a new year's eve post

In the process of changing the look around here. I know it's stark. There is something about the New Year, I begin to crave simple. Less is more. Maybe it's the blessings and abundance of Christmas. I go into overload and start to look around my small family's bungalow wondering what I can donate to Good Will. I wasted no time this year. I've already gotten rid of one bag of used items. I always hope the theme of simplicity will carry throughout the year. Inevitably, I end up doing major cleaning each season getting rid of those things that seemed to be a good idea at the time...but never got used.

I've been talking about changing the look of my blog for some time now. Well start with the bare minimum and see how I build. At the end of every year I find myself reflecting on the year past and what's to come. This year I've taken notice of this fabulous blogger and am choosing some words to carry me into 2009. The words (because despite myself I couldn't choose just one) are Vitality and Balance. I've also decided to share more here from my personal writings... so I promise there's more to come.

Here are some things I'm planning to share:
-my list of things I'd like to do in 2009
-my list from 2008 (a reflection)
-writing on my words for 2009

How do you clear space and prepare for the New Year?

Cheers!

post christmas post

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. Our little family spent time with friends and had time to snuggle in together. What more could someone ask for? We also got some great gifts. The little boy is only going to get more and more excited about this time of year. I enjoyed getting to wrap presents in front of him, only to give to him later...love that short memory.

I've been an absent blogger as of late. I'm thinking about remodeling. I'm hoping for the New Year I can pull something together. We'll see how it goes. I'm really crummy with that sort of thing. Or rather, I get great ideas...it's making them a reality I struggle with.

blogger blahs

After a few weeks hiatus, I'm back...for now. I can't make any promises about how long it will last. Or what my new pattern of blogging will be. But I thought I should get something in for the month of December. So here is what's up with the joyful ordinary: I'm working on removing the words "I'm sorry" from my vocabulary. Not because the phrase isn't sometimes useful but because after a brief self survey I've found that I say I'm sorry way too much. If something goes wrong, I'm sorry. If I didn't catch everything, I'm sorry. If something doesn't turn out the way I planned, I'm sorry. I apologize for things out of my control. I apologize for other people's feelings. I need to increase my vocabulary and learn to speak to what it is I really want to communicate because one person cannot possibly be sorry as often as I am.

In other news, yesterday I had some sense knocked into me...or rather some gratitude. I was cleaning our bedroom when the large mirror that has sat on our dresser for years fell over on top of me and hit me in the back of the head. It took me a few moments to realize what happened and then determine that I wasn't going to be knocked unconscious. It took me even longer to realize I wasn't bleeding. Even later after that I realized I was covered in little slivers of glass that I had now scattered throughout our house as I wandered around in a daze. I immediately called my hubby who rushed home. Once the shock wore off the gratitude snuck in. I was immediately grateful the little boy who is sometimes attached to my hip wasn't in the room when it happened. I was glad to have such a wonderful husband who rushed home to dote on my and make sure I was okay. Then I started thinking about the crappy mood I was in before it happened. It only takes an escape from the emergency room to realize all of the things that are going right in my life.

So there you have it. No apologies, a broken mirror and a grateful heart.

happy thanksgiving

Today I am grateful for: sunrises, the ability to make meaning of seemingly random events, personalizing, my family (when I say family I'm referring to my hubby and the little boy), the realization that I have created my own family, really deep restorative sleep, good coffee, brand new days, cold weather, quiet time to myself well spent. I'm grateful for the ability to be thankful and for learning and self reflection, for change - whether political, a changed mind, a new season, a new healthy habit. I'm grateful for my body and its amazing powers to conduct life, to heal, to process and to transform. It's like I live in a miraculous organic transformation machine - put material in and presto, into energy. I see something amiss in my world and I can use that energy to help manifest change. I am grateful for waking up early without an alarm because I've gotten enough sleep. I'm grateful for the ability to help others. I'm grateful for growth, especially my own. I'm grateful for my journey.

blogger throws in the towel after 19 days

After blogging for 19 days straight for NaBloPoMo I dropped the ball. I don't even have a good excuse ... the good news is I have some time to think of one. Now that I'm not feeling the pressure to come up with something every day maybe I can come up with something creative. Probably not though. Maybe next year.

grope and whine thursdays

What's up with children's' songs? Recently I was given a CD of children's' songs...things like Ring Around the Roses and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I love to sing all kinds of songs, mostly children's' songs, to my little one. But I've never been a good singer (despite desperate pleadings to God when I was a child to someday make me a singer/ rock star, I wanted to be able to belt out tunes like Mariah Carey. I even wrote him a letter.) so I've never taken singing very seriously. This seems very fitting and appropriate when singing songs about imaginary lands and little lullaby lulls. So I really struggle to listen to this disc, in which there is a tone of severity and seriousness (maybe it's just the English accents). There's no hint of laughter or silliness. You'd think these guys were singing at an opera or wake. How can someone be serious when singing about covering up the obvious and distasteful effects of the Black Plague to an infant? Maybe I'm reaching at things here, over examining and being critical ...or maybe I can dedicate a Thursday Theme: Grope and Whine Thursdays. I'm going with the latter. What seemingly small insignificant things bug the crap out of you?

an overactive imagination

Wow, I was just looking at the picture I posted yesterday...someday I'll have to learn to photograph my work, well.

So last night the little one was up and fussing because he is forever teething and now has a stuffy nose and gets upset that he can't breath through it. He isn't old enough to learn the trick about lying just so till all the snot runs to one side of your head then breathing out the other nostril. Anyhow he's up, I'm up. And I notice a flashing blue light coming from our family room. Blink, blink, blink then a pause...then blink, blink....pause...blink, blink, blink. What in tarnation? I investigate. It's our Wii. I shut it off. It turns back on. Blink, blink, blink. I can't explain it.

My theory this far: Wii was really created by superbeings from another planet who are fascinated by us. They designed the Wii which only looks and acts like a video game console to us. Really, it's a way of keeping tabs on us and communicating their findings to the mothership. My family must have done something extremely fascinating because that stupid thing was at it all night with the blinking. I just hope you know superbeings that I expect compensation for being in your research project. As I'm sure you've figured out by now, large amounts of wealth would be best.

because two heads are better than one...

The sculpture I finished building the day before the little one was born...and I somehow managed to completely finish it after he was born.

blah blogging

Another day, another blog post...another weekend spent. One thing blogging every day has done; I'm starting to see a pattern with my blogging. On Sundays my blogging is not at it's best. Sunday blogging feels like a chore. I tell you about my weekend...and it's a little lack-luster, not my weekend necessarily but my mood. It's all the rest, good food and crappy television. So here I sit, toothbrush in my mouth, thinking, typing...what did I do this weekend? ... I'm at a loss. I got nothing. Grocery store, laundry...yadda, yadda, yadda. Here's the post for today. At least I can say I blogged. I'll leave you with two thoughts: I am amazed at all the changes and growth I see in the little boy. He's getting so much more interactive! And two, I really want a blog makeover.

when I grow up

Outside of the fact that I am underpaid, I love my job. I mean really. I. love. my. job. I continually find myself grateful. My work is fulfilling. I love my coworkers. My work environment is supportive and caring. Who could ask for more? (outside of being better compensated) This is not going to be an annoying post about how happy I am being in the minority of workers who enjoy what they do. No. You see, despite all of this beautiful, wonderful goodness, I am constantly finding myself daydreaming about what I will be when I grow up. Here's a list:

author
muralist
artist
professor at a university
massage therapist

psychic
midwife
farmer
acupuncturist
owner of a boutique
baker

In my daydream I have this beautiful little artistic healing center that teaches classes, has a fabulous library/ bookstore and sells the best baked goods in this world - on handmade dishes. There's a little coffee nook in the bookstore and all of our mugs are handmade by artists who work in the center. Artists and therapists rent out space in the center. People come to work in their studio or work on their healing process. The center is a buzz with community also. There are regular poetry readings. A beautiful garden. We offer classes in things like meditation, painting, keeping your love relationship vibrant, creative journaling, dance ... you name it! Some classes are tutorial while others are just regular support groups to learn and grow. Since it's my little daydream I am free to jump between all of the different activities that I enjoy all day long. What's your daydream?

new cute little human tricks

The little boy is learning new things everyday it seems. He's learned how to get off of our bed and furniture by first dangling his legs backwards over the edge; opposed to hauling himself head first off the edge like he used to (well, he would try). He's learned to say "e-i-e-i-e-i" in response to me signing the first line, Old McDonald. I continue to encourage him to make the sign for milk when he wants to breastfeed instead of just lifting up my shirt. Sticking with the theme of learning though, he has learned to lift my shirt and sign for milk and that both of these actions get a quick response from mommy. He has also recently learned to give kisses (at least I think this is what he's doing). They are sloppy and always open mouthed and unbearably long and I never know if it will end with him biting my face. Maybe my baby is a cannibal and he just hasn't learned the sign for flesh yet. No, I'm pretty sure he's just trying to kiss me and sometimes gets a little carried away with his sugar coated momma. He's also learned to flirt with strangers and throw food at the dog (who is ever grateful for this trick). He's been doing that for quite sometime. Actually, that may have been his first human trick. What will he learn next?

quick and dirty

We seem to be lice free so far. This entry is going to be a short one...want to get to bed to cuddle with the mister before the little one wakes up. One day he'll sleep through the night. In the mean time I've got to get it in while I can.

heeby-geebies

Someone at my husband's work got head lice from their kiddo...now I'm all itchy.

a mad kitty

I've always known it but been afraid to admit it. I was in denial for a very long time but I'm finally able to own it: becoming a parent has made me a terrible pet owner. I woke this morning to not one but two piles of cat poop; one on the bathroom rug, the other in the little boy's room. There was also the piss on the little boys chair. I'm not sure which of our two felines is responsible but I'm sure our cat is trying to tell me something? If he could speak it might sound something like, "Hey, listen here family. I know you have a lot of new responsibility but do you think you could pay me a little attention?! By the way, no one did bother to ask how I felt about your decision to procreate, I'm against it! Based solely on my experience of you two as caretakers, you're selfish and don't think of others. But go ahead, what do I know. I'm only your cat. Please accept my small symbols of gratitude."

