Perspective.

I woke up this morning way too early and with the thought in my head that Dragons were breathing on me.



1. I was hot. I am fat and it was hot as dragon breath in my room.

2. How to train your dragon has been playing on repeat in my room for 3 days and in actuality it was the screeching of the movie that woke me, not a dragon bent on fatty blood.



I limped out to the coffee maker as quietly as I could. It was not children that I was afraid to wake...it was Karma. She has been experiencing excitement at an extreme level.



For instance when I wake up, she usually runs past me and over to the front door, looking at me excitedly while I growl at her and reach for my coffee carafe.



I'm sorry. COFFEE first. You pee SECOND.



Then I open the door for her and she dances outside and looks at me expectedly. Like I am going to frolic with her on the porch.



Or at night when I get home, she wags her tail so hard it practically touches her ears.



She misses our morning walks, and apparently me as well. Either that or she has dipped into the next door neighbors Meth Stash.



I miss her too.



When Emma wakes up I smile at her and she just stares at me and tries to become invisible. She knows that I want to hug her and she is uncomfortable with this lately.

Maybe its because of her boobs. Who knows.



Whatever the reason is, when I see a child that I personally squeezed out of the cavity of my body...I have an overwhelming urge to squish their body into mine, smell their hair and say something inappropriate...its sorta how I show my love.



I am touchy.



I love to feel bodies, clothing and love. I am 36 this is not going to change and it cannot be helped.

"Come here my little baaaaby" I say and reach my hands out to her.



She pouts, walks into my arms and sorta of plunks her head against my chest.



This is how 12 year old Emma shows love. She allows me to hug her. I have to just accept it and roll with it.



I squeeze her and Sing into her ear "Do you want me to dance for you?"



"No...NO...Please no."



I look affronted. Offended even "Why do you NOT want me to POP it, LOCK it and DROP it like it is hot?"



She laughs at me "That is not how it goes mom."


I move my hands very mechanically (If I do say so myself) and tilt my head "I look exactly like the girl on TV." I say in an amazed manner.



Emma covers her mouth. She is mortified at me. "No mom."



I laugh and let her go.



I have learned in the past year that something's take a bit of "thinking on" gathering information, taking a step back and putting things into perspective.