If you’ve been around for a quick minute, you are well aware of RBF or resting bitch face. It’s the unintentional facial expression that makes a person look like they are … Continue reading Resting Rose Face
So you’ve probably noticed a few changes around here.
So what’s up with “Conjure” replacing “Legos”?
I feel like life is a little more than kid related. Don’t get me wrong, being a mom is something I take pretty seriously. It’s what I do. It’s my job. But, I’ve gotten to a point where I feel that it defines all of what I am. At some point a while back I stopped being Angela completely. I’m tired of that. And if I want that to change, I have to change it with myself first. And to do that, I have to nurture the parts of myself I want to grow.
The esoteric and arcane been something that I have been filled with for a very, very long time. If you’d like to read more about this, check out my post Angela, Ascending here. My journey into finding and practicing my craft is important to me. I’ve neglected the song playing in my soul for too long. I need to listen and find my way back to it again. I might as well chronicle it here.
This doesn’t mean that everything is going to turn into being about spirituality. There’s still going to be the normal bullshit. Its still a personal/lifestyle blog, so you’ll get to keep on hearing about my everyday adventures. My journey through domestica is one that I feel is worth sharing. There’s some sort of crazy magic in everyday life. I think that we often overlook it because we’re inundated with the desire for something extravagant. We’re always pushed to want something better or something new. I think you can be simple and fabulous at the same time. I think that finding the perfectness in everyday chaos is an important battle. I’d like to share mine.
Also, Legos is a copyrighted term. Me and my dumb self never gave that any thought before. Lego building blocks are everywhere in our house. All four of my kiddos love them. So being surrounded by them I figured they would make a catchy title. And it did! At least to me. I hope to like make this blog legit one day, so looking ahead, it might be wise to pull the name out. Id like to spare me any sort of legal discourse. The previous posts, under the legosandcoffee name, are still available.
I also jazzed up the look of the blog. Sometimes you have to try a new color of lipstick to feel better. Hopefull, it makes the blog more appealing. My long term goal, like I stated above, it to move this from a side gig (lets not shit ourselves, “an often forgotten gig” would be more accurate) to a major thing. I follow some awesome bloggers around the internet. Women that have inspired and challenged me. I’d like to jump into the big kids pool and see if I can swim. (Spoiler alert: I can’t. Water is my foe.)
I hope you enjoy the changes. I really dig them. I think this will help me to be more active and, hopefully, interesting.
I remember sitting cross legged on the floor of the bookstore, running my fingers over the spines of the books on the bottom shelf. Tucked in the back corner of the small store, no one noticed the monumental moment that was about to happen. My pre teen brain was a storm of anxiousness and contentment. Slowly I zeroed in on a purple covered book written by an author with a perfectly picked New Age-y pseudonym. I pulled the book from the shelf and my life was changed. A magical moment had just occurred.
I was in a mall in North Carolina and I was just about to purchase my first book on witchcraft.
That book would not be the first time younger me had been pulled towards the nonconventional. I think I was born with one foot in and one foot out of this world. My dad would tell stories about how once I began to talk, I would tell him and my mother about the “Old Timey Days”, or my life before. I have no clear memory of these stories. Just a faint haze like a billboard passed at night. According to my dad though, they were yarns that a preschool kid shouldn’t be able to think up. What I do remember, even back in those pre school days, is feeling like there was more to the world than what everyone else saw.
Religion was an odd thing in my home growing up. We didn’t go to church or practice anything really, but the idea of God was the ultimate rule. Like when I was 8 and wanted to get my ears pierced, the answer was “If God had wanted you to have holes in your ears, you’d been born with them.” This line of reasoning continued until I finally bit the bullet and got them done at 17.
I never could accept that idea. Christianity never sat right with me. Who was God and why was he the only one? Why did we have to perform by these certain rules to please him? What about all these stories in mythology and lore? Why can’t they be as true as the stories from the Bible? No matter who I asked, no one had answers for me. Most people told me I was wrong to even ask. So that’s when I turned to literature.
I was always checking out horror novels and collections of ghost stories. I read a lot as a kid. I had some physical ailments that, at least in my mother’s eyes, limited what I could do. So that kept my nose in a book. It was in those worlds that I found things to believe in. The gray ghost of the Carolina coast, the poor women who were burned at the stake in Salem, the shamans and medicine men that were here before us white folk landed. Those were things I had faith in. The supernatural became something I found, well, natural.
That belief never left. I grew up as the weird kid. Now I’m the weird mom. But lately, this weird mom has been feeling dimmed, forgotten, and overworked. It’s the classic caregiver’s problem. You give so much of yourself, you don’t have any left over. I let my interest in the supernatural and paranormal wane so I could focus on dinners and school, milestones, and laundry. I gave up my magic. And I’ve been struggling without it.