I'm taking all of this way too personally. I did a little research this morning and it probably has more to do with the fact that we put a baby gate in front of the litter box than my cat's unhappiness. At least, that's what I'm banking on. I've found out that once a cat defecates in a place other than his litter box, he is more likely to continue defecating in that spot. So I'm off to buy some magic spray that tells my kitten "you don't need to mark this spot". If this doesn't work I don't know what I'll do. I don't know anyone foolish enough to take two adult indoor cats...anyone but me that is.

little steps in between

Today I lost a bet. Apparently winningest is a real word. Who knew? Well, the mister did. Hence me losing. In other news, I visited my best friend today and her new baby girl. Newborns are so tiny!

This blogging every day is tougher than I thought...I'm running out of ammo. I could write about dinner; pork roast with mashed potatoes or the weather: cold and cloudy. I could get a little more personal and write about how I haven't talked to my mom in over a week and our relationship is feeling weird again. But I won't write about that. Instead, I'll tell you that I'm working to stay grateful for every moment. I'll write about how when I was little I would dream of what my life would be like when I was older and I'm fortunate that I'm living that dream. Okay, I'm not a Hollywood celebrity but the other dream, the one of having a husband who adores me and a quaint little house full of life...that dream it's mine.

Here's the problem with dreaming though, I haven't stopped. I don't know that that is a huge problem but sometimes it keeps me from enjoying what's here right in front of me. I start thinking about how I wish I had something fabulous to share, an outrageous idea, a beautiful project, a great story or adventure and I'm whisked away from all of the beauty that is my life right now. My life - mundane, safe and full of the mess of living. When I stop long enough to really be present and put the dreaming aside for a moment I can experience all of the fullness of it. A belly full from a rich dinner, the mister on the rug (that the cat peed on again) playing with the little boy.

My little boy who is learning to walk gets so much forward momentum his weight teeters him over, his head leading, his little legs can't keep up and he falls onto his hands. I live much of my life this way, thinking, worrying and dreaming of the future, moving too fast forward to appreciate all of the little steps in between now and then. I'm going to work to move slower, appreciate all of the steps and nuance... I bet I'll have more to share then too.

*On a post post note: Blogger's spellcheck does not recognize the word winningest! Hah! ... It apparently doesn't recognize the word Blogger either though...

this weekend

I'm really hurting for something to blog about. It's not interesting but it'll do. My weekend, in a list:

• work on Saturday
• attending a baby shower for my sister-in law
• the birth of my best friends second daughter
• dog sitting
• sleeping in
• breakfast with the mister's parents
• swimming
• more laundry than I can imagine
• yoga
• pigs in a blanket for dinner
• grocery shopping

Yep, that was our weekend. I almost forgot, the little boy is starting to walk without assistance! The fun is just beginning!

difficult is getting easier

I had a difficult day at work and with the cranky child. My husband is wonderful and I am so lucky to have him. The busy baby shower and then in the middle of the shower another baby is born. We are so fortunate to have all of these children that are very healthy in our life. Other than all of that it was a pretty uneventful day. Funny how all of this seems normal now, but I think that I am beginning to get used to everything. It will be nice to have a Sunday to recoup and get ready for our first significant snowstorm.

more on the skinny

So yesterday I wrote about how women rock. And believe me we rock for lots and lots of reasons. Yesterday was primarily looking at our tremendous role in procreation but there are lots of other reasons why we rock (more on that later, maybe a list even). I want to write more about this weight issue. It's been on my mind. Here's the low down.

Recently I've lost some weight. I'm a few pounds lighter than I was before I got pregnant but it's all redistributed so I think I look like I weigh considerably less. At least that's what everyone keeps telling me, and telling me and telling me. And by everyone I mean all of the women in my life. The men, remarkably either don't notice, don't care or are afraid to mention it.

Here's my weight loss secret: I had a baby and I breastfeed. I don't have time to sit down and eat the way I used to and most of the time I wish that I did. That's it. Really. Oh and I walk but again that's mostly because the little boy enjoys it. Did I also mention that he weighs about 30 pounds and loves to be carried? And really, that is all.

I haven't tried to lose weight. I loved the way I looked before I got pregnant. Mostly. I mean, it's really always been a struggle. I've always been ... not small. I've been referred to as sturdy, comfy, fluffy, voluptuous. And I had good days and bad days but mostly I loved my body. And now, I am so way over it.

Today, I love my body and not because it lost weight without me trying (because now I'm between pant sizes and had to buy a whole new wardrobe). I love my body because it is incredible. I mean really incredible. There is so much more to me and my body than the weight it does or doesn't carry. Here are some examples. My body rocks because:

-it will withhold getting sick if I'm in the middle of transition and wait until I'm in a place to be able to get sick

-I heal really quickly

-I, just me and the miracle of my being nourish and feed another human being ... and that other human being thrives! 30 pounds!

- my body has signals and lets me know when I am taking on or doing too much or more than what is healthy for me

- my body doesn't judge me if I continue to push myself past a point of health ... in fact it adapts!

- my body holds all of my organs perfectly, allows me to sometimes abuse them or treat them poorly and goes on to process and continue to allow me to thrive

I could go on and on and start talking about the processes of the body and the relationship between my mind and body (that I mostly ignore but is there as my resource anyway). People, women...we are so much more than our weight! Health and beauty are about so much more than a number that is meant to fluctuate and change as we do.

I believe

Yesterday I wrote about the birth of my little boy. I feel so fortunate that we are all safe and healthy and that my pregnancy and his birth were both empowering experiences for me. Unfortunately for the mister, they were a bit more gory and traumatic. I've never been squeamish but especially after the birth of our son, I was left feeling strong and brave.

I can remember being a youngster thinking about and being terrified of what I saw as the inevitable pregnancy and labor experience. It felt so unfair that my fate as a woman meant that I would some day have to first carry another human being in my body and second push it out of a very small orifice. Fortunately time seemed to have pacify some of my fears. Also, when I became pregnant I surrounded myself with women who knew and believed in what my body was capable of, even when I didn't. I was able to express my fears to my midwife and her assistants and over and over again they assured me, "your body knows how to birth a baby" and "your body was created in way to allow this to happen naturally" After I heard it enough I started to believe them. Also, I may have felt some pressure to grasp at something reassuring as my body continued to expanded to a point of ridiculousness. Hear me out here, I think pregos are absolutely gorgeous! But they are also preposterous looking. This may be why I find them so beautiful...I also have a soft spot and find beauty in handicapped animals, obese pets and diseased trees (I know that's weird).

Anyhoo, here are some things I wanted to share. These are things that I have come to believe since taking part in the incredible procreation journey:

- women's bodies are amazing*
- pain is release (or at least, it can be)
- women are natural warriors
- birthing has the potential to be an empowering experience

Telling our birth stories can be healing and empowering. I know that we are not all blessed with amazing experiences of birthing. Sometimes women feel disempowered through their labor, they may feel scared or helpless. Sometimes things go wrong, sometimes we blame ourselves taking responsibility for things that were out of our control. I believe that regardless of our story, telling it in a safe environment can help us to make better sense of it and through sharing we can learn about ourselves, our surroundings and our journeys. Telling our stories to others can be healing and empowering. I encourage you to tell me your birth story! Leave a link in the comments!

the birth story

This is a long one.

A year ago in my journal I wrote:

I don't even know where to start. I have a one week old baby boy and he is beautiful and my life is completely upside down. He came a month early. Actually, he came right on time and we were all a month behind. It was a beautiful birth.

