Category Archives: Motherhood
Musings from the Laundromat: Last muse of the Year
If I were ever going to be the person that wore their pajamas out in public, it would have been today. But I’m not and I didn’t.
Tossed and turned last night, with my tossing and turning only to be interrupted by brief and very odd, commercial length dreams. “This night of restlessness sponsored by ‘REM’.”
In between coughing and telling Butters to go lay down, I found myself helping someone find their small silver dog and sitting in on a table reading for a radio spot??
I’m not even going to bother trying to interpret those.
I’ve been awake (and I use that term loosely) for less than an hour and am now at my table after filling 3 washing machines.
I wanted to get here as early as possible so that I can go home and rest!
I’m still sick.
I tried to cheer myself up after it was clear I had to actually put clothes on this morning and announced to the dog “I’ll wear my pink underwear today!”
She didn’t much care – but I guess I thought a punch of secret color would put a little pep in my dragging step.
It hasn’t.
I’m pretty sure I look like a homeless person right now. A sick homeless person.
It hasn’t frightened anyone off so far though – in fact, two people struck up conversations with me while I was stuffing the machines with my offerings.
I should have coughed more.
That’s how I know (other than the uncontrollable coughing and general apathy) that I’m under the weather.
Any other day those people would have ended up in my blog – after I chatted their ears off and found out where they were from and what they did and who they loved and …. well – I suppose they’ve ended up in my blog anyway.
Let’s go back to before I got here.
Yeah – like that. Only, it was one 18 year-old child and I didn’t have my fun pink underwear on yet.
My son stood outside my bathroom, “Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“When are you going to do laundry?”
“Half an hour – why?”
Now, I was seriously thinking that because he was up so early maybe he had contracted my bug, OR, actually wanted to come with me.
No.
“Can you wake me up when you get back?”
Sigh.
He retreated to his wing of the house and I brushed my teeth and stepped on the scale.
Tangent.
I’m thin. I lost weight sensibly and over time and when I quit drinking, the rest of the weight slid off.
I did notice in one of the photos I had taken with Lisa however, that I looked too thin.
I brought it up to my mom yesterday who mentioned that she had been noticing and when my ‘skinny’ jeans are baggy it might mean I have lost too much weight.
They are baggy.
I eat! I do! I love food!
I think the method I used for losing the weight has stuck with me though. I only eat when I’m hungry. I don’t believe in Breakfast ‘time’, lunch ‘time’, dinner ‘time’ – I eat whenever I want and stop when I’m full.
Sometimes I eat like a hobbit and have second or third breakfasts – sometimes I only want my lunch all day. I listen to my body.
Pretty simple.
But yesterday I forced a meal down because I don’t want my skinny jeans to be baggy.
So I’m on the scale – and I’ve lost 2 pounds. I don’t know where they went! I’ve been stuffing my face with holiday food – I’ve had two friends take me to lunch (Thank you Ruth and Lisa) and been digging in to the sweets that were in my Christmas stocking.
Seriously – how am I now 5’9 (and a half) and 125 lbs?!
It bothers me.
I do not have an eating disorder, but the thought of eating just for the sake of gaining weight – of forcing food down that I am not hungry for … is repulsive to me. (Says the girl who ordered Foie Gras)
Food should be savored – appreciated – enjoyed!
I would say I’ll snack more – but I already do that!
During the week I constantly have food in my mouth – it’s become an office joke.
Anyway – so I need to gain weight.
Back to Nic and the fact that he was not offering to come to the laundromat with me.
I got a Barnes and Noble gift card for Christmas – and I think one of the books that I am going to have to buy is “The Little Red Hen”. I think that book should be mandatory reading for everyone. Period.
If you don’t contribute, you don’t get to enjoy the outcome.
You want to enjoy living in a clean house? Help clean it. You want clean clothes to wear? Help clean them. You want a happy life? Put positive things into it.
Which, brings me to one of the things I plan on ‘resolving’ to do for the New Year.
Less bitching.