I want to capture some of that feeling from the bookstore again. After getting my wake up call from the Universe, I’m ready to go explore. I’m ready to re-embrace what for so long has made who I really and truly am.
It’s time to ascend. And that’s just what I’m going to do.
I fucking suck.
Here’s the deal. I always have these ideas in my head of things I want to do. But there’s this thing inside of my head that prevents me from doing things I like to do. I start and notice how much enjoyment they bring me and I get totally on board with them and then, BOOM. The feelings start. Like old friends that forget you until they need something, they show up. Suddenly, the my inner monologue is being delivered by my mother’s voice and I realize that I’m not good at what I’m doing. I realize that I’m taking time away from my motherly and wifely duties by doing my things. So, I bury a seed in the shame I cultivate inside and stop doing my thing to watch it bloom. Who would have guessed that seed grows into a Venus fly trap and tries to eat me whole?
It’s a constant struggle. Most times, I give in and accept that I am not good enough to warrant doing anything. Why bother when I’ll just fail? Do you know how many things I’ve missed out on because of this? So fucking many.
Guys, I’ve got more issues than something that has a lot of issues. I’m a mess. But still, I try. And right now, I’m plucking those teeth from my skin and getting ready to try again. I need to focus on the things that set my soul on fire. I need to focus on me.
A blog where I talk about myself sounds like a a good idea.
So let’s do this, again.
Sight: The unholy mess that is my computer table. I’m a messy person. It’s how my brain works best. But this mess is overtaking me. Kid shoes, uncut patterns, grocery circulars…just a whole bunch of crazy. Tomorrow will be Tidy It Up Friday.
Hearing: WWE Smackdown is on TV right now, so I’m listening to that. Also, the box fan we have in the room to cool is pretty damn loud. As the weather has gotten warmer, that sound has become a normal part of the background.
Smell: My hands smell like the chips I ate just a bit ago. It’s been a while since I’ve had chips, so I went a little bonkers. They were Ruffles! They had Ridges!
Taste: I’m drinking some water to wash away the saltiness from the chips. How creepy of a question would this be ? “Hey gurl, what you tasting?” Um, vomit?
Touch: I am painfully aware of how hard my computer chair is. It’s a wooden dinner table chair because my original chair died a horrible death and we’ve yet to replace it. Also, the keys on my keyboard. Its a gaming keyboard that my husband passed on to me. The keys have such a nice texture to them. They make typing really easy. As an added bonus, my right wrist is hurting like an ass. I’m not sure what I did to injury it, but it had been aggravating me for weeks. Even with a brace it’s uncomfortable.
On the superficial side of things, I am really, really, REALLY afraid of ants. Here in the Southern U.S. we have big nasty fire ants. They seriously are like Satan’s public lice. They are everywhere and are just waiting to crawl on your feet, up your legs and bite the shit out of you.
Many moons ago, when I was a little girl, during an Easter family get together, my little dumb ass walked between two ant hills. And BOOM! Those motherfuckers starting attacking my chubby legs like an all you can eat buffet. My Great Uncle Ray snatched me up, ran me inside to the kitchen and threw me in the sink, pretty little dress ,panty hose and all. My legs were polka dotted with ant bites. It was horrible.
On a much deeper level, Im afraid of turning into my mother and pushing everyone in my life away. I don’t want the mental struggles I go through to hinder and hurt the people I love. I don’t want to be so deformed by my mental anguish, so poisoned and bitter, that I continue the cycle and infect my babies with it. I don’t want them growing up with the same shit I have in my head in theirs. They deserve better. I deserved better.
So, I know this isnt part of the prompt, I’m working on making myself better. I talked with L today about this very thing. And when I told him that I felt that he and the kids deserved better than a crazy, over emotional me he was quick to remind me that I too deserved it. And he’s right. We all deserve happiness and contentment. Especially with our selves. Our worries can not be the largest feeling we have. Love should be. Self love especially.
This one is pretty hard. I really love quotes and have a few that have rented rooms inside my head. Some of them have no meaning in everyday life (“Zed’s dead,baby. Zed’s dead.”) and others feel like they were created just for me (“Believe me, nothing is trivial.”)
But this one, since I read it the first time, really struck a cord.
Now, I’ve seen it attributed to both Mother Theresa and Konstantin Josef Jirecek. Regardless, it has so much meaning to me. Especially the last part. I never had a safety net. I never had a cheering section behind me. What Ive learned, Ive taught myself. And a lot of the time, I was wrong. But now, because of the shit Ive carried myself through, Im sure I can do anything.
