Showing posts from December, 2009

New Year

I promise myself every year that I won't make impossible resolutions.
My resolution every year is the same, to be a better me. To try harder at the things I do, to give a little more then I did the year before.
Looking back at 2009 I think I succeeded in different ways. I reached out more to my community, worked harder at being a mom and a woman. Some things need work but I am not going to dwell on the negative.
One things for sure, this coming year, I want to work on my writing. One of the reasons I switched blogs is to let go of the writing for hire and focus more on my skills, writing for me and not others.
I have a lot of hope for 2010. I have a lot of goals for 2010.
2010 is the year of Susan.
What are looking forward to in the New Year?

Someone Frame This For Me

He said my name...well not really MY name but my screen name. I am as giddy as a schoolgirl on speed, which was half my graduating class- but whatever.
If you don't know who @sutterink is you are a sad person.
Go here to follow.


No matter what you celebrate or how.
Unwrapping presents
Setting the nativity
Running naked through the evergreens.
If you light the menorah
or the kinara
I wish you and yours
Happy Holidays!


If I start my post with "I have nothing to write about" I will end up with the longest post ever. What is that called, ironic? fate? whatever? I really have been struggling to put my thoughts on paper, or computer screen. I lack any energy, sometimes the idea of taking a shower is equivalent to running a marathon, and I don't do running. Maybe it's the holiday? Maybe this shit is getting old. Maybe I need a new hobby. What do they call stamp collectors?
What has really happened is the earth is tilted in just a way to make my days suckage. I have no tolerance for people, ignorant people. I have little patience for anything. My heart races when anything, ANYTHING does not go my way.
One more then occasion this week I dreamed of stripping my clothes and laying in the cold snow. The idea of my blood thinking and everything inside of me slowing down is almost orgasmic. I want to feel my body slow down. I want to feel the shiver. I want to feel numb. I know th…


I am taking a break from the self-loathing that has become this blog to talk about tonsurephobia, or fear of haircuts. I am convinced I am the only woman in the world that hates sitting in a chair and getting her haircut. People touching my head is not relaxing to me, I hate sitting for long stretches, no matter what my couch says. I am in fear that they will totally screw my hair up and I will walk around looking like a complete and total nerd. Mostly though I can only guarantee my social graces for a span of five minutes, after five minutes I can make no promises that the things that come out of my mouth will not offend or shock you.
You would think that I have Crystal Gayle hair, but you are wrong. My thick hair causes extreme headaches so I can hold out almost a year between haircuts, then my hair feels more like a ten pound weight on my head. It actually hurts me to have hair go past my shoulder.
Now there is a lot of past incidence that caused this fear, and I am well awar…

Selfish and stuff

I have been writing post but not sharing them, I am selfish like that. I am really struggling at how much of my family's life I should share. The kids are getting older, I can sense they might not want me sharing every little thing with the world. And I don't want to either. A little piece of me feels like sharing that story of me and them and my life makes it less mine and more yours. I want it to be all mine. I am selfish like that.
I hate to bog down this space with all my worldly troubles. It is my space, but I don't want to come back here in a few days, months and years and be embarrassed. I am a mess and the last thing I want is to be reminded of, when I am not a mess, is that I was a mess. Whenever that day of non-messdom will be.
I know there is a positive energy when you release your demons, but do I have to show off all my faults to everyone? Do you have to see where I have made mistakes to make it right?
Blogging is such a fickle thing for me. One minut…

The Name in the Newspaper

They are random names, stories of the worst and the best moments of one person's lives. We are all guilty of making snap judgments, we all have the answers to the world's problems. With the Internet and the ability for every man to give their two cents brings you this blog post.
A friend just lost her sister in a horrible way. A life of drugs met her end alone, in a house deserted. Her story came to the paper and the Internet and every asshole found the need to comment. And my friend read some.
I told her to stop. I told her not to read them. I know the hurt it can cause. I have been there.
A sixteen year old murderer is news-worthy. I read the stories. I saw the things written about him. And my sister.
People adding their two cents. Their ideas of what should be done.
"Hang them high"
The mobbed was formed.
I feared for my sister's life days, weeks and months after my nephew did what he did.
I understand those who don't have the ability to sympathize wi…


This song

There is a short window for me to embrace the snow and the cold, cause things change. What once was a welcome invitation to stay inside becomes a prison. What was dust from heaven, is now the lead in my wheels. The joy of seeing the outline of my breath then the wind grows stronger, so another burden layered on.
I love what winter brings, I just hate that it stays.

Love All Ya All

Moving to blogger allowed me a little more freedom with the design of my blog, but I miss being able to e-mail my awesome readers to chat a little more. So if you are reading this feel free to contact me at mommyo2mt @ gmail . com or follow me on Twitter so we can chat more.


Today I colored. Red and blue and purple. Meg told me Boots' stomach color, I obliged. For a moment I felt completely relaxed. I realized that much of the things we regard as "childsplay" is exactly what we need more of in our adult world.
What if everyone carried around a coloring book and box of crayolas? What if, in a free minute, we did something as simple as coloring in a monkey's belly. Would we be more calm? Less stressed?
Is the answer to world peace as simple as a box of crayons?


Last night we watched as a women left her husband. Big burly men in their moving truck brought out boxes of a past life.
Today a house and a man sits alone with obese orange squash and scarecrows in a sea of Christmas lights and nativity scenes.
We pondered and speculated at what happened, things that we should avoid. Never speaking that fear.
I wanted to wrap my arms and legs around you and not let go. This is my superpower, my cure for that unspoken fear.


My anxiety makes me a total self-absorbed person. The idea of people talking about me when I am not around has entered my mind and caused great pain. Because nobody has anything better to talk about then me, right?
I say it out loud and I realize the ridiculousness of my statement of "They are talking about me," but this preexisting condition makes it hard to shake.


Today I woke up with no sense of purpose.
I don't want to have any goals today.
If nothing
or anything
gets accomplished that is enough for me.
Sometimes you just have to roll.
Give it all up
in hope there is a
higher purpose.
Tomorrow I will wake up
and rule the day.
Today I will just be.