I hunger for something I can not touch
I thirst for something I can not taste
I search and can not find what it is I search for
I feel lost and frustrated
I reach out but nothing is there
I step out in front of me but I can not move
Nothing
I'm here, but I'm invisible
Why?
It is a loss that I feel
I can touch it, embrace it
I am angry. I only want to scream at the face of nothingness
I can not...it is not there
It is painful, not a sharp pain but a dull, throbbing pain
It won't leave me
It haunts me daily
I hate its ugly face
I am empty
BIO
- cookie-MOMster
- Attleboro, Massachusetss, United States
- Hi. Welcome. I created CookieMOMster because when I was a first time mom 6 years ago cookies saved me. I was in a whirlwind of sleepless nights, crying and baby drool. I ate lots of cookies and began writing. Writing had been my passion since I was young and I had forgotten how much it meant to me. It's funny how these little lives come into your life and cause chaos but at the same time allow you to re-discover yourself. Thank you to Konrad and Koby for that. So sit down have a cookie and read. I hope you enjoy my blog as much as I enjoy writing. Thanks for visiting. I'm glad you stopped by.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Paralyzed
My hand is over the flame
I feel nothing
The pin is piercing my skin
I feel nothing
My eyes burn
My throat aches
I feel nothing
Sleep comes
I am still tired
I'm awake
moving in a cloud called life
I feel nothing
My heart beats
My breath inhales and exhales
I'm numb
I'm alive
I feel nothing
The pin is piercing my skin
I feel nothing
My eyes burn
My throat aches
I feel nothing
Sleep comes
I am still tired
I'm awake
moving in a cloud called life
I feel nothing
My heart beats
My breath inhales and exhales
I'm numb
I'm alive
Monday, October 10, 2011
Ugly Dog Books, can I help you?
Swirling, twirling..faster and faster. Round and round. Up and down...
Stepping onto solid ground my head spins, my feet sway. My chest is tight. I'm sweating. It takes a minute to talk....and when I do, I shout...
I've been on the ride of MY LIFE!!
This summer I went to work on a dream...I opened a new/used bookstore! I carry speciality gift items, greeting cards and I have a writer's room. I plan on having writing workshops, write nights and book clubs! This experience has been breath taking. A thrill ride.
Life is good! Life is write for me and it feels wonderful!
"Live the life you imagined." Henry David Thoreau
Stepping onto solid ground my head spins, my feet sway. My chest is tight. I'm sweating. It takes a minute to talk....and when I do, I shout...
I've been on the ride of MY LIFE!!
This summer I went to work on a dream...I opened a new/used bookstore! I carry speciality gift items, greeting cards and I have a writer's room. I plan on having writing workshops, write nights and book clubs! This experience has been breath taking. A thrill ride.
Life is good! Life is write for me and it feels wonderful!
"Live the life you imagined." Henry David Thoreau
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Memere's Kitchen
I didn't name myself cookieMOMster for nothing. I have been in a funk lately. Writers call it writers block, I call it unable to think. I have not been able to create a piece for my blog. But today this hit me as I chewed my third, actually, most likely my fifth Chips Ahoy cookie.
The pure delight of reaching into that bright blue package. Hearing the crinkle of the bag. Grabbing the cookie, then biting off a piece. The hard crunchy bite mixed in with the sweet taste of chocolate from those cute little chips brought me back to Memere's kitchen.
Every time I went over to visit her and Pep I knew I could reach in to the cookie jar and there would be a bunch of the round yummy cookies. I always was taught to ask first, say please and thank you and not to be a pig. The first three were easy. But I'd always try to get more, sometime reaching in when Mem was in the living room while Pepere was outside.
It wasn't until my early adult age that I realized Mem tricked me. I'd always grab two cookies and chew and smile. Explaining to Mem with every bite how good these cookies are. She'd say, "well it's because I made them." Never did I question. Memere was an excellent cook. So why would I doubt the cookie? Time moved on and one day this cookie got smart. "Hey, those aren't home made."
But to this day that cookie brings me a warm, happy, cozy feeling. With each bite I am back in Memere's kitchen. I can still see the paneling. The Noah's Ark picture. The dryer. The window over the sink. The round kitchen table in the center of the small room. I can hear Pep outside doing some sort of work and I can see Mem in the kitchen cooking or folding laundry in the loving room.
It has been years since I have been inside fifty Mulberry Street- but today I went back.
It was delicious.
The pure delight of reaching into that bright blue package. Hearing the crinkle of the bag. Grabbing the cookie, then biting off a piece. The hard crunchy bite mixed in with the sweet taste of chocolate from those cute little chips brought me back to Memere's kitchen.