I’m going to find my positive energy again. The power of positivity juxtaposed with my inability to edit myself may prove to be a problem, but I don’t expect results over night.
Perhaps if I constantly have food in my mouth, I won’t be able to gripe? Two birds, one stone.
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas
Christmas Eve.
Nic asked me to wake him up this morning, so before I left for work I did just that and was rewarded with a tired hug.
For a moment – a fleeting moment – as I looked at his sleepy face and disheveled hair, I saw my boy.
It’s so odd.
So different.
Gone are the Christmas Eves peppered with ‘Can I open just one??’
Gone are the cookies and milk for Santa.
No more waiting for him to be asleep before tip toeing to his stocking.
No more biting carrots for reindeer and leaving remnants on the porch.
No more sprinkling glitter by a fireplace – leaving footprints in the carpet.
I miss that.
I miss wrapping Lego and Pokemon.
I miss small pajamas.
I miss the smell of his freshly washed hair – of “1,2, threeeee!” As I picked him up, wrapped in an impossibly big towel, out of the tub.
I miss story time and his heavy lids – minty yawns and ‘See you in the morning!’
Today I miss my boy.
But am oh so grateful for the young man who is my son this Christmas Eve.
Thanksgiving 2013 album
My favorite part of the day wasn’t the food (although, the food was amazing) it wasn’t the football (especially since the Packers lost ARG!) it wasn’t driving home and seeing Christmas lights …
My favorite part of the day, wasn’t even eating a spoonful of freshly whipped cream.
It was sitting across from my son at a table of six, making eye contact with him and getting the giggles. No words were exchanged, they weren’t needed – and we sat trying hard not to laugh as we shared a private joke.
It proved to be impossible and Nicholas ended up leaving the table before he completely lost it.
We laugh … A LOT! Just moments ago – we hugged and I told him “I love you – I’m thankful for you. ”
I’m so blessed to have such a strong connection with my son. Having spent so much time together alone (that didn’t sound right to me the first time I said it either) we have a bond that is unbreakable.
Hope all who celebrated Thanksgiving and Hanukkah today had many moments that made them smile – and many things to be grateful for.
Here is a sampling of our day.
Pre-dinner silly poses. I pointed out the sticky-up-hair after the pic 😉
Still unfed – but full of happy
The table – pre-food laden
Visited by my moms dog – Meesha
Went outside to escape the smell of the cooking food – Nic caught a candid moment
Now I’m just really restless and messing around
AND THEN!
I had no room for dessert – except for that spoonful of whipped cream. 😉
Tomorrow – we’ll recover from a week of food debauchery – no black Friday for us.
If you plan on going – be careful out there!
Thankful … every day
Thanksgiving is just around the corner.
I’ve been reading my friends daily statuses declaring what they’re thankful for – been skirting around the people hovering over the turkeys in the grocery stores, and rolling my eyes at the premature Christmas commercials.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not a Grinch.
I love this time of year – the Season that squeezes out a little extra joy from people. I don’t even mind the decorations being up early, it’s nice to see festive lights and warm sentiments on a chilly day.
That being said – I’m not really a ‘Thanksgiving Day’ fan.
For a few reasons. One being that I’m from England and didn’t grow up celebrating Thanksgiving. There is an equivalent in the UK, ‘Harvest Festival’ – I recall it lasted longer than one day, but the premise of being thankful and contributing food to the community was the same?
I also have a problem with the whole Pilgrim/Indian story angle. A tale of a peaceful, bountiful meal shared between two blended cultures. Historically accurate? Um, no. Here’s a great article: What Really Happened at the First Thanksgiving? The Wampanoag Side of the Tale
The Indians – Native Americans – were ultimately wronged. And you can color that however you want – but I’m not buying it. Not even if it’s on sale at midnight at one of the greedy chain stores.
Another reason I’m not a huge fan of the fourth Thursday of November … the day after it.
Black Friday is a most obnoxious example of consumerism. The fact that it comes directly on the heels of the day when people are supposedly thankful for what they have, just makes it even more obnoxious in my book.
