Cyclical, Circular *or* She'll Be Coming 'Round the Mountain When She Comes

Today I watched this amazing commencement speech (by David Foster Wallace):

And I thought:  Yes, yes, YES!!!
And I cried a little bit - hearing him acknowledge the tedium of being alive.

Jesus, sometimes what it takes to get through the day is just so fucking mind numbing, and it's refreshing, actually to hear someone say it.

Today was one of the good days.  One of the days where I do things that make me feel accomplished & connected; one of the days where I feed myself well; one of the days where I make it out for a walk to drink in the beauty of where I live.
And I found that the blueberries were ripe.  The ones on public land.  Near my house.  And I ate them by the hand-full, right off the bush.
And Life felt GOOD.

Plus, Daddy #2 & I reconnected, and I was able to stay in the sweet spot:  you know the one:  where I am firm & also open-hearted.  I stood my ground & said:  this is not OK, and I also said:  we love you.
And, when he said, "I hate you", I felt practically giddy; started laughing.
Sometimes the truth is all it takes.

And he came over & cried with the baby.

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Now I am sitting downstairs in the dark, writing - listening to the baby (hopefully) coo herself to sleep in her basket.
She is such a different baby than my first.
And I am also a different Mama.

I don't think I ever would have tried this with the first, but I also think he would have cried instead of just talking to himself...

Sometimes she will lie on my bed & just stare out the window, looking at the wind move the leaves on the tree outside my window.....for, like, five whole minutes.  Not making a sound; not wanting anything.

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Daddy #1 took our first-born to the city for a bit.
They went to a ball-game & did fun city things.  Things I might enjoy, but probably not with my kid.  When he gets all hyped up, I get all stressed out.
They have their rhythm(s) & we have ours...

Baby girl & I find a different rhythm without Big Brother.
I miss him SO much & I see her looking around for him - and, then, there's something nice about the quiet & not needing to try to balance both of their needs, which are so different right now:  the 4 year old boy & the 6 month old girl...

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It's hard to not occasionally regret not doing more with him before she was born:  more running, more jumping, more getting into the sandbox & the bath-tub with him

Two is hard.
One was still kinda free & sexy.
One meant there were still periods of being alone & doing my own thing.
Two is frumpy & perpetually smelling of something:  sweat, mama-milk, spit-up, whatever the older one just wiped on my pants...
Two is *never* alone.
Two is some serious fucking touch overload!

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Though I find that I still want to have sex.
That I am not so touch-saturated that I don't want the touch of an adult.

Of course, it's all hypothetical right now, so who the fuck really knows.

Sometimes I think we would get along better if we were still lovers.
Or maybe that's the worst idea ever.

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Yesterday was staying up too late, eating too much sugar, watching a movie.
And today I feel like I can take on the world.

Cycles & rhythms.
Sometimes we have a choice & sometimes we don't.

The Oh-So-Much-ness

My last post was March 10th.
That means it's been almost 4 months since I've posted anything.
The interesting thing to me is that it actually felt like longer...
Like another lifetime...

I've been caught up in Life, or, as I like to call it:  The Oh-So-Much-ness

Oh, so much cooking; Oh, so much cleaning; Oh, so much making music by hitting one object on another object (and the related: Oh, so much defining what can & cannot be used as a drum/drum stick...)...

Just now, I am at the end of day 5 of a 7-day yoga intensive.
I have laughed, I have cried, the muscles & bones in my mid-back are talking to me quite loudly; I have not slept nearly as much as I hoped I would (though I fall asleep in in class during Savasana & Pranayama every day).

I am missing my boy *intensely*...

The Dad messaged me that they slept in this meadow last night.
So much sadness, so much joy; I ache.

And, each day, my belly grows.
Who is this new little one?
Will s/he ever know this Dad?
So much joy, so much sadness; I ache.

Oh.  So.  Much.

Love.

Life Is Like This

I tend to vacillate between too much to say & nothing at all. 

I have about 20 partially-written blog posts, ranging from Waldorf education to my experience weaning to 2Pac to a love letter to my (emotionally) unavailable lover...  I wish I had 3 uninterrupted days (with my house already clean & my inbox empty) to write & write & write -and- I'm tempted to just delete them all & start fresh...

I tend to vacillate between feeling totally blessed & like a f&*king hopeless mess.

Lately I've been noticing how many unfinished knitting projects I have lying around.  I'm not drawn to completing any of them.  I'd rather find a new & exciting project to start...

This morning I yelled at Trent because I wanted to be left alone for a couple minutes in the bathroom.  He cried.  I cried.  Sometimes the never-ending-ness of (single) motherhood really gets to me & I just lose my sh*t.