Every time I went over to visit her and Pep I knew I could reach in to the cookie jar and there would be a bunch of the round yummy cookies. I always was taught to ask first, say please and thank you and not to be a pig. The first three were easy. But I'd always try to get more, sometime reaching in when Mem was in the living room while Pepere was outside.
It wasn't until my early adult age that I realized Mem tricked me. I'd always grab two cookies and chew and smile. Explaining to Mem with every bite how good these cookies are. She'd say, "well it's because I made them." Never did I question. Memere was an excellent cook. So why would I doubt the cookie? Time moved on and one day this cookie got smart. "Hey, those aren't home made."
But to this day that cookie brings me a warm, happy, cozy feeling. With each bite I am back in Memere's kitchen. I can still see the paneling. The Noah's Ark picture. The dryer. The window over the sink. The round kitchen table in the center of the small room. I can hear Pep outside doing some sort of work and I can see Mem in the kitchen cooking or folding laundry in the loving room.
It has been years since I have been inside fifty Mulberry Street- but today I went back.
It was delicious.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Balloons to Heaven
It's Bampa's birthday
Hooray!
What color balloons would you like?
red for me
blue for me
green for daddy
yellow for mommy
The peaceful blue of the sky
The warmth of the sun
In a circle we stand
each with our colored balloon
1-2-3
Balloons to Heaven!
they drift upward
we watch them
they float up
Balloons to Heaven
Hooray!
What color balloons would you like?
red for me
blue for me
green for daddy
yellow for mommy
The peaceful blue of the sky
The warmth of the sun
In a circle we stand
each with our colored balloon
1-2-3
Balloons to Heaven!
they drift upward
we watch them
they float up
Balloons to Heaven
Monday, March 28, 2011
The Agony of De-feet
This past Saturday I ran (jogged) a 3 mile race. I've been running (jogging) now for 4 years. You think it would be easy or at least enjoyable. But the truth is running (jogging) for me is torture. It is a complete mental struggle. Before I even begin a race, no matter the miles, I am defeated before my sneakers cross the starting line. It begins the moment I wake up. Thoughts cross my mind....you suck. Your slow. You don't look like a runner. You could be last. Why do you do this? Seriously....WHY? Then there's the race. All the "REAL" runners are there. Looking all running like. Stretching. Warming up. Having cute, funny conversations with one another. Oh, it's a party for most....for me....it's hell. My thoughts continue to play in my head...you suck. Your slow. Usually before I jog over the starting line I'm close to tears. But I continue the task of placing one sneaker in front of the other and before I know it I'm jogging. With each mile struggles occur, pain, feet hurt, breathing...but with in these miles there are good moments too. I feel happy, alive, and I can say to myself..."self, you are doing it." "Slow and steady." And before I know it the finish line is in sight. With each moment of an up there is a down but nothing can take a way the thrill of crossing a finish line. That is the answer to the WHY...I jog because I finish. Slow and steady.
A race is like life. Not easy. Lots of emotion. Many ups and many downs. But if at the end of my life I can cross the finish line happy with no regrets I will have won the race of a lifetime.
A race is like life. Not easy. Lots of emotion. Many ups and many downs. But if at the end of my life I can cross the finish line happy with no regrets I will have won the race of a lifetime.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
LOVE
Two beautiful gifts were given to me
Two sets of eyes glowing with love when they reach out their hand and place it in mine
Two vibrant sounds of laughter are heard from a room down the hall
Two boisterous sets of feet clamoring into the house
My life has been blessed with LOVE
The LOVE of being a mom
To love with my entire heart, my entire being
I never realized it could be possible to love so deeply
As they grow so does my love
Two beautiful gifts were given to me
Two sets of eyes glowing with love when they reach out their hand and place it in mine
Two vibrant sounds of laughter are heard from a room down the hall
Two boisterous sets of feet clamoring into the house
My life has been blessed with LOVE
The LOVE of being a mom
To love with my entire heart, my entire being
I never realized it could be possible to love so deeply
As they grow so does my love
Two beautiful gifts were given to me
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Life Lessons 101
If someone were to ask me, "Kim who has taught you the most in life?"
I could answer...my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, cousins, hubby, sister, friends, teachers, college professors; even my 4 and 6 year old teach me daily. It is true, I have learned a great deal from all of the above. BUT the one who has taught me the most in life is.....
On a cold November, Saturday a very long time ago I was feeling alone. I had been separated from my first husband (I could actually use him too who taught me...but that's another blog) I was sad and empty inside. All the tears had gone- my heart broken.
I needed to heal.
I needed a friend.
