Arise, Awaken.

I miss my son. And when I say that, I mean that I am choosing to not be present with him and am missing out on him. I am choosing to be overwhelmed by life. I am choosing to value what other people think of me, value what a total stranger's opinion is of me to the point that I am an anxious, depleted wreck and then lashing out at my son for being "another thing to take care of." I am consumed by my ego, consumed by my need to fit in, to be accepted, to be okay in the eyes of others. I am driven to be enough, to be worthy and this need is exhausting me and leaving my son abandoned in my presence. I am always in my head, worrying about the conversation I had yesterday with my new coworker (did I sound smart enough, I wonder what she thinks about me), worrying about what my parents think about me (I had to borrow money from them again, I'm such a fuck up), still obsessing about what me ex boyfriend said about me three years ago (...your body is deformed). I worry, worry, worry. I have compusive, obsessive thoughts that keep my distracted from what is really happening in my life, right now, in the moment. Like, "They're going to think you're a total anxious wreck, Amber, if you write this," and "Don't you want to come off sounding like you've got it together?" I can't stop the thoughts and they suck the blood out of me, draining me of all energy. And then my son comes into the room and I'm annoyed because he wants me to play with him.

I hate to admit it but I have to admit it. I have labeled him a nuisance. A mosquito, flying around my head, buzzing into my ear and disturbing my stupor. I swat him away but he always comes back, wanting to drain the life out of me. I'm so ashamed that I've decided to see him this way. Oh, Jack, I am so sorry I've done that. And now you're almost two and I don't remember much of this year with you except that it's been hard. I remember wanting to get away from you and I remember wanting to just sleep. Sleep. But you always wake me up.

When you were tiny, Jack, everyone said to me, "This time is so precious and it goes by so fast. Treasure this time with him while he's small." And I did. I really made an effort to be present with you, even when it was hard. I guess hearing people say it, over and over to me, "treasure this time, treasure this time, treasure this time," I really got how important it was to resist the urge to be overwhelmed and instead savor the moment, every moment. I guess I still need to hear it said. Amber, treasure this time. I have missed an entire year with you, Jack.

Where did it go? To worrying about what people think about my messy house. To wishing I was thin. To complaining about my job and traffic and finding things to feel miserable about. And you were there, the whole time. In your carseat. In your crib. In your pajamas in my bathroom as I put on my makeup. How did I miss you?

You have always called me to be awake, Jack. You have refused to let me sleep and I have resisted you. But tonight I will accept your invitation, once again, to stay awake with y0u. I am so glad you're here to pull me out of my slumber, to slap me into awareness where you are, where vibrancy is, where Life is. I don't want to go through life sleepwalking. I don't want to miss out on you anymore.

I don't want to miss out on Life, anymore. I want to be where you are, where spontaneity and joy erupt without thinking, where a seashell holds great wonder and mystery, where there is no fear of what others are thinking so no experience is scary, where sharing my cookie is fun because I don't know lack. Where taking a bath is the biggest delight of the day, next to brushing my teeth. Where I'm free to squeal with delight when I see someone I love. And likewise, I can totally unravel and know that I am loved, still. Where unconditional love isn't my reality and only constant, unending love, is.

It's my intention to go there with you, Jack, and to help you stay there. Maybe we all have to step outside of it to know that we want it, again. And when you do, I'll be here waiting for you.

Cute, cute, cutity cute cute cute!

This precious little baby will some day be on American Idol and this will be the "flashback" video they show before she gets on stage and blows the entire nation away. I want to eat her, she's so cute.

Dear Jack

Dear Jack,

I cried while putting you to bed tonight. As we rocked in the chair, your little bundle of a body in its tight, red pajamas all cuddled up into my arms, I cried knowing that tomorrow you go to daycare and tomorrow I go to work. We will be going our separate ways for the first time since you were born, 21 months ago. Tonight was the last step on our path together and before us the road divides, a fork taking us down our individual journeys as two souls. I have been carrying us a long time and I have been so proud to be the one who has brought you this far. I have loved every aching moment of it, even when I felt alone, even when I felt afraid, even when I felt lost. You were with me all along and look... we're here.

I'm not afraid. I'm not worried about you, Jack, because I have done a good job in getting you here in the condition you're in. You're miraculous and brilliant and so totally equipped to meet your path. You are confident and compassionate and you light up every room that you are in. You bring your blanky to kids who are crying and you dance like a mofo when the music kicks in. You are a bright light, a light that I have fostered into brilliance, and I am not afraid.