My water started leaking at 4 in the morning. I had gotten up to go pee and found that I would dribble every time I got up. I thought that the baby had moved into a funny position rendering me incontinent. It started to dawn on me that I might be in labor. I woke up the mister, he said "no way, it's too early, go back to bed". So I did. But I was still worried. I waited for a decent hour to come and then called the midwife. 8:00.

The midwife said it sounded like I was in labor. She helped put my mind at ease. She was calming and reassuring. She said the baby had been consistently measuring over in our prenatal visits. He could come now. So I got off the phone with her and started having contractions.

Well, first I had to tell the mister I really was in labor. He still didn't believe me. "Do you really think I should take off of work?" he asked. I was pretty sure and I knew if he stayed home, regardless of the outcome, he'd cook me breakfast. My best friend called I told her the news. She didn't believe it either.

Eggs, hash browns and bacon. It smelled delicious although I didn't eat a whole lot of it. The midwife came over at noon and I asked for a pelvic exam to see how far dilated it was. (I only had one pelvic exam my whole pregnancy and this was it...I was so happy). 3 centimeters, contractions 10 minuets apart. She said she'd come over at 5 but I should call her if things changed. I remember thinking, I hope things change way before then. I called her at 3 that afternoon. My contractions were 5 minuets apart now.

The midwife showed up with her assistant. I was sitting outside of our bathroom wrapped in a blanket. I had the chills and then a contraction would come and the blanket would come off. Unbearable heat flash...back to the chills. The midwife and her assistant sat at the kitchen table and did paper work. I felt that everything must be pretty normal if they're doing paperwork. I'll just keep having contractions on the floor. I moved around a lot trying to find a place to get comfortable. The hallway...nope. The couch...nah. The floor. It turns out there's no comfortable place when you're in labor. Then my clothes started to feel uncomfortable. I knew this meant I was progressing through labor. I don't know how I knew this I just did. At the point I stop caring who I'm naked in front of, the closer I am to having this baby. The shirt came off and I settled on the floor next to the couch for awhile. Apparently, the midwife thought also that I was progressing because she stopped doing her paperwork at the table.

I harfed up breakfast and got back to work moving around the house as best I could to find a comfy spot. The midwife and her assistant followed me with their blue surgical pads meant to catch the birth goo and protect our wood floors. I didn't care about the wood floors. I was looking for the magical spot to birth our son. We tried the birth chair and the toilet, the couch again and the floor. I ended up in the hallway just before 7pm in the birth chair singing like a beluga whale. I was sitting right below our doorbell chimes and every time I would howl in labor I could hear them vibrate. That's where our little boy was born. The mister caught him and held him as he took his first breath of air. After his head passed there was a gush of fluid and life and out he came. Right into the mister's hands. We all waddled over to the couch and I lay with our new baby and the mister. There we rested in stardust and applesauce. Our new family. I birthed the placenta. The midwifes cleaned everything up and feed us turkey, cheese and apple slices. They tucked us all into bed together and sang the little one a welcome to this world song. It really was beautiful. 7 pounds 12 ounces. A beautiful baby boy.

There you have it our birth story.

whew

Thank goodness that is over! It was a rough go of it the last two days. Let me tell you something, when I am sick and the mister is sick too, with a teething sick baby...it is not pretty. Those kinds of conditions bring the whiner out in me and not the pathetic whiner, the mean one. I actually called my husband a name under my breath yesterday. I haven't done something like that since I was in middle school. Well, if you don't count driving. I'm happy to be back up and running. Maybe now I can get some laundry done.

day 3

This was not what I had in mind when I signed up for NaBloPoMo. The little boy is doing just fine. Now it's me and the mister. Hopefully I'll resurface soon.

determination

literally covered in baby's vomit...too many times to count. poor little guy. I have a feeling I'm in for a long night. But I wasn't about to give up on Day 2.

a birthday party

I'm sure it's reveals something when today, we were preparing for the little one's first birthday party and I kept wondering when can I open the wine? It wasn't that I needed a drink to take the edge off or relax (yes, I'm pretty sure I do sound like an alcoholic)...although some of my family was there and they do have a tendency to get on my nerves. It was simply that we were having a party. And isn't that what adults do at parties? What was the last party I was at where alcohol wasn't involved? Okay, company holiday party. But when was the last party I hosted and didn't have alcohol? I'd have to stretch years back even before I was able to buy alcohol legally. It is almost as unfathomable as having a party without food (although I'm sure I've been to plenty during my college years). So I showed some restraint and waited until half way through. And yes, wine couples well with cupcakes. And my relatives.

So there you have it. For some reason this whole conundrum makes me feel more adult. Questioning the appropriateness of alcohol; when and where, having a one year old, throwing birthday parties for kiddos.

I'm starting to wonder if as the kids get older alcohol becomes more inappropriate...probably. For parties involving other parents and other kids I guess the wine waits until after the guests leave...I may have to hold separate parties then; one for the little boy's friends, where I show restraint and wait to pop the cork until after everyone is gone and another party for my family where there is little restraint and Momma can drink her wine with her piece of cake.

Family. Everyone has one. I'm grateful that as I have grown I have been able to choose my own family. I have also been able to more broadly define the word to include long time supportive friends. Friends that I often feel closer to than my relatives. That's a post for another day. For now, it's enough to say that the little boy's first birthday party was a success and momma got by with a little help from her friends. And her wine.

a year of parenting

It would make sense if I created a list after that title that ran through all of the changes, challenges and milestones this year. Suffice to say the only one I can remember at the moment is a lack of sleep for me and the hubby which continues to result in weakened brain function. That aside, the sleepiness, headache and achy left breast, the little boy turned one yesterday!

One year old! I was very excited about it yesterday. Me and the mister took the day off from work and took the little one out for a day of excitement and celebration. The little boy treated it like it was any old day, but me and the mister knew better. We played it out with the adorable little one all day long. Which is why I was so surprised when I awoke at three in the morning because the little one was wide awake. I mean sitting up giggling, wide awake. Turns out the little boy decided to tooth his first top tooth (he has his lower two) for his birthday slumber. Curiously, he was joyful. Me and the mister, not so much.

So here I sit, almost 10 in the morning and I feel like it's 5 in the morning. I feel like I've been up partying all night. I was in a much better mood this time yesterday, remembering the journey of labor and the excitement of birth. This morning, yelch. But don't worry, yesterday in all my glee I went through my old journal that I kept a year ago this time. There's lots to share! And I've decided to do NaBloPoMo. Again. This time I'm gonna try real hard not to bomb out.

if I had more time...

I would:

• read, read and read
• take a sculpting class
• take a nap
• cook more
• take a yoga class regularly
• bake more
• take a workshop on knitting and crochet
• write
• go to a writer's group or workshop
• create more every day

No matter how much time I do find, I can always put off:

• cleaning the hall closet
• cleaning out my car
• okay, any kind of cleaning at all that's more involved than straightening up
• balancing the checkbook

Wow, these lists weren't as long or horribly defeating as I thought they would be. Actually, in thinking about and writing them I feel really lucky and grateful that I don't have any major activities that I dread doing...I had a job once that was that way. So much of my day is filled with necessity and care taking. It's joyful and time consuming.

I've been struggling with balance lately. Balancing everything...work and home are the two biggies. I am working more at work than I care to. I really struggled this last week to balance my emotions and balance sleep and wakefulness. In other words, I wasn't sleeping well, even though for a change everyone else in my house was. My lack of sleep started to add up and I started to struggle with my emotions being ramped up as a result. I'm learning how important regular and good sleep is to me. Thankfully, I have had two good nights of it. I'm doing everything I can to ensure it continues.

I've noticed also, I've been hiding from the blogworld lately. Part of it is time, time, time. The other is my emotions running high. The last thing I want to do is write something publicly, even if it is anonymous. I teeter on the edge of how much to share here. (again, even though I've kept anonymity) I suppose that I have some fears about sharing. And since I'm in list mode, why not another list?

I'm afraid if I got more in depth about my life, feelings and thoughts here:

• people would judge me harshly
• I would be misunderstood and more harsh judging would ensue
• I'm coming up short here...maybe a list wasn't the best medium.

Wow, the magic power of lists! I look at those two bullets and I think, "Really? That's not so bad" I know people will judge wherever I go and what ever I do. It's not something I control. I'm surprised at that keeping me from doing something I would like to do. It's still scary sometimes. But it's a lot easier to manage and look at when it's just two itsy-bitsy bullet points.

One other thing that I think will be helpful for me: I will no longer compare myself to others. (okay, I'm gonna really try to do it less. It's not helpful for me in my process either.)

this weekend

• home made sloppy joes
• pumpkin carving
• painting our dining room chairs
• laundry, laundry and laundry
• dinner in front of the t.v.
• perfect weather

sigh

still here blogworld - with nothing witty, or humorous. no rants, no raves. just here. I am well, healthy, grateful and boring.

also, I would really like a blog make over. maybe that would give me the umf I need to say something interesting.