I get to blog early today because BOTH BABIES ARE SLEEPING AT THE SAME TIME.
This is like the planets aligning on the day you win the lottery. It just doesn’t happen. So, Im trying to make the most of it. Today’s challenge theme is ’20 facts about you’. Let’s knock this out:
- I hate watermelon and watermelon flavored items. I don’t care what you say, I find it gross. Me not eating watermelon means there’s more for you guys, so you really should thank me.
- I also hate onions. Its a texture thing, not a taste thing.
- I am missing the following body parts: tonsils, adenoids, appendix, wisdom teeth and the nails on both of my big toes.
- I’ve had three surgeries on my right knee. It’s still a fucking mess.
- I’m afraid of ants.
- I’m lactose intolerant. It makes me sad.
- I’ve lived on both sides of America and in Germany.
- It took me three tries to get my driving license when I was in high school. A few years later, it would take me three times to get my DOD sponsor driving license when we lived in Germany.
- I’m afraid of clowns thanks to Tim Curry and Stephen King.
- I’ve spent years trying to overcome a horrible Southern accent. If I’m tired or have been in my cups, it comes roaring out.
- I like sewing. I’m not great, but I’ve made a few things I’m proud of.
- I had to take a multi hour long break here because the babies woke up and I had to go pick up the other one and then dinner and showers and etc,etc. So this fact is that no time of my waking hours is really my time. Im devoted to this wild bunch of misfits.
- I struggle with depression and anxiety on a daily basis.
- I’m a reformed nail biter.
- My husband and I met at a thrift store.
- Pizza is life. Glorious, glorious pizza.
- My first dogs name was Tippy.
- I have a slight fear of prescription medicine. My mother abused pills when I was a kid and it really left a mark on me. I’m even hesitant to take OTC pain relievers.
- Other than my nerdy fandoms (Supernatural,Doctor Who,Star Trek, etc) Im also a fan of auto racing, professional wrestling, MMA, and football.
- I’ve made it to 20! This might be the most I’ve talked about myself in along time. So I will try to end it with something good. When I was a kid I wanted to run away to Nashville and become a singer/songwriter. But I can’t sing and never learned to play guitar. That never really panned out.
Now you know a shit ton more about me than you did before!
Ok, let’s do this!
I’ve never been good at introductions, so let’s just hit the basics.
I’m Angela. I’m in my early 30s and I’m allergic to penicillin. I’m a long time nerd and weirdo. One of my feet is slightly bigger than the other and I’m right handed. I’m the opposite of a perfectionist. I’m a “eh,thats good enough”ist. I like to craft. Sewing is what I’m focusing on right now. I really love to sew, even if my projects are hit or miss. I also really love photography. Like sewing, its still hit or miss for me, but Im getting better. I lost my desire to create anything for a while and am slowly regaining it. I’m doing a photography challenge on Facebook that’s made me fall in love with my camera again. It’s pretty awesome. While writing this, I’m drinking a PBR and watching The Twilight Zone. I’m sure that says something about me as a person.
I’ve been married for almost 11 years to my best friend who I will affectionately call Mr. L. We got married pretty young and have done some pretty incredible things. The most incredible are our four children.
Az was our first son and oldest child. He was born in Washington State on a cold day. When he was born, I became a different, better person. He was super smart and super sweet. I use the word was because he passed away November 2011, a week before my birthday. It was totally unforseen and unexpected. Every single day, every hour, I still hurt and long for him. He was my first best friend. He was a gift to the world. He still is.
Jo our little Bean Boy. He is quickly approaching his 8th birthday. He’s hilarious and kind and just a little high strung. He has ADHD and is currently in second grade. School has been hard for him, but I totally think that things are starting to look up. He loves making things out of clay and video games, just like his daddy.
Des is our little quiet giant. He is three and likes to play pretend. He really likes to play pretend. His current favorite thing is to make a story up using his fingers as people. He has beautiful blue eyes. His current favorite things is the new car seat we upgraded him to. He practically begs to go “bye bye” so he can ride in it.
And the baby is Miss Mar. She is our surprise baby. We didn’t plan on her showing up, or being a her for the matter, but she did. And although she is sassy and loud, she is amazing. Sometimes I can’t believe she’s real. She loves kitties and likes to burp. She likes to help and is constantly underfoot. She’s our own little Arya Underfoot.
My orgin story is kind of shitty. I had an abusive, narcissistic mother and an apathetic father. I was the scapegoat of the family. I’ve been no contact with them for a long time. I’m still working through mess that was left by that life. I will probably hit on that whole mess later.
I don’t know what else to say! I feel like I’ve said so much without saying anything. Talking about myself has always felt weird. At least I’ve completed Day 1 of this challenge. Self high five for that!