But I am sad that this part of our journey is over. I am sad to see your littleness go away; lean, muscular legs now stand where chubby poofs used to be. Your fingers, once gasping and erratic, now form themselves easily around toys and tools as you maneuver your way through the day. And I am grieving the moments that I missed because I chose to be out of the now, out of the moment, worrying about some negative future fantasy that didn't even exist. I am ashamed of how I resisted your constant invitations to be present with you, in the moment, and instead became angry and called you a nuisance. You have been calling me forward into awakening and I have resisted you. I am sorry, Jack. Please forgive me.

I know you're not going away, and it's not like you're leaving for college tomorrow. But you are leaving my arms for eight hours a day to experience the world in your own way. This is where it begins...

I love you, Jackaroo. And I always will.

Mommy.

Be the Change You Wish To See In The World. -Ghandi

Dear Ms.Kern,

I feel compelled to write to you and express the deep sadness that I experienced when listening to you speak with your constituents about other human beings who have a different sexual preference than yours. I am not going to try to change your mind about what you believe or tell you that you are right or wrong. I'm sure you're getting plenty of hate mail about this and I do not wish to contribute to the hatred. I do encourage you to look at how your behavior may contributing to the hatred in our country. Do you want to be contributing to the sum total of hatred in the planet, or to the sum total of acceptance, loving, and peace?

You are in my thoughts and prayers and I am sending you, your constituents, your state, our country and our planet light now.

Amber Rice. San Diego, California

This is the letter I just emailed to Sally Kern, the Oklahoma State Representative who delivered a speech over the weekend in which was devastatingly toxic, demeaning and hateful. Apparently, she was confronted about it and she defended her stance and did not apologize. A part of me becomes so enraged and wants to tear her a new asshole for spewing such ignorance and poison across the planet. Another part of me felt such compassion and sadness for her and I was compelled to sit in prayer and send her loving light. One of my professors at USM told me the the only way to peace is to let go of any "against-ness" inside of myself. I think he might be right. So, I have chosen to embrace Sally Kern not because I condone her behavior but because I choose to be what she has not yet become: accepting, compassionate, and embracing. Send her your loving thoughts, and send up a prayer that we may come through this more enlightened, more loving, more accepting, and more embracing than we were before. And so it is.

If this issue matters to you and you feel compelled to take some action, here's the contact information for Sally Kern:

Capitol Address:
2300 N. Lincoln Blvd. Room 332
Oklahoma City, OK 73105
(405) 557-7348.

District Address:
2713 Sterling Ave.,
Oklahoma City, OK 73127.

Email: sallykern@okhouse.gov or srkern@cox.net

My baby daddy

Meet Jack's siblings!
Can you guess who the father is?

To check your answers, go to the comments.

By the way, this website is SO addicting.

Squirrels, Nerf Bats and Chicken Curry.

The first place I went to was so hot and the air so stuck that I felt like I had walked into my second grade classroom, but decorated like a Persian woman's home and with the spicy sweet smell of chicken curry hanging like cigarette smoke. I was trying to be open-minded, overshooting my "I'm not prejudice" bounds by going to Azizah's home, the first name on the daycare provider list for my area. I was ashamed at my first instinct to skip over her and move on to Melissa Jones, and over corrected by immediately imagining Azizah and I becoming best friends after she teaches me to belly dance and I drag her out to a karaoke bar. There was also some rich fantasy of how Jack would grow up in this fertile soil of multicultural boundlessness, all worldly and appreciative, and someday decide to become the President of Earth, the One who embraces all. Turns out that her house was just too damn stuffy. That, and I didn't like the way the kids at her house all had such vacant eyes, like they had been ignored all day and fed melaril for lunch.

The second place I went to I was greeted by a woman with a mullet wearing her keys on an "I love Jesus" lanyard around her neck and a tattoo on her right forearm that was so fuzzy and faded that it must have predated me. She opened the door for me to reveal a whole slew of children in her living room, several of which were crying, one that was jumping on the couch and another that was sitting two inches away from an episode of Spongebob on TV. There was a general feeling of anarchy and lawlessness that was confirmed when I watched one boy whack another boy with a nerf bat and nothing was done about it. Okeeeee....

The third one I went to I didn't even make it in the door. They had their garage door open and what appeared to be about 75 years worth of hoarding old scraps of furniture, clothing, and newspapers crammed inside. Sending my child to be raised by someone with OCD, I am not.

Choosing who is going to raise my child for me while I am at work is freaky shit. I mean, this is who is going to be standing in for me from the hours of 8am to 5pm. Are they going to hold him when he bumps his head? Are they going to teach him that he doesn't deserve to be hit by another child with a nerf bat by placing that child into time out? Are they going to kiss his nose before he takes his nap and tickle him when he wants to wrestle? How do mothers do this?

And as if I don't have enough to worry about, now I have to be leery of squirrels:

Get on Board!

This is one peace train that you don't want to miss. It's not too late to go get the book, watch the first webcast of Oprah and Eckhart, and see what all of the buzz is about.