Yesterday, I visited hubby's work after having lunch with the boy and a friend. We went to see his new office and show off our little one to all of his co-workers. Half way through our visit I caught a glimpse of myself in a window reflection; no make up, a ratty tee-shirt, I was covered in avocado from the little boy, green splotches all over. When I was younger, I swore I would never be what I saw in that reflection. I thought, "I will always dress up to see my man". Ha. Even further, it doesn't even bother me that I don't care. It's like I get it now, and I didn't then. I have much more important things to think about.

Somehow that story seemed fitting...just feeling a little lack luster... I guess part of me would still like to look fabulous and glamorous while being super mom.

happy october

I love October. I love Fall. I especially love Halloween. It's a time for honoring Autumn and darkness. A celebration of the things that seem too scary to look at or claim. Our fears motivate us. Often times, I struggle to even acknowledge or speak about that which scares me. Inevitably, once I do speak up I get support, I learn, I become empowered and that which was scary loses power. The unknown holds all kinds of possibility. It can be scary and exciting. Fall seems to encompass these two things for me as we face the darkness of Winter. The crisp in the air encourages me to embrace that which is unknown - stake my claim, dig deep and open to the outcomes.

a poem for you

The Butterfly, by jo

Does the beautiful butterfly know she has wings?
Is she aware of ethereal flashings beating behind her
supporting her every action?
twisting. flitting. through morning's dew.
fragile and eternal
Supported with gossamer veils
existing in both worlds.

Does she know of them?
Is she aware she is always connected?
in all ways supported.
Does she sometimes wonder at herself?
feel alone and separate.
Only catching glimpses in peripheral
madly chasing
moving wildly to grasp that which is her birthright.

That which could not leave her -

for even a caterpillar is a butterfly,
if only on the inside.
and that is where it counts.

blogworld fix my family

It seems that I've taken a bit of a vacation from blogging this month. I've been debating on how much to share, why am I blogging anyway and so forth. Battles with the inner critic. Oh, and I really did go on vacation, except that I returned home feeling like it was one of those vacations you need a vacation from.

The long and the short of it: my family is nuts. And while I really enjoy flair, personality, and general zaniness, my family takes the fun out of dysfunctional. I struggle to make peace with it all, not get too involved and not take it personally.

The truth of the matter is that this time, I did a really good job. I didn't get in the middle of anything. I was able to express my love and support to everyone involved. I upheld clear boundaries and took care of myself. I must be growing up.

Having recognized and said all of that I've been struggling with still feeling unsatisfied. I think now, as I write this it's taken me the last few weeks to figure it out...I'm unsatisfied because...well, my family is still nuts. No matter what I do I can't change that. It's not something I control. I can take care of myself and nurture me and my own little family; keeping us sane and healthy, laughing. But I can't control my bigger family. I can take myself out of the equation in a way that feels healthy for me but it doesn't change them. Doing my hard work for me doesn't give me the healthy extended family I want. And sometimes that's sad and frustrating and ultimately unsatisfying.

What it does do however: it keeps me sane and safe from their craziness, it allows me to create safety and sanity in my new immediate family with my hubby and little boy, and it takes so much less energy. I feel like instead of getting wrapped up in stuff I don't control, in stuff that's not mine, I can see more clearly and grieve what I need to about having an extended family that is not cohesive and doesn't communicate with one another.

And having realized and shared that with you, I am satisfied. And back from hiatus.

Thanks Blogworld, you've done it again.

dinner for one

The weather is finally cool and so today we cooked a meal that involves the oven. I always look forward to this time of year. When the weather cools I get a hankering to bake and cook casseroles. And so tonight, as my dear husband looks forward to the start of Monday Night Football (ugh) we prepared a Mexican casserole.

The only problem is that there is a severe case of what can only be described as crankiness going around in our house. Last week it was the mister, tonight it's me and the boy. Even in writing this I loathe, although what exactly it is I loathe I cannot say. It's just a general distaste - for everything: my husbands singing, the cooler weather, our dog, our house...you name it. All attempts at cheering me up this far have been met with steely glances. And so my gracious and patient husband is sitting with the little boy in his room playing with toys giving me a chance to eat and blog. I suspect when I finish eating it will be (and should be) the mister's turn to eat.

Despicable and horrid, that's how I feel and I have no good reason for it. My current fantasy involves me, alone, a dark and hidden cave, some mojitos and a plush and warm king sized bed. That's where I'm at folks...I guess in the mean time, I'll settle for a bath.

Sweet September

Catching up on blogging this morning. Re-heated coffee in my new favorite mug, sitting ears perched, door open - the little one napping in the car. The DNC is over and with it marking the end of summer. Finally, cooler weather. Crisp fresh mornings. Blankets used to snuggle and keep in warmth as opposed to thrashing them off in the sticky heat of the night. One day I will write an Ode to Fall. How I love Autumn, let me count the ways... for now, suffice to say that I feel like a new woman.

In catching up on my blogging this morning I've come across some inspirational stuff. Lisa Lucky and Jen Lee have written posts recently that remind me: we all struggle with staying in the moment, we all struggle with self judgment, patients, and sharing your story with others who are compassionate is healing.

What can I say? The universe is conspiring on my behalf. And today I am feeling it in my bones. It is delicious!

comfy in my own skin

High highs and low lows. This is parenting. Or at least, this is parenting for me...so far. I am completely in love and full; at home with the mess and wiping boogers. Then I slowly start to pick at the fray and it all comes undone. It begins with an innocent question or comparison. Before I know it I feel like a mess. I question every decision, every step and it all feels insignificant. Somehow I talk myself into a place where everything I do isn't enough. It gets scary. I don't know how I resurface. I'm only glad that I do. I'm grateful too that I seem to find peace again quickly. And in the mean time while I wait me and the little boy go for very long walks. I'm the one with a distant look on her face. Not really taking anything in. I'm so grateful for this side. The place where I'm full and grateful. Where I allow myself grace. It does seem that every time I come through I become more present to myself. ...
I'm not sure how to end this post, except maybe to say that having a baby is a crazy adventure.
That seems like an understatement but it's all I've got.

a new milestone

The boy spits out whatever is in his mouth if I put my hand under it. I think this officially makes me a real mom. Exciting!

but wait there's more

Two posts? Oh yeah. I just couldn't resist.

Here's are a few fabulous things that I am enjoying the heck out of:

1. Being just ever so sore after going to my first yoga class since the boy was born.
2. Lean Mean Thirteen, the last Stephanie Plum novel (yes, yes it's completely predictable and mindless and I love it!)
3. I won the Maternal Is Political contest on Jen Lee's blog. I am looking forward to reading, sharing and passing it along!
4. Finally, cooler temperatures at night
5. This book, this book and this book

huh?

I'm going deaf. It may be psychological, actually. It seems to be specifically my husbands voice that I don't hear. Well, at least not very well. I'm lucky I married such a patient man because I must say, "huh" or "what" to him at least two dozen times a day. Since he's pointed this out to me, he's stopped repeating himself after I ask him what he's just said. We sit in an awkward silence for a few seconds...it turns out I do hear him. I just have an automatic reflex of asking him to repeat himself. After the silence and some time passes, I can usually put together what it is he's just said. It's actually about 50/50. The other half of the time I'm guessing, grasping at straws really. It makes for some great conversation though. Like this one:
In our bedroom. Getting ready for the day.
Husband: Honey, where are my jeans?

Me: Beans?

Me: huh?

Husband: shakes his head in disbelief

or this one...

Husband: Don't forget to take your car in tomorrow.

Me: pausing....thinking...and then, "What about the garbage?"

I try really hard folks. And the worst part is, it seems to happen mostly with my dear (again, very patient) hubby. What can I say? I'm glad he has a sense of humor.

out came the sun...

Sunday morning. The mister sleeps in while I get up with the boy. The boy who has been in the process of waking up for at least an hour before I finally get up with him. He kicks and rolls and babbles, nurses some between his sleeping parents. Until I give in to the fact that he is not going to fall back asleep. We rise, change what must be the world's heaviest diaper and I have a cup of coffee.

An hour of crawling and investigating. I try to write but can only get two sentences down before he's demanding my full attention. For a moment I feel trapped. Trapped in eternal parenthood. Trapped in no more sleeping in, no more cuddling with the mister because the little one is between us. I'm trapped in my thoughts that I cannot get onto paper - there's just not time or space for it. An overwhelming sense of self pity, sadness, terminal thinking - that this will last forever- sets in. I think that by choosing to have a child I've signed away any sense of sanity and enjoyment for myself. The little boy is all over the place and only happy in one spot for seconds before he's fussy and moving on to the next surprise.

