Life Is Like My Bathroom

calmondsLife is weird, right? Like sometimes I walk into the bathroom in the morning and find strange things like a bow tie and a guitar capo in the middle of the floor or a football helmet with a towel inside it or maybe a Lego board set at an angle that appears to be intentional or maybe a scuba diver inside the mouth of a shark. A toy shark, of course, because it wouldn't be "weird" to find a real shark in the bathroom - it would be "scary".

The scuba diver was a toy too because none of us own scuba gear and it would be a different kind of "scary" to find a strange scuba diver hanging out in our bathroom. It would be "weird" if one of us did own scuba gear and put it all on and waited in the bathroom. That would be weird funny...and now I wish that I owned scuba gear for this purpose alone.

Whispered Aside ~ I could not sleep last night which might explain the digression...but...you know I love a digression so maybe I'm just feeling self-indulgent today. ~ End Whispered Aside

I try to make sense of these weird things that I find but I usually fail. I know who is responsible and I could ask what it's all about but there is something about the absurdity of it all that I appreciate.

Truly understanding it might ruin the surprise.

So, my bathroom is a lot like life: unpredictable, weird, absurd, funny, a bit cold and a little confusing.

Last week was all of those things for me.

I was thrilled when my piece for the Listen To Your Mother Twin Cities Show was published by the Huffington Post and the good and bad comments reminded me of the importance of storytelling.

For those who don't know what followed, another site took my story, distorted my message and then took pictures of my kids from my Facebook account and posted them. (The article and pictures have since been removed.)

As I start this new week, I am filled with gratitude.

I am grateful for all who read my piece and took the time to comment respectfully.

I am grateful for all those who contacted me personally to tell me that my words meant something to them.

I am grateful for Luisa who helped me deal with the misrepresentation and pictures even though she was in Trinidad.

I am grateful for every single person who offered to kick some ass on my behalf. Your protectiveness was adorable and appreciated.

I am grateful that I am able to write and that, for whatever reason, people read what I write.

I can't make sense of everything and I don't have to. Last week reminded me that, sometimes, you just need to embrace the bow ties and football helmets and sharks in the bathroom and be grateful for the unexpected.

I am learning to do just that.