Friday, May 30, 2008

the last friday in may

Summer...I sort of forget just what it feels like. It's been a rainy, cool spring. And this girl is over it. The sun is just peeking through the clouds, at least for a while. And the weatherman says it will be 80 degrees today. Because of the rain, it's humid and sticky.

The baby is crying. I've been working on getting him down for a nap each morning and each afternoon. Today I was blessed. I put him in the bed at 10:30 as planned. It was going well...for five minutes, until Buddy started barking. And so now he's awake and unhappy. And I want to kill the dog. Not sure just what to do about it. I'm so tired of dogs and cats. If I just had the baby here, it would be much easier. But such is not the case and right now I'm over that too. So I listen to Scout wail. He wants to get out of the bed. He stands, holds onto the rail and cries. And I feel helpless. Knowing that he needs to nap, and knowing that I'm doing the right thing doesn't help when I sit and listen to him cry. I can feel the tension building in my neck and it's early in the day. Not a great way to begin.

There is work to be done, which isn't happening when I can't think.

Okay...I went in to reassure him, patted his back for a few minutes, and he's asleep for now. Perhaps we can start over. The dog may find a new home in the kennel if he doesn't learn to be quiet at nap time.

The family Myrtle Beach trip is around the corner and I can't wait. Just the thought of being with "my people" thrills me. They will love the baby, and will want to love on him, and me. And I so need it. I am so very tired of missing them so. I feel like the entire childbirth and first eight months may have been easier if they had been closer, if they might of been able to stop by and hold him and have picnics in the yard. I wish so that they were here. I tell myself that if I hadn't moved to South Dakota there would be no Scout. And so I know that things are as they should be. But there are times I so want to pack up our lives here and move closer to my family. I want my dad to know his grandson, and I want my son to know his aunties. I want my mom to be close enough to come over when I need some reassurance, and I want someone to back me when I don't want to give Scout sugar. Perhaps down the road this will be possible. But for now I am here and they are there and I have to wait for Myrtle Beach - just two weeks now.

Sometimes I get up and wonder how all this happened. And then I know. Love happens. Babies are the beautiful manifestation of that love. I am happy. I love.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

memorial day misery

I know that the last holiday is all about remembering, but this one I'd like to forget. Let's just say camping with 4 adults, 3 dogs and 1 8-month old in a fifth wheel isn't all it's cracked up to be...especially when it rains and the wind is ruthless.

I should have trusted my gut, which was relentlessly telling me to stay home. As I packed, it tugged at me. All through the day, it tugged at me, as we got into the truck, it tugged at me. But optimistic me wasn't listening. It will be fine, I told myself. It wasn't fine.

Friday night was bad enough, with no room for all the gear we had brought along. The pull out camper sized sofa wasn't nearly big enough for Steve, me, three dogs and one sleepy baby who refused to sleep in the Pack 'n Play. Needless to say, while I listened to the wind blow and Steve and Dory (our cocker spaniel) snore, I lay awake most of the night, wrestling with Scout who couldn't get comfortable.

Day one, I'm tired and it's raining and windy. I was alone with Scout and the dogs in the camper most all day while the others on the trip went about their regular camping business. By the time Steve returned, I was cranky, not having fun and wanted nothing more than to go home. Elaborating on the rest of this trip will only make me mad all over again, and so I will just say that camping and me while the baby is so young is probably unlikely.

I was never so glad to get home to my own house and sleep in my own bed with a little space and a lot of relief.

And so today I am home, and grateful, and doing my own thing all day long. I will forget this Memorial Day with time. Scout rests and I post and life is good.

Saturday, May 10, 2008


Today I was touched. Perhaps it's the approach of Mother's Day, people all over cyberspace sending me these heart wrenching messages about being a mom. Perhaps it's the fact that Steve surprised me by dropping me off this morning to be pampered with a massage. Or perhaps it's the Brian Andreas prints that I was looking at - each one touches my soul. Perhaps it's because Scout is sleeping and Steve is out and I'm alone feeling blessed but missing "my people."

Whatever the reason, tears have been my company this early afternoon. They're not the heavy ones that accompany sobs, nor are they terribly sad. I think instead they're a mix of all things beautiful and bright and bittersweet. They are for memories and friends left behind, they are for the beauty of morning and for the peace of softly falling rain. They are for new beginnings and for a heart heavy with love of a child. They are for finally finding true love and gentleness. They are for stillness and friendship. They are for the scattered pieces of my life that I have left behind, only to find new pieces of myself. And for all of this I am grateful.

I feel ever so connected with life and that which is unseen. The energy that ebbs and flows between all living things - the twisted way that all things intertwine to make a life. My life.

When I am ready to pass from this place to the next, I will smile and know that I truly lived an adventure, and that every falling feather, every touch, every chance meeting led me to joy. And for this, today I am grateful.