I force myself to put down my journal and set aside for a moment the million things I would like to do. And I sit with him, just in front of where he's at. I watch him explore the mister's shoe. Then suddenly and for what seems to be no reason, he looks up from the laces he's been pulling at and smiles. The smile is clearly, undoubtedly just for me. Because I am there and watching and because he loves and trusts and feels safe and knows that I am there. And everything else falls away. I am captured by that smile and remember that I can withstand anything for this little one. A to do list and sense of self satisfaction in activities I enjoy...they suddenly seem so unimportant. Because my little boy has an uncanny way of being just right here in this very moment. And when I allow that, join that, when I can truly be there with him it is the most important and fulfilling moment. And it is always available.

it's a black fly in your chardonay

The old saying goes, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him what your plans are". Yep. If that's the case, someone is getting a pretty good laugh at my expense. For the last two weeks I have had plans; plans to go to lunch, plans to take a yoga class, plans to take a dance class, plans to stay with a friend. Canceled, canceled, canceled. Seriously? What is going on? Must be some crazy astrology thing. It's like my karma for everything I ever had to cancel on in my life has decided to come back and haunt me these last two weeks. A perfectly booked and well scheduled week - gone to pot. I just hope I've broken my streak. I'm off to make more plans and get some more inevitable grins from the heavens.

confessions of a blogger

I'm still trying to make sense of why I decided to blog. I'm still sorting and self judging, what I should share. Then I worry, even and especially as I write this that I sound whiny. No one likes to read whiny writing. I swear I'm not whiny in real life. I judge that this should look finished, complete. This should be a well put together project. My blog should have coherency. Then I feel like I'm at a total loss and start wondering why it is I want to blog.

Here's what has come to me lately about my reasons for blogging: To find my voice.

In my professional world I can put on a professional face. I can have an air that says, "Yep, I mostly know what I'm doing and what I don't know doesn't necessarily bother me. I have enough grace to grow and learn"It took me a long time (it felt especially long) to get to that place of confidence in my job.

In my personal life I'm all over the place but mostly, I'm a goof ball. An over analytical goof ball. As a mother, I'm starting to get the hang of it, on most days, for right now. But as an artist and as a writer, I feel like I am all over the place. I free write filling journals, often (always)starting a new journal before I've come to the end of the last one. I play with poetry and start stories (but sadly have never finished one). I talk myself in self debilitating circles. I think more about what I would like to create than actually taking the time to create. And now I have a baby. So I wonder, what exactly was I doing with all of my time before?

I think I see a blog as a way to help streamline this process. I am, in a way, forced to write. To finish. To think and to present something. Anything. I must admit that critical voice makes this, and everything for that matter, much more difficult. But I'm hoping it goes the way it did with my profession, one day the critical voice will feel smaller, manageable. One day I'll sit down to write, or create and the old voice will pop up and I will be able to say, "oh hi there, I hear you and thanks, but I'm gonna go ahead and create anyway. I think I've got this handled." I look forward to that blessed day. But I know the only way to get there is to keep writing for better or worse. So here I am. Open to learning and growing. Feeling like a beginner, even though I've done this all my life. Having judgments, and doing it anyway.

I hear ya sister

I was sitting here listening to crickets. Wondering what to write. Trying to figure out what was true in me right now. I couldn't come up with anything and then I checked out Mrs. Lucky's site and it all came to me. I found myself writing a longer than normal comment. So I went ahead and posted it here. Funny how we have the ability to inspire each other. To reach out with out intention and stir something in someone else.

Funny how your post hit me. I'm struggling with figuring out what's in me right now too. But I'm not visiting family so...sometimes I think I need to experience something and trust that the meaning of it will come later. That means, for me, trying to hold off on the self judgment and just give myself permission to be. Even if being in that moment means feeling crappy. So often I want to try and take the heartache or melancholy or whatever uncomfortable feeling I have and think my way to the end - right now. I forget that I'm in process. That I don't have to have the answer right now. That feeling bad now is okay, it is part of the wonder of it all. Wow, I just wrote a whole bunch. Really, what I wanted to tell you was hope. Hang in there. Hope and trust and hang in there and love yourself. You're awesome! And who would you be if family didn't drive you a little nuts?

where have I been?

I've written a number of posts in my head over the last two weeks. I have even started a few. But nothing has shown up here. I'm sorry I've not been able to post more. The little boy started crawling the day before yesterday! The last two weeks, heck yesterday, are just blurs of time, in which I know I've done something, but I couldn't really tell you exactly what. There hasn't been anything out of the ordinary, nothing extravagant. Just a constant hustle of life, which right now is mostly about parenting. Imagine a really large infant covered in dog hair and dirt discovering how exactly each piece of furniture could become potentially dangerous while his parents discover they never really got around to baby proofing the house. How by the way, do you baby proof kitchen chairs from falling over? And why is it that the most unstable furniture and the most questionable items, as far as safety goes, are the exact things that my little boy is the most attracted to? The little boy refuses to nap in conventional ways. He goes straight to sleep when we are in the car or on a walk. So we do a lot of walking and driving. It makes house hold chores and blogging difficult to do. Again, my apologies. I'm gonna get the hang of this though...eventually. Or the little boy's patterns will change. Whichever comes first.

in the clear

Whew! Our dog looks clear of any cancerous cells! Thank goodness. It looks like, the vet said, just an infection. Hopefully the antibiotics we got from the vet do the trick. My dog is the absolute worst at taking medication! If you put his pills in something delicious, he'll eat the morsel carefully, finding the pill, spit the pill out and finish his treat. I've resorted to prying his mouth open shoving all three pills down his throat, clamping his mouth shut until he swallows. This tactic has worked so far. Except that this morning, he tricked me into thinking he had swallowed the pills and then he spit them out. Twice. My next step will be crushing his meds into a powder and mixing them with something. If that doesn't work....hopefully that works.

research

There's so much to blog about I'm afraid I'm suffering blogger paralysis. There was the reunion. Which I had mixed feelings going into but then found the perfect dress, got a night out with my guy and had a fabulous time! I went with my bff from high school so at least I could huddle in the corner with one person if it turned out to be a bust - but it wasn't a bust! It was a blast. There was only a small sliver of people who showed up but the handful who did - well it was heartwarming for the most part. Catching up, remembering, laughing. At the risk of sounding like I have a drinking problem, I must admit though, I am so thankful I had a drink or two, or three in me. Yeah for social lubricants! Maybe someday I'll feel confident enough to get by on my wit and charm but this was just the perfect occasion for a margarita! Alcohol aside, it was so nice to catch up with old pals!

Next up, my little boy is still asleep! Really not a whole lot more to write on this except that he's slept 2 hours more than he usually does, which is both nice and unnerving. Nice because, well here I am blogging with both hands! Unnerving because, well, is he okay, is something wrong? He's still breathing, no fever. This is something I could get used to!

And last, (be warned this may get graphic) my beloved pooch has some kind of strange growth on his...uh...well, pooper. About two years ago he had a similar growth that we ended up getting removed. It was just this little butt bubble, that slowly grew and grew and grew. No I'm not making this up. It didn't seem to bother him but it progressively got larger. So, we took him in. He had surgery and it turned out to be a benign growth. But this time - the growth came back in a day! And it's really gross, not just a cute pink button. An oozy, irregular mass. And my poor dog is so uncomfortable. So I took him in right away. Really folks, this thing was growing right in front of my eyes. Okay that's a slight exaggeration but it did get bigger with in an hour of being at the vet. They don't know what it is. They're sending in a sample to the pathologist. My dog might have butt cancer, and the only thing funny about butt cancer is saying butt cancer. But we won't know anything until the tests come back. I'm worried. In the mean time poochie gets some pain killers and antibiotics.

Now I'm fumbling with how to tie all this up...high school reunions, sleeping babies (who subsequently just woke up) and potential puppy butt cancer. How about a random quote from www.quotationspage.com/random

Basic research is what I'm doing when I don't know what I'm doing. Wernher von Braun

Couldn't have said it better myself. There you have it folks: research. We'll call it research!

keeping it short(er)

Is it just me, or have the posts around here been getting longer and longer? Well, I'll try to keep this one short. I'm not completely fully in my brain yet this morning. My little boy has taken to kicking me and nursing all the hours of the night. I think he sleeps well. But I woke up at one point and told my hubby that I was going to sell our little one to the gypsies. It's a good thing none were around. This too shall pass.

Getting ready for a crazy four days around here. Work, a two day conference for work in the high country and my 10 year high school reunion. Mom in law should be here in a few hours. I'll be making the drive to and from the conference each day, so that I can come home and get kicked all night. As painful as sleep was last night, I just can't bear to leave him for a night. I don't think either of us are ready for that yet. So I got some really great books on tape. Or rather, I hope they turn out to be good.

