Wednesday, June 17, 2009


Tonight is weird. Steve is gone fishing for a few days and Scout is in bed. The dogs are with Steve and the house is QUIET. It's never this quiet. The only sounds are my fingers tapping the keyboard and the low hum of the baby monitor. Once in awhile I hear Scout sigh in his sleep. Can't remember a night like this for a very long time. Can't decide if I like it or not. It is peaceful. And my mind is resting. Usually at this time of the night I am rushing around to get things ready for tomorrow. But not tonight. Things seem to have gone very smoothly.

So I'm writing this from my bed and thinking about how much things have changed over the last two weeks.

Steve has been so busy at work and under the weather. With me working full time now, it feels as if we seldom have time together. The job is good. I think it will be really good as time goes on. I'm learning so much and feel blessed to be spending the day with such great people. I'm amazed at how well they all work together. And I think they're actually - genuinely nice. And I love the adult conversation. I didn't realize just how much I'd missed it. So I've switched gears. Now I just miss Scout. Sounds weird, missing such a little boy. But for almost two years, he has been my sun, and I his earth. He shines and I bask in it. And I am what grounds him. The mornings, when I leave him with Miss Jen, are so tough for both of us. We're so glad to see each other when we're reunited each night. I love all the little things he does, like humming the ABC song and actually feeling better when I kiss his injured fingers or toes. I love how he counts everything and the way he says "eleven" and "silly". I love the time we spend right before bedtime reading his favorite books and the way he cuddles up with me and hugs my neck.

How this will all pan out I'm not sure. I feel as if I've lost a part of my life that I love, but in the same breath, a part of me that I thought was gone forever has returned. I'm writing again, which means the world to me, and I'm meeting people and remembering what the world was like pre-Scout. It's all still a little precarious, and I feel as if I'm walking on a tightrope, trying to be sure that everyone and everything in my life remains in balance.

And right now, I miss Steve, and the way he makes little noises when he falls asleep.

Friday, June 05, 2009

the next adventure

I start a new job on Monday, which will be an adventure for the entire family. Ever since I lived in South Dakota I have been working at home. Life has been flexible. While I'm excited, I'm a little anxious. I'm ready to step into the future, but reluctant to leave my old life behind, especially the part where I hear Scout wake up, get him out of bed, open the blinds and we say, "Good Morning, World." Then we cuddle for as long as it takes to feel like starting the day. We play and sing and dance and color pictures. I'm afraid this almost routine will take its new time slot on weekend mornings.

This morning was hard. Scout had his first half day of daycare on Wednesday. He did fine. This morning was his second day. Not so fine. He understands now that I will leave him for awhile, and that he's stuck at Miss Jen's. This morning he didn't want me to leave. His little bottom lip pouched out and he was on the verge of tears when I gave him a hug and walked out the door. I'm not so good with that. Intellectually I know it's good for him to be with other kids and to learn and play without Mommy. Emotionally I'm not so sure. My heart was heavy as I turned the car key in the ignition. I wanted to rescue him and tell him how I didn't want to be apart from him either. I wanted him to know that together we could get through this. But I've read the books and the articles and know that lingering makes it tougher. So I drove away.

Sitting alone now I miss his little voice and his warm little body. But time will pass quickly, and soon I will go and pick him up - and think about Monday, when I have to leave him for an entire day. Ick.

Motherhood hurts today. The house is empty and quiet, and my baby is growing up.

Thursday, May 28, 2009


The sun is shining this morning and Scout is still asleep. I'm ready to start the day and thrilled with the thought that each day offers time to spend with my littlest friend and fellow traveler in this world. He teaches me so much. When he sings his favorite song, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, I think about the universe and its beauty. When he counts I think about the wonders of the way a child learns, and when he smiles I glow. This sort of love is priceless and beautiful. Spending time with him makes me realize just how many things in my world have gone unnoticed for a long time. He opens my eyes and ears. He teaches patience and persistance. He teaches joy and gratitude.

And while all is well here at home, I feel anxious about the job opportunity that has come forward for me. After an awesome interview, I wait. I feel confident that the offer is forthcoming, but now that I've decided that it's what I want, I am ready to move into that new adventure. And so today I am manifesting with my entire soul that the phone will ring and I can set off on this new path very soon. In the meantime I am enjoying each day with Scout.

What is the lesson in the waiting? Patience for sure. Endurance? Living in the moment? In any case, I am present to my feelings and know that divine timing moves us through life. Things happen when they should, as they should. I will be off to work soon, and Scout will be setting off on an adventure of his own, meeting new friends and learning his own lessons.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

Scout just hanging out....

Just wanted to share...he's so much fun!

brain surgery

Throughout my whole life I have felt very comfortable that as long as it wasn't "brain surgery" there was nothing to fear, no challenge too fierce, and no road too rocky. And so I took risks and put myself out there on the line, virtually sure that as long