Me And My Intuition, We’re Tight. Me And My Telepathy, We're Tighter!

So many things in life cannot be explained.

Things happen, for whatever reason, and we have no idea what powers of the universe were behind those events.

I’m one of these people who believes there are always ‘forces’ behind what’s happening in the universe.

And as many of you know, I also believe some of us are more in tune with those ‘forces’, whether they know it or not.


I’ve always had strong intuition. I don’t always trust it, but it’s always been there.

I’m also really good at guessing games.

‘Guess how many X I have, Mom?’

‘Guess what I’m thinking, Mom?’

‘Guess what the next song is going to be, Mom?’

And once I’ve given my answer, it’s usually followed by, ‘HOW did you DO that?’


No, I’m not Criss Angel's long lost sister.

Which I’m really OK with, since I think he’s SA-WEEEEETTTTT!!!!!

But like I said, me and my intuition, we’re tight.


Two things happened yesterday that made me go ‘hmmmmmm’.



Adam wanted a whistle.

He was asked to be a referee during a basketball game at school today, and he wanted to look 'official' in his role, so he decided he needed a whistle.

On a string.

Although I knew we probably had ten million whistles kicking around the house, I also knew I’d never be able to find one for today.

So, after dropping him off at basketball practice last night, I hit the Dollar Store.


Actually, I hit FOUR freakin’ Dollar Stores, in search of a whistle that was not to be found. ANYWHERE!

Adam was very disappointed when I picked him up, and told him I hadn't been successful on my search.

I suggested he ask his gym teacher if he could borrow his whistle for the game today, and didn’t really think any more about it.


Just before bed, Adam asked if I would take a look on his bookshelf for a whistle.

Adam’s shelf is OVERPACKED with books and ‘stuff’ in general.

So is the floor at the end of his bed.

I took a quick scan of the shelves, and had a peek in a few of the containers that were sitting on them.

I let my eyes roam over the shelves, and mentally called out, 'Whistle! Get your butt out here where I can see it, NOW!'

No whistle.


I gave up.

I had tried to buy or find him a whistle.

It wasn’t going to happen.

I leaned down to pick up a couple of pieces of clothes off the floor and said, ‘Ya know, Hun, the sad thing is, there are probably a BUNCH of whistles buried here under this mess that you could have taken.’

Then, I leaned down once more and said, ‘Or … you could just bring THIS one!’


Sure enough, after four different stops, and time spent searching, THERE it was ...

Sitting on the floor ... at the end of his bed ...all by itself ...nothing else around it amid the clutter ... just waiting for me to find it … almost tweeting at me ...

Was a shiny silver whistle.

On a string.

Thank you forces at work!


Yeah. Got my Mom Of The Year Award last night after all! BAM!

And really? There aren't many better feelings in this world than hearing a gasp, and seeing your child's eyes sparkle and widen, face morph into delight and that zillion watt grin when we're able to do something they didn't expect or think we could.



My other encounter yesterday, with the forces at work, were again surrounding Adam.


Night before last he was VERY upset.

He hadn’t talked to his dad in awhile.

Not on the phone. Not on Facebook/email. Not on Skype.

He had tried calling. His dad's phone was out of service.

He tried connecting with him on Skype.

His dad hadn't answer his calls.

For whatever reason, he hadn’t called or communicated with Adam on his own, and knowing everything that was going on with the flooding in Australia, Adam was worried about his dad, and was feeling VERY bad that he wasn’t able to reach him or that his dad hadn't reached out to him.


Now, as his Mom, this pissed me off, BIG TIME!

I couldn’t understand why his dad hadn’t simply picked up the phone, or sent Adam an email on his own, simply to stay in touch.

Everyone has their own situation. But I'm a firm believer that in situations of separation and divorce, it's NOT up to the KIDS to ensure those lines of communication remain open, it's up to the PARENT.

Sure, that will change once they grow and mature, but for now ... no.

I did, however, suggest that Adam might want to send his dad an email the next day, to let him know he was trying to contact him.


I can’t tell you how many times I opened an email message to him myself that night, wanting to tell him to ‘Call or email your son!!!!!’

But I didn’t.

I stayed out of it.

The EX and I aren’t exactly on good terms right now, and as far as I’m concerned, I don’t stand in the way of his relationship with his kids, but it’s up to HIM to at least MAINTAIN that relationship.


So, I held my tongue.

I held my fingers back from flying over that keyboard.

But … I sent him my message, regardless.


Oh yes.

The mental vibes were travelling at high speed from Nova Scotia to Australia that night.

‘Call your Son! Call your Son! Call your Son! Call your Son!’

I used every telepathic vibe I could muster.

Then, finally went to bed, hoping he ‘got it.’


Yesterday afternoon, Adam and I got home from work/school and Adam went up to his room to check in with his friends online.

Within thirty seconds, I heard the scream, ‘DAD SENT ME A MESSAGE!!!! DAD SENT ME A MESSAGE!!!!’

I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

Halfway around the world, and he got my message.

He heard me.

Good.

Damn. I STILL got it! ;-)


Yeah, me and my intuition, we're tight. Me and my telepathy, we're tighter!


Just two more instances, where it makes me wonder if that psychic might have been on to something, when she told me flat out that I was a Witch descendant from Salem ;-)

Ya think?!?!?


Oh … and Criss … Babe, call me! My intuition is telling me we’d have a simply magical time!!!

K.