And with my 10 year reunion looming, I have been thinking a lot about my teenage self. And it hasn't been the easiest thing to think about. Did anyone really like themselves in high school? Was anyone confident enough to like themselves in high school? While doing all this thinking I was also shopping for the perfect black dress. The perfect, little black dress went out as sounding like a good idea when I realized that my boobs are about four inches lower than they used to be. After a good long search I found a winner! So it's off to the races for me!

fireworks on the 4th of july

We tease each other all weekend. Forming opinions, embellishing ideas, joking and laughing. We have little debates, confident in our views and sure the other is wrong. We bet on where Marky Mark got his start (turns out the Mr. is right it was NKOTB) and whether or not earwigs can really bore into the human brain via the ear (I was wrong about that too, they can't). It's a refreshing change from earlier in the week when the arguments were serious. The tension palpable between us. Each choosing space instead of cutting words. I find myself panicked still about our relationship when this happens. When we argue. Part of me so sure of myself and hurt for his not understanding. Silent, stubborn, standing off, this is how I protect myself. At the same time panic has set, as it always does when we fight, and I instantly at the same time want to run to him - tell him I'm joking or wrong. Just don't be mad anymore I can't take it. Desperate. I hate this desperate part of myself and do everything in my power to hide it, especially in these moments when it screams the loudest.

A day goes by like this. All the day long I oscillate between catastrophe and desperation. Between wondering how long until it all falls apart, and what were we thinking bringing another human being into the world when we can't even get along, wanting to get in my car and drive for miles until I hit the dry desert with it's oppressive heat and isolation. These thoughts are mixed with the old familiar panic, don't leave me, I love you so much, how can I make it without you. These two extremes form the landscape of my mind. Sprinkled with sarcasm and cynicism. A little humor and self degradation. It keeps me humble and crazy. Constant chatter and doubt.

Instead of the desert and its isolation I find the hustle of the shopping mall. There I wander amidst families, power walking between couples. Mindless and numb, the stimulation distracts my monkey mind. Away from all of the doubt and panic. The walking creates a clearing within. I am able to breathe. I remember that I love my husband dearly. I remember that we are both indeed very committed to one another. It is not the end of the world, even if it does feel that way. I find my center, on my own. Among all of the shoppers. I decide then it's time to go home.

I find him at home on the back porch with the boy. We start our dance at a distance. From inside through the window I start to gently poke and prod. He escalates in anger. I am calm. I escalate in anger. He is calm. We each speak back and forth. Heated. Both hurt. But each tending to the other, in our own ways. I let the process happen and we find our common ground again. The space between us shrinks. Hours later, we are each still tender but the heat has lifted. All that is left now is the continuing of coming together. And a day later at the start of our weekend, we are laughing and intentionally needling each other. Sharing our opinions, wondering out loud and betting we know more than the other.

This is our dance. We will dance it over and over. It evolves and changes as we do. I am so very thankful we are able to take the space we need now. I think back to years ago when we yelled. Like dogs chained to a fence, neither of us able to get away. Name calling (that was me), saying things just to be hurtful (that was him). We are able to argue now and remember while arguing that we really do love each other. And try in the moment to treat each other that way. Sometimes, we succumb to the temptation, hitting below the belt. But we've learned to be gracious with each other also. Allowing for room. Knowing we will step on each other's toes. Knowing the other will sometimes be blatantly wrong and loving them more because of it. Even if technically I'm right because Marky-Mark wasn't in NKOTB when they made it big. At least not that I remember...

my little boy's lullaby

I love you best when it's dusk and you're fighting the inevitable slumber.
Kicking ferociously beside me. Each stretch of your legs marked with a punctuated grunt.
Rolling away and back again.
Nursing and rubbing your eyes.
Pulling away.
Little wet wormy fingers
scratching and pulling desperately at my face.
Grasping fleshy cheeks, a protruding nose
then exploring - wiggling and prying my lips.
finding my teeth
A sudden realization and satisfaction
leaves as soon as it's realized
and the leaving is marked by more grunting and kicking
which begins to morph into a slumber song
another sort of exploration
sound
repeated
sound
repeated
your fingers lost track on my face
nurse, nurse
your lullaby coo
rubbing eyes with heavy lids
you succumb for a moment and drift off
and I think for just a moment "oh no, I'm going to miss you"
then eyes flutter open, as if you heard my thought
two pats on my check from your open palm
the last throws of a boxer who's lost his match
grateful and smitten I kiss your head and
breath you in. I love you best this way too.
Covered in peace, but certainly not the bed sheet.


P.S. I found my camera! Thank you! Thank you! My little boy's personal paparazzi has returned!

a little come to Jesus

Otherwise known as, Things I Really Despise About Others That I'm Beginning to See How I Embody:
I've recently been complaining, at least in my head and to my hubby, that my friendships seem inconsistent and therefore lacking. In whine mode, it sounds like this, "Who's there for me on a regular basis? Who do I have really regular intimate relationships with?" And in the shower the other morning as I was beginning, again, to whine to myself in my head about how I'm all alone, have no one, am bored etc. I started thinking instead, "What have I been doing to foster the relationships that are dear to me?" and I realized, I was the inconsistent one - that's right me. I hadn't returned phone calls to anyone in my posse in any kind of a timely manner. While I've always enjoyed the loyalty and flexibility of my friendships with my girlfriends it seemed that the exception had become the rule. The more I thought about it, the more it was clear that I had set the standard in my friendships of inconsistency. The old golden rule is a beauty huh? The good news about realizing you were the one screwing up? You can fix it.

Some other things that I've been bitching about? People who take things for granted. (to see how this applies to me see the above paragraph)

Now I'm gonna go ahead and blame the baby. Seriously. Having a baby is like getting transported to another planet. I feel like I'm starting to wake up from a comma. On this new Planet Parent, everything is eerily similar and yet different enough to be jarring. It's like putting the milk in the cupboard - regularly. It feels like the right thing to do but somehow it's just not quite right. Familiar and odd. Similar and somehow me, only not quite in the same form as I remember. I have all these judgements that I should know what I'm doing mixed with tremors of self doubt and feelings of inadequacy.

Having said all of that, it is a tremendous gift. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I feel like I've learned (and am still learning) to come home to myself. I guess (here's where I get all philosophical) the beauty of a brand new day is getting to start new. That's sort of been my experience with parenting (only different). I'm sure I took lots of things for granted and was truant in my relationships but I didn't have the awareness of doing those things. Somehow having this beautiful little boy that I love so much has helped me to redefine myself. I have greater awareness (at least I think I do) about me. More insight into who I am. Where is this awareness coming from? Why after becoming a parent? I think it's because my little boy is so important to me. And I'm sure I'm gonna screw lots of things up and want to do some things differently but as best I can I'd like to do the best I can for him and me. That means...some (more) self reflection. That seems to be the theme around here lately. I'm just so grateful and blessed that I get to love someone so much and I get to be a better person for it.

P.S. It's just occurring to me that I probably didn't have to have a baby to do that...that's just what's happened for me. Or if you prefer, it took me becoming a parent to have some (more)awareness about who I am. Although, I don't know that I would recommend that method for others, meditation may be a more direct and certainly less expensive path to self insight. We could also debate about whether this happens for everyone who becomes a parent? or meditates? And also, (randomly) I've really been into lists lately.

P.S.S. More randomness...has anyone seen my camera? Seriously. It's been missing for about a month now and I'm really starting to miss it. I wish it would show itself soon. I'm about to assume the worst. sigh.

Note to self: try meditation - regularly

some random-ness from the weekend

1. a fabulous (really, really fabulous) date with the hubby this weekend
2. thank goodness for in laws to watch the little one
3. finished reading Eat, Pray, Love this morning (I actually finished a book!)
4. fabulous meal to go with the fabulous date
5. a new journal that fits in my purse
6. new realization that I really struggle to track my thoughts (I think I always knew this, but then forgot I knew and remembered again)
7. struggling with too much wonder and questions in my head, mostly fueled by feelings of incompetence
8. loving that I have a safe place to land and can get love and support from my hubby (see also #1)
9. feeling more balanced now, letting it pass, allowing and accepting my process
10. now: a napping boy
11. looking forward to my lunch date with my aunt (lunch dates rock, especially if they're with people you admire)
12. settling into summer
13. wondering about summer meals (is it just me or do other people struggle coming up with a menu in the summer time?)
14. I can't believe I almost forgot to put this down: the little boy cut his first tooth! 7 months old
15. so also lots of broken sleep and foggy, weary days in the heat
16. really enjoying naps and going to bed early

if you are afraid of the dark

A long kept secret and struggle of mine: I am afraid of the dark. I always have been, for as long as I can remember. My over active imagination has kept me in bed with a full bladder pondering the shadows and bumps in the night more times than I care to admit to. And despite my age and education I just can't seem to talk myself out of it. I have always felt sheepish about it. Full of self judgement. Aren't I getting a little too old to be afraid of the dark? When I was in my early 20's I lived on my own. I thought for sure living by myself would prove my bravery. How can you live by yourself and still be afraid of the dark? Each night before tucking myself into bed I would check each closet and under the bed. Oh, behind the shower curtain too - there's no telling what random murderous psycho or retching monster may be waiting there noting to themselves to be extra scary because clearly I don't clean out my tub. It seems to come and go. And for a very long time I have told myself I just have a sensitive subconscious. The way people are more susceptible to the common cold. Don't show me scary movies or tell me gruesome tales. That stuff stays with me and then, it comes back to haunt me. So I'm sucking up my shame to tell you, dear reader, about this. Mainly because, I'm tired of being afraid of the dark. I'm a grown up already! I pay taxes, I have a baby, my 10 year reunion is in a few weeks! Can I grow out of this already? Last night I sat in bed and pondered the shadows while wondering, again just how badly did I have to pee and how long until the sun comes up. So since talking myself out of this hasn't worked, I'm trying a new approach. It occurred to me that maybe I'm just very creative and for some reason fixated on dark, mysterious things. Maybe authors of horror share similar thoughts but don't see it as a problem. So instead of imagining what horrible fates could be waiting just around the corner for me, I'm going to try pretending it's a story. A premise for a book maybe. Maybe I can see these thoughts as blessings eventually. The scary, creative muse visiting again (always when I have to pee and the house is quiet. I guess if that fails, I'm just grateful to have a big hairy husband who doesn't seem to mind me waking him up from time to time. You know just to make sure I make it back from the bathroom intact.