The only part of Thanksgiving I can get behind, (other than eating stuffing and brussel sprouts) is the Giving of Thanks.
I’m of the mind that we should be doing this every day – but, the fact that a day is set aside for it is certainly a beautiful thing.
So, with 2013 drawing to a close – I’ll share with you what I am most thankful for this year.
Rainer
When I chose to watch the documentary Hitlers Children on May 25th – I had no idea what effect it would end up having on my life.
A random selection on a topic I wanted to know more about – turned out not to be so random. I was learning of Rainer’s existence on the day he came to exist. His birthday.
As I sat there, crying – completely undone by his need to be a part of some change in the world – to take something horrific and find something good to do with it – I was moved to write my post ‘There is Such Good.’
What happened after that was a chain of events that led to becoming a small part of his big world.
www.daserbedeskommandanten.com was born and more than that – something very special cemented between us after over a thousand conversations.
There IS such good – and Rainer is good. Er ist mein Held.
My friends
I have the most amazing friends. I don’t get to spend much time with them, but it doesn’t seem to matter. When we are together, it’s as if no time has passed.
From my sweet friend that has the uncanny ability to show up without me having to say ‘I need someone to show up’ – to the friends I work with who make every day magical and my California friends that reach out and keep me laughing via Facebook.
And then there is my ‘BF’. The miles that separate my best friend and I are creatively bridged with daily chats – sharing of jokes and photos, quotes and discussions. I miss her – but we are always connected. There isn’t a room in my home that doesn’t have a piece of her in it.
When I am going through hard times, or joyous ones – all of my friends are there for me. And I hope they know, I am always here for them.
I’m so fortunate to have people in my life who love me for who I am, who think differently than me, who are genuine and trustworthy. For that I am so blessed and very grateful.
This blog
I love to write almost as much as I love to read.
I’ve been able to purge and process major life events here with you. I am all over the place with this blog, I know, but, there is a common theme.
Life.
Motherhood, daily concerns, stress, happiness, gratitude and venting – all here. Interviews with amazing people and photographs of things that caught my eye. All here. All me. All shared.
I remember being so nervous about going public – but I had to be brave. I wrote for a while anonymously, with only a few trusted friends knowing where to find the blog. Now when I publish a new post – I immediately tell the world.
I really am an open book – I can’t comfortably function in life with secrets. I can’t comfortably live in my skin without truth.
This blog has been very comforting.
My job
Yes, it’s been a topic I’ve vented about. But, just work in particular, not my specific job. I love my job. The other day when I was walking to the kitchen in my building – I felt … at home. I love the people I work with. We are like a family. And, I am very aware that I am fortunate enough to have a job that makes a positive difference in people’s lives. I get to be a part of someone obtaining a home.
I am also very grateful for my part-time job – although I complain about that too. (I really need to stop complaining.) Again, it isn’t ‘the job’ that I vent about – it’s more so the fact that I have no choice but to do it.
I think I hoped that by 44, my ducks would be in more of a relaxed row – but I still struggle. Struggle is good – it makes us strong – but I think I’m done doing everything by myself now. I’m tired and ready for the next chapter in my life.
My son
Oh Nicholas. The center of my world. The person that genuinely makes me laugh out loud on a daily basis. The boy who taught me what true love was and became a man who teaches me more about myself than he knows. I would lay down and die without hesitation for my boy.
I also choose to live for him. To be the best person I am capable of being for him. I wanted to give him the world – and this year, I am so grateful that he was able to see some of it!
What started as a hopeful dream – a seemingly unobtainable goal – happened. It really happened. Nicholas spent a month and a half in England. He met family and friends, visited the city I was born and the street where I grew up.
I’m so grateful he was exposed to another culture – to history – to his own heritage. I hope he looks back on that trip with fondness for the rest of his life – and I pray he adds more adventures and never stops exploring our beautiful world.
Everything
Truly. Just … everything.
