.The Greatest Love.

Of all the things I don't believe in anymore, romance was the easiest to let go. God knows I've probably never been in love and now I realize it too. Infatuation is an illusion, a distraction, a crutch for a broken soul. But Loving and being In Love are two different things...I've loved enough for a thousand hearts, because what is love but caring about someone and caring about what happens to them? I've wished them well on their journeys and thought of them on mine, but no one has ever been Home. They remember me a pretty face, legs for days, dangerous curves. I remember me using parts of myself to patch up their old wounds. There's more of me now than there was before both in the flesh and in the spirit and it's finally enough to fill the gaps and empty spaces, gild the cracks with gold and wear them like jewelry. You may think me a fool to turn you away but, my darling, you're the fool. You weren't the feather in my cap or the jewel in my crown...I'm the jewel, goddamnit. I'm the sparkle and the shine and the glittering symbol of my own queendom. I'll leave you with my perfume on your shirt on your own empty bedpost and I'll curl up with myself tonight, because I'm the greatest love I'll ever know.

.The Newest Adventure.

What is it about learning that you're becoming a mother that changes you so completely?

I don't know, it hasn't happened yet.

In the five days since I discovered that I am expecting, I have waivered in between various states of shock, panic, and sheer terror. THERE IS A TINY HUMAN BEING INSIDE MY BODY. I, the girl who forgets to feed the dog and has spent my entire life floating from place to place with no cares in the world, am going to be responsible for a little baby boy.

Oh, sweet Jesus, bless his teeny heart...I apologize in advance.

But underneath the anxiety, I know that we're going to be okay. I have a great support system in the form of my momma and my grandma who have been holding my hand through the whole process, easing my paranoia and laughing at my discomfort as only a woman who has been there can...I think I'm dying half the time, but they assure me that I'm not really, and that this is nothing compared to what's coming in the next few months (thanks, thanks a whole lot).

I find myself worrying when I lay down at night. How will I teach this little boy everything he'll need to know about being a good man? Will his daddy someday be around to teach him, or will I have to figure it out on my own? How will I protect him from all the bullshit in the world that surrounds him, when it seems that there is more and more sadness and anger and negativity and pure evil every single day? Will there still be sagebrush country for him to ride when he grows up? So many questions and I have no answers.

Still, I look at the women that raised me and the men that served as father figures to me, and all the wonderful people that helped me through life and taught me the things I know and I am confident that my son will be surrounded by the best people there are to grow up with. He'll have a few good wings to huddle under and a few good brains to pick, and somewhere along the way I'm sure he'll grow up having learned all he needs to be okay in the life he'll make for himself one day.

I used to pray for a good man to love forever. I had no idea that one would be made from my own heart. It isn't what I had in mind, but creation knows what its doing. So for now, I'm going to get used to the flutters in my tummy and not being able to button my pants, and look forward to what's coming. After all, it's only once in a lifetime that a girl goes on the adventure of being a brand-new momma.

.Never Too Old.

There's nothing I'd rather do than spend an afternoon in the dirt with my mom. I can watch her work a horse for hours. I soak it in when she takes the time to watch me work one, pointing out where I could use more finesse, more patience. When I was younger, it used to drive me crazy because I thought she was nagging, but now I wish I had paid more attention...how much better a horsewoman would I be if I had? We're such different minds. She has such energy and presence, I am timid and soft. She has patience. It's no secret that I have none. But she can teach me, if anyone can.

She knows my strengths and my weaknesses like no one else, she knows how to guide me to compensate for them. She makes me laugh when I'm so frustrated I'm about to cry. She does her best to tread lightly and let me figure things out in my own time, but she doesn't let me forget that I am tough enough, strong enough, smart enough. She doesn't push or force, and she doesn't hold me back when I'm ready to try something new. She handles me like she does her colts, her outlaws...she sets me up to succeed, but she expects me to try.

 "My mother is the bones of my spine, keeping me straight and true." I don't remember who wrote this, but it's from some book I read somewhere. And it's the most accurate statement I can make about my mom. She is my backbone, never letting me forget that I am capable and intelligent even when I don't feel very much like it.

I used to think there'd come a time when I wouldn't need her or when I'd be old enough to stop being told. Now I don't ever want that time to come, because that woman is so full of things to know and I want to know everything that she knows. I want to be as able as she is. I want to be half the woman she is (I can hear her making a smartass comment about pant size right now).

I will never, ever be too old to stop learning from my mother.