the last seven days, a list

- a day spent at the office, I went in early even to catch up on the never ending paperwork
- searching for the perfect birthday present for mom in-law. found it!
- taking the pooch to the vet with the boy (this was a test in patients and physical strength)
- more time spent doing work I love with people I enjoy (I am so very blessed)
- a late birthday party! for me and my mom in-law
- opening presents
- mojitos
- bar-b-que!
- good friends
- a night around our new little outdoor fireplace with s'mores and conversation
- a day to rest, catch up and prepare for the coming week (read as laundry, grocery store, bills)
- visiting old friends and catching up
- filing for a birth certificate for the boy (he's made it seven months and all without the proper paperwork in order)
- yard work
- getting upset with my hubby
- a really, really long walk with the boy
- great conversation with my hubby, some stolen time late at night to reconnect

Yep. There you have it. Some chores and neurosis, a party sandwiched in between work. I know I didn't share the neurosis part in the list, I wasn't quite sure how to fit that in...okay, I'm still not except to say that I can get carried away in my little brain sometimes and my days feel so full of things - I get through them like a check list of things to do. Rarely lately do I find myself really indulging in a moment...in a regular old run of the mill moment, if you will. In dinner. Or grocery shopping. I feel like I have just enough time to brace myself before getting hit with the next wave. Then the wave comes and I find myself baring down for the next. Writing out the above list really illustrated that for me.

The crazy, wonderful part is that I have so much to be grateful for. And I am! I just am not really feeling it. I'm not living it. Overwhelmed in one moment and then surging ahead trying to plan, prepare, contemplate the next. Never really sitting here. Just right here. In this very sacred, beautiful moment.

Ahhhh. What a relief it is to let all of that go and just be here now. I can drive myself crazy trying to plan out the future and analyze my past. And I rob myself of now. Hhhhmmmff.

a birthday post

I have this personal rule about working on my birthday. I don't. Well at least, if I can take it off I always have. Today, however, I was going to go into work - just for an hour at the most - and not because I really wanted to, but because I had to - a super high speed meeting that had to happen today. So my hubby came home to watch the little one and I, all dolled up for work took off. But alas, the birthday fates had other plans in store...a big fat flat tire! A tow truck ride, my first time ever using road side assistance and four new tires later (it turns out they were having a sale on tires and all four did need to be replaced). I called in whilst I sat waiting for the tow truck guy and tele-conferenced in for the meeting- not the best situation but the only one that would work under the circumstances (thank goodness for technology and cell phones, what would I have done today without one?) and now, here I am a year older, a little morning adventure and some new tires!

So back to taking the day off and enjoying it - the way the fates intended (apparently).

On a tangent, I think I'm going to always take off the little boy's birthday. That is if he wants me to (I'm thinking when he's older he may not, but who knows) It can be his day with me and his daddy to do whatever he wants, go to the zoo, a movie, whatever he wants.

I remember when I was a kid, second grade-ish, I stayed home sick and went to the grocery store with my mom. I was shocked to see other people out in the world! I thought everyone either went to school or work during the day(which in my little kiddo brain meant in an office somewhere) I couldn't believe there were people out doing things - like it was a weekend or something! I had this endless possibility moment, where the whole world could be all mine when I was a grown up, in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week. It was scary and liberating all at the same time. Who knows maybe all little kids have this sort of realization (that the world does go on without them)? and maybe our little boy will enjoy always having at least one designated day with his cool folks to do whatever his little heart desires!

You know you're getting too old for a pinata, when the idea of picking paper and candy out of your yard is a huge deterrent from the possibility of getting to beat a paper animal until it renders the goods. Damn you responsible adult brain!

unfinished business

Here's what I've known about me for sometime; I lack follow through. I have been this way for as long as I can remember although I wasn't aware of it for much of my life. When I began to become aware of this little flaw I spent quite some time in denial about it. I'd try to blame other circumstances, people, situations - and while sometimes my excuses may have been valid, the real issue is still blaring, I hardly finish what I start. From household projects, creative endeavors, work projects, even personal journals, none are complete. That's right, even personal journals kept throughout my entire life, none are completely filled up. I start with gusto and romantic visions, hopes of what will come and stop three quarters of the way through. And so it is and has been with just about everything in my life. A subtle and effective form of self sabotage. I just don't complete things. It's like I just run out of steam. And so my life has become filled with things I haven't finished. They take up space and sit with excuses or reasons for not finishing - sometimes it's just that I don't want to. They collect dust and reinforce this belief about me not finishing things. I trick myself into forgetting about this flaw of mine and find myself feeling overwhelmed and stuck with nothing specific to point to. This habit reinforces ideas like, I'll never go anywhere, It never works out and Just who do I think I am. I have been feeding my inner critic - one unfinished project at a time.

So here's the part where I would usually cheer lead myself and make renewed promises to myself to do better, be better etc. There is something about doing that that feels like a perpetuation of the same cycle though. I'm not really clear what my next step is. Right now, I'm working on continuing my awareness of this tendency - I'm also going to grow awareness about the projects I take on...but it feels like there's more, something larger and deeper. I don't know - maybe I'm trying to read too much into it. I'm going to do what I can and trust that if there is more it will be revealed to me at the right time and place.

home and sick again

We returned home with out incident. Thankfully, we weren't harmed in the treacherous weather. Distances covered, meals eaten, moments shared. My hubby has such a large loving family. It is very clear that they all do really care about each other. It is so refreshing and healing even to be accepted into such a loving bunch of folks. That said, of course they drove me crazy - I think that's the big wonderful sign that makes it clear this is family. We were ready to return home to our own bed and home. Poor hubby was sick with something different than what me and the boy had. I fear I have it now. I was never this sick before having a baby. Who knew having a kiddo could be so hazardous to your health?

We left one rain storm and returned to another. And now I am quite literally and figuratively, under the weather. I hope the little boy doesn't get this one. Or anyone else for that matter - it's a doozie.

great things

Well, the boy and I are back to health -finally! Now the mister is down with the crud. Yeesh. This cold is like a bad penny that keeps turning up everywhere. Nothing makes me more grateful for my overall health than being sick.

I am minutes away from an afternoon at the spa. A Mother's Day gift from my hubby. Aaahhh. Recuperation. I love nothing more than being pampered. A massage, a facial, a pedicure. My own little heaven on earth. And the timing is just right. Recovering from the snot inducing ick and right before a Memorial Day road trip out to the Great Plains.

More great things: I just, as I am typing this, received this in the mail. I ordered it Tuesday. I was hoping to get it before we left. And I did. I hope the little boy likes it! He hasn't cut his first tooth yet but has been relentlessly working on it for weeks.

The goodness is just pouring in! I have so much to be grateful for and to look forward to! How about a list?

• did I mention that I'm getting a massage!?
• a facial
• and a pedicure (okay, not to rub it in but I am soooo excited! It's been a long time!)
• eating meals with both of my hands while loved ones hold our dear little one
• seeing new places
• hanging out with loved ones
• having people eager to watch the little one
• me and hubby having time alone
• maybe seeing a movie (the mister has been dying to see the new Indiana Jones movie)
• sitting in the dark
• holding hands
• eating popcorn
• new cool sheets (referring to style and temperature)
• my little boy is rolling over now sniff, sniff
• I finally got on the recycling bandwagon - we should get our bins next week (it's about time)

Have a great Memorial Day weekend Bloggies!

day four

Baby still sick. Some joy and playfulness returning - between bouts of coughs, cries and flailing limbs (I think he's practicing for toddler temper tantrums). I'm starting to think this cold has replaced my little boys insides with snot. Seriously, it's like Niagara Falls out of his nose. Poor guy. The good news...I'm sick now too. So I can improve my empathy skills and immune system at the same time. There's no rest for the wicked.

unhappy baby

A sick little fuss-pot of a boy. An experiment in patience and sleep deprivation. When I dreamed of parenthood I imagined myself much more saint like in these situations and in my head the common cold didn't last this long. Also I had the power to cure coughing with sheer momma love. Apparently, I haven't quite developed those powers yet. As I wait for them to develop I have been mindful of self talk. Replacing thoughts like "I can't do this" and "I didn't sign up for this" with things like "this won't last forever" and "some day I'll really miss this" or "whatever you need to do little boy (cry between coughs for hours on end in the wee of the night and then refuse to go back to sleep), momma loves you" "I'm here".
I've also been telling myself that this is not a form of psychological warfare but it is a test of endurance, strength and love. Thankfully, hubby and I are still on the same team - we haven't turned on each other yet...hopefully, we can outlast the common cold.

bright new day

What a gorgeous day outside! A grey soggy day yesterday gives way to bright greens and soft earth. The lilacs are all in bloom. Heavenly scents in the air.