Everything I have, everything I don’t have. I am thankful for my family, music, art, dreams, stories, animals. For hope and love and butterflies in my stomach.
Everyday I am thankful for waking up. For the ability to see colors, hear sounds, smell fragrances – feel, hold, touch and to think (too much <– right Rainy? lol)
I am thankful for diversity, variety and for sameness too – I am thankful for humanity and … I am thankful for you.
It’s ‘Fine’
Yesterday, for a myriad of reasons – I was upset. Physically hurting and my emotional nerves exposed.
I was shamefully aware of my negative attitude.
I tried to sequester myself as much as I could, tried to limit the words that came out of my mouth – because I knew they were being tainted by my mood.
I still had to interact though – when people came to me. I kept my responses short – bit down on the bitchy verbal Tourette’s that strained to come out of my mouth.
I failed a couple of times – but owned it. I said to one person, ‘God, I’m sorry – I am being a completely unreasonable bitch.’
To be fair, (to myself for once), my responses were not completely unreasonable. But if there’s one thing I’ve practiced to a fairly consistent level of aptitude – it is choosing to filter my responses and to find a positive way to respond, rather than react.
Then my son called.
Why, oh why do we hurt the ones we love?
I think it has a lot to do with having more interaction with them than anyone, mixed with the arrogant assumption that our loved ones will forgive us. Also, lashing out stems from fear, and where there is great emotion – there is something that we care greatly about behind it.
The phone call came at a bad time, (Okay, any hour yesterday was a ‘bad time’) and unless he was calling to tell me he loved me and by the way, the house was clean, laundry done and a cake magically appeared in the fridge, there wasn’t anything he could have said to his advantage.
I was upset that he stayed up most of the night before – I was upset that our conversations about him doing more around the house had not resulted in him actually doing more around the house. I was upset that … let’s face it, I was just upset.
I spat words at him – and when he reacted – I struck again. Verbally. I reached a point where I could not be a part of the conversation any longer and … CLICK!
I hung up.
I’ve told him one of the worst things you can do is hang up on someone. It’s rude – it’s unkind – it’s immature. Apropos response on my behalf I suppose, considering I was being rude, unkind and immature.
5 O’Clock finally arrived.
I drove home – with my tail between my legs. (Which is a quite uncomfortable to sit by the way.)
When we finally spoke – I apologized. I calmly expressed my frustrations and we spoke eye to eye.
I apologized for the way I spoke to him and he said, “Mom, it’s fine.”
That didn’t sit well with me.
“No,” I said, “no it’s not fine. It may be forgivable – perhaps even to some degree understandable – but it is NOT ‘fine’ for someone to speak to you that way. Don’t you go through life thinking that it is.”
No matter how hurt, angry or exposed I feel, I will keep practicing the choice to respond positively – and if I can’t – I’ll practice removing myself from the situation until I can.
Because negative reactions are never ‘fine’.
fine1
-
1.of high quality.“this was a fine piece of filmmaking”
synonyms: excellent, first-class, first-rate, great, exceptional, outstanding, quality, superior, splendid, magnificent, exquisite, choice, select, prime, supreme, superb, wonderful, superlative, of high quality, second to none; More “fine wines”antonyms: poor -
(of a person) worthy of or eliciting admiration.“what a fine human being he is”
synonyms: worthy, admirable, praiseworthy, laudable, estimable, upright, upstanding, respectable More “a fine citizen” -
good; satisfactory.“relations in the group were fine”
synonyms: all right, acceptable, suitable, good (enough), passable, satisfactory, adequate, reasonable, tolerable; More informalOK“the initiative is fine, but it’s not enough on its own”antonyms: unsatisfactory -
used to express one’s agreement with or acquiescence to something.“anything you want is fine by me, Linda”
-
synonyms: impressive, imposing, striking, splendid, grand, majestic, magnificent, stately More “a fine old house”
-
-
1.in a satisfactory or pleasing manner; very well.““And how’s the job-hunting going?” “Oh, fine.””
Debauchery Soup 