So I drove myself to an animal shelter. Among the rows of sad and lonely dogs I see a beautiful, white and fluffy one. She simply sat and stared at me. All the others jumped and barked. She simply sat. I looked into her eyes and saw everything that I felt. I knew we had to be together. I took her home and named her HOPE.
We spent fourteen beautiful years together.
It was in those years that I learned....
To love unconditionally
To find joy in each day
To get excited to run in the rain and jump in the snow
To embrace the warm sun on a hot day and just rest
To take a walk and observe the miracles of nature
To curl up on a cozy bed and sleep the day away
To hug and kiss often
To be thankful for family and friends
To laugh at yourself, even when you look silly
To say sorry when you hurt the ones you love
To be gentle and kind
To never, ever give up HOPE
My dog HOPE- My life's teacher
Who is yours?
I could answer...my parents, my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, cousins, hubby, sister, friends, teachers, college professors; even my 4 and 6 year old teach me daily. It is true, I have learned a great deal from all of the above. BUT the one who has taught me the most in life is.....
On a cold November, Saturday a very long time ago I was feeling alone. I had been separated from my first husband (I could actually use him too who taught me...but that's another blog) I was sad and empty inside. All the tears had gone- my heart broken.
I needed to heal.
I needed a friend.
So I drove myself to an animal shelter. Among the rows of sad and lonely dogs I see a beautiful, white and fluffy one. She simply sat and stared at me. All the others jumped and barked. She simply sat. I looked into her eyes and saw everything that I felt. I knew we had to be together. I took her home and named her HOPE.
We spent fourteen beautiful years together.
It was in those years that I learned....
To love unconditionally
To find joy in each day
To get excited to run in the rain and jump in the snow
To embrace the warm sun on a hot day and just rest
To take a walk and observe the miracles of nature
To curl up on a cozy bed and sleep the day away
To hug and kiss often
To be thankful for family and friends
To laugh at yourself, even when you look silly
To say sorry when you hurt the ones you love
To be gentle and kind
To never, ever give up HOPE
My dog HOPE- My life's teacher
Who is yours?
Monday, January 31, 2011
5 Ways for Mom to get PEACE
Even before the alarm rings there is a wet nose poking me, telling me it's time to wake up. Then the sound of pitter patter and "Mommy it's time to get up."
So begins the day....
dogs out, breakfast for the kids, feed the dogs, get everyone dressed, out the door we go....
get the kids to school then off to work....
phones ring, text messages sound, email beeps, paper work to finish. 5 O'clock....
get my coat, get the kids, off to soccer practice, band practice, ballet.
belly grumbles- make dinner. Homework, bath time, story time, bed.....
PAUSE- breathe....CAN'T....
laundry, shoot forgot to feed the dogs, feed the dogs, bathroom is a mess, load the dishwasher, finish reports, make tomorrows lunches, clothes into dryer, sweep, mop, dust, vacuum.....
finally,.... bed.
cold wet nose on the check...."Mommy , mommy time to get up."
one eye open, UGH. 5 a.m. Instant reply ............
How does a mom get PEACE?
P...pace yourself. It's not a race.
E...embrace each day. It truly is a blessing.
A...ask for help. You don't have to be supermom.
C...cut yourself a break. You are doing great.
E...energize yourself. Do something you enjoy for 10 minutes a day.
I grab a cup of coffee with a cookie and simply sit.
Peace out to all you busy moms and anyone else who can hardly breathe because of a busy life.
So begins the day....
dogs out, breakfast for the kids, feed the dogs, get everyone dressed, out the door we go....
get the kids to school then off to work....
phones ring, text messages sound, email beeps, paper work to finish. 5 O'clock....
get my coat, get the kids, off to soccer practice, band practice, ballet.
belly grumbles- make dinner. Homework, bath time, story time, bed.....
PAUSE- breathe....CAN'T....
laundry, shoot forgot to feed the dogs, feed the dogs, bathroom is a mess, load the dishwasher, finish reports, make tomorrows lunches, clothes into dryer, sweep, mop, dust, vacuum.....
finally,.... bed.
cold wet nose on the check...."Mommy , mommy time to get up."
one eye open, UGH. 5 a.m. Instant reply ............
How does a mom get PEACE?
P...pace yourself. It's not a race.
E...embrace each day. It truly is a blessing.
A...ask for help. You don't have to be supermom.
C...cut yourself a break. You are doing great.
E...energize yourself. Do something you enjoy for 10 minutes a day.
I grab a cup of coffee with a cookie and simply sit.
Peace out to all you busy moms and anyone else who can hardly breathe because of a busy life.
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