The little boy is recovering from a cold. He sounds worse, lots of coughing but I think he's on the up and up. Yesterday was rough. The night before he barfed in our bed - twice. We only have two pairs of sheets right now. Of course after changing from the first barf into our clean sheets, he barfed again. I spent the night before last sleeping with him in our recliner. Last night's sleep was one of those where bombs could have gone off and not waken me up. It is amazing how much a change in weather and a good nights rest changes my outlook.

cherry tree

I stand under this tree and listen to a life force beyond words. A secret part of myself has been waiting for this all year. This incredible thing that only lasts a handful of days each year. Bees, bees bustling buzzing working bees. For a few hours every morning this tree full of beautiful blossoms becomes a buzzing life force. I love to stand below the blossoms and just listen. The buzz is so subtle yet once you've heard it and really taken it in - it cannot be forgotten or described. The sound of hundreds of little workers all in one tree, just inches above my ears. It is just incredible. Then as the days pass slowly the petals begin to fall and its a different sort of magic. Beautiful petals floating in the air around me as I head out into my day. Flowering trees. An unexpected blessing of beauty and life that returns every year.

In a few more weeks we will have cherry pie!

transparency

It has been some time since I've been around here. I have been having an identity crisis, as a blogger. And it has been paralyzing. Hence, the lack of posts around here lately. It's been going on for sometime now. Since I started blogging. I even think maybe before then...I spent lots of time thinking about how I wanted to present myself out there in the world wide web. I have yet to come up with anything solid that my inner critic hasn't gaffed at. It's been especially bad that last week of April. I started a few entries but everything sounded whiny. I hate it when I sound pathetic and writing that sounds even worse. But alas, the only way out is through and for me that means spoiling it all and coming clean. Owning up and telling you about it.

So, here's how I struggle - or rather how I would like to present myself. I would like to be seen as someone who mostly has it all together, but at the same time is interesting, funny but not disrespectful, creative, moving forward, accomplished (not quite sure what that would look like), open and exciting. The funny part is that I am all of those things - I suppose I have a lot of self judgement about what and how I write. It needs to sound "good" (again, what does that mean exactly?) From here on out I am giving myself permission to no longer worry about this. I am going to have faith that it will all come out in the wash. I don't control how others see me. And trying makes me a little crazy and takes a lot of time but doesn't accomplish much.

It's curious struggling with identity - with how I want others to perceive me. It happens in real life too - In real life it shows up as a wardrobe crisis, in which nothing I own seems to express the way I want to be presented. I can find fault with any and all of my outfits - and so I must try them all on. The especially curious thing about a blogger identity crisis: I am completely anonymous. The www doesn't know me from Eve. In one way that could be very liberating but for me mostly it's resulted in a writer's paralysis in which nothing I say sounds right. And I wonder about what I need to say and how I need to say it. Then I forgot entirely what I started blogging for. I'm starting to think, in part it was to figure some of this stuff out.

I don't think I'm going to start airing all my dirty laundry out here on the net but I do think I will share more and worry less about how it's received. I appreciate readers and by trying to sound a certain way, I'm really robbing you of a more authentic me - and therefore robbing myself of real feedback from you. It's refreshing to see others' flaws and imperfections. I feel less alone and I can learn more about how to walk with my imperfections with grace. So here I go and maybe in the end they'll say, "no one could slip and fall quite as beautifully as she could".

home again, home again

In preparing to go out of town, I always do my best to get everything in order and cleaned up at home. I thought that's what I spent all day Friday doing...what happened? I don't think I've ever done so much laundry in my life! My house is a wreck!

It was a much needed break from the norm. It was wonderful to spend time with family. There were so many loving people around who were dying to hold the little one. For the first time in weeks, maybe months I ate a meal with the use of both of my hands! Now, it's back to the grind.

in transition

I haven't been spending as much time around here as usual. Our little family has been making some changes and I've been keeping busy. The mister started his new job - but ended up keeping his old one too, for a little while anyway. So needless to say, I haven't seen much of him around here and I sure do miss that man of mine!

In his absence, I've been preparing for this weekend - we have a little family road trip to the Western Slope. I don't think I've been preparing very well however. None of the laundry has been put away and the house is in it's usual state of disarray. What have I been up to?

Visited with a friend and had a dinner and movie night. Visited with this fabulous woman, friend and local artist Oh, I did remove a tree stump in my backyard on Tuesday - that sounds productive anyway. And I completed a new sculpture, it just needs to be fired. I picked up some paint for our kitchen but haven't gotten around to actually painting. I'm pretty sure I ran into an ex-boyfriend while I was at the store but we both just kept walking.

Sigh. I wish I was a little more brave and then could have said hi to confirm that it was indeed him. In his defense, I didn't have glasses or a baby since the last time I saw him - I'm not sure I'd recognize me. We didn't end on a bad note - maybe a sad one. Which is probably why I wanted to see how he was - if it was him. Oh well. I did promise myself that I will now make a prompt and friendly strike when seeing people I know instead of being shy and awkward - I'm gonna try outgoing and awkward. Subsequently, I've already honked and waved at a woman on the street that I didn't know. Sheesh. Sometimes, I just can't win.

Alright, so I've put off the inevitable long enough. There is laundry to be put away, clothes to pack, a pooch to drop off and a nice little get away to take. I'm hoping to take lots of pictures.

Signing off til next week! Have a great weekend blog world!

more mornings

We drift in and out of slumber for an hour, me and my little one. The whole bed to ourselves. The mister has started his new job and the house still feels empty without him in the mornings. The boy rubs his eyes and stretches his arms as wide as he can. He looks to one side and then back to me and smiles. Ah, had I never known anything of goodness, surely this is it. His eyes slowly close as he drifts back to sleep. I hope for another half hour but know I'll only get fifteen. I wake minutes later to find that he's managed to kick the covers off of him and has found his feet. He's aiming for his mouth but hasn't quite made it yet. He nurses some and drifts back off. We do this for the better part of an hour before getting out of bed.

The house is quiet and outside the temperature is noticeably cooler than yesterday. Today we continue in our new schedule and I will leave the boy to go to work. He will be in the good and loving hands of a very dear friend. We are so blessed to not have to put him in daycare. Today used to be the mister's day with the boy. I know that has been one of the most difficult things for my hubby in this transition. The boy is especially joyful in the mornings. (I'm still wondering how me and the mister created a morning person.)

However, he seems less patient this morning. His usual joys seem to not be holding his attention as long. He is quicker to vocalize his dismay. I think it is his teeth and our new schedule. He goes down earlier than usual for his morning nap. His dreams bring beautiful little smiles to his face and chuckles. I'm completely smitten.

mornings

I sit and drink my coffee listening to my husband's sweet voice singing "good morning" to our precious little one. The house is cluttered with our things, the most obvious in first observation is the bouncy chair, the jumpy chair, the high chair and stuffed toys. Upon closer observation the more subtle and adult clutter comes into view, a box filled with paints and brushes, fired clay heads from a recent self imposed exercise, baseball caps, socks and shoes, yarn, a pile of paperwork here, some mail and bills over there. Sometimes our little house can feel too cozy.

I wake this morning to gray skies and green grass. I have phone calls to make, bills to pay, reports for work, the house clearly could use some tidying up - the trappings of adult responsibility, but all I can think of is baking cupcakes and shopping for new sheets.

Our mornings are slow and unambitious. Our late and long sleep habits leave us drowsy and floating through the afternoon. It's a sort of heaven, if heaven was cluttered and unswept. I have learned to stop listening to the critical voice inside my head, the one that tells me I should be getting more done. Instead, I work to appreciate what is. I daydream about perfect days and then look at what needs to be done to bring those things into reality. This of course all applies to domestic life. Creatively, I'm much less Zen.

I know that my hubby will struggle to change his schedule with his new job. We will all miss the aimless mornings we're accustomed to. It's funny how much easier it is to appreciate things when it's clear they are only temporary. The reality is, it's all temporary and every day is a gift.