okay, enough ramble. I wish anyone reading this a safe and wonderful holiday and light and laughter as you start your New Year.