This evening we shared an absolutely gorgeous time in the garden:  me pruning, Trent raking up the fallen branches & vines.  Then I said 'yes' to an impromptu trip to the ice cream shop before dinner.  And Trent adventured & played & rode his bike outside for an hour as the sky grew dark & I cooked amazing chicken & broccoli (that Trent asked for more & more & more of).

Life is just like that.

(chocolate ice cream coma)

(every day his sweet, open face breaks my heart.  he is teaching me how to really love.  and, also, forgiveness.)

Procrastination .or. My House is a F*&%ing Mess

The (not so) Little Dude is asleep.

There are groceries to put away, dishes to wash, a bag to unpack from a trip we returned from a *week* ago, plus a bag to unpack from yesterday's day trip.
I need a shower, my teeth haven't been brushed yet today...in fact I'm still in my pajamas.
Coyote Cat's litter box needs emptying.

But, am I handling any of that with this 1-2 hour reprieve?  Nope.  Here I am, checking Facebook, writing in my blog, maybe going to sneak an episode of TV on Netflix (I'm too embarrassed to even tell you the show).

Take heart, friend.  Whoever you are, however messy your house (or life) seems, I'm right there with you...

Give yourself a break.  Take a walk.  Make a craft with your kiddo.  Nap.  Or read.  Sip hot cocoa.

The dishes will still be there tomorrow.

Why, yes, this is my lovely sink...

What Do I Really Know?

Pretty much Nothing, as it turns out.

Every time I think I'm starting to get it - this life, or my life, or being a Mama, or how to be happy, or whatever - figured out.  Well, to be kind, let's just say that's usually when all hell breaks loose.

Luckily I seem to be getting more adept at sitting in midst of chaos & letting it burn.  Burn up this crazy ego of mine that wants everything exactly the way I want it, and NOW.  Have I mentioned before I hate not getting what I want?  That I hate not getting my way?  That I can be an absolute child about having to consider other people?

Yeah.  Super-fun.  Especially since I'm the Mama now & there is an actual child in the house.  Also demanding to get his way, and NOW!

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And, am I surprised that my child is intense?  Is prone to fits of rage?  Throws & hits & screams in frustration?

Nope.

He is my child after all.  And his Dad's.  And we are, neither of us, smooth & peaceful creatures.  We both carry in us that heat; that spark; that iron & steel.  We are instigators; lighters of fires.  It is only in the past few years I have even begun to discover the (much vaster) potential of water; of love; the power in being capable of flow.

For the past two years, Trent has been teaching me almost daily:  Open Mama, open...
Any place I'm rigid, he breaks me {open}.
His love is so big.  I am humbled.

Who am I that I get to be his Mama?
As Marianne Williams says:  Who am I not to be?!?

An endless journey into Not Knowing.  Trusting.  Learning.  And letting go...

Whatever

So....I have definitely NOT been blogging every Thursday & Sunday evening, like I said I would.

And, you know what? I don't care.

I have this little reminder alarm that pops up & tells me it's time to blog, and I keep ignoring it.

I am a seriously busy kitty these days:

Trent is almost 17 months now & running around like crazy, singing up a storm, and generally enchanting & driving me nuts in almost equal parts. Plus, uninterrupted sleep is still rare commodity - so sometimes it's really all I can do to show up. Good thing showing up is 90%, right?

I am also in a three-month yoga teacher training, and it is kicking my butt - both mentally & physically. I am in class for five hours every Saturday & Sunday until mid-December (plus, a couple hours every Tuesday & Friday evening). Muscles I didn't know I had are sore, and I am spending much of Trent's sleeping time doing homework or attempting some home practice time.
And: I LOVE IT.

Then there's the fact that I'm moving to Sebastopol (and hour away) in December, so I'm showing my place & starting to sort through Trent & my stuff to see what we can get rid of now, so I don't have to pack it. It's a process I actually really enjoy - I just wish I had more time & wasn't so gosh darn tired...

So, anyway - fuck blogging twice a week.

I'll see you when I see you, and at least you'll know I really wanted to be there.

xoox

What to Say...?

Ugh...

I want to write; I don't want to write.

It's been over a month since my last post....

There is too much to say; I have nothing to say.

This pretty much says it all:

I would like to start writing here again.  I feel so inspired & grateful, and also intimidated by the other Blogging Mamas...
It is time to simply write whatever it is I have to say - for no other reason than to do write it - with no idea that I, or anyone else, will ever care what I have written or posted, but simply to write.

I hereby commit to writing *something* in this space at least every Sunday & Thursday evening, after Trent goes to sleep.  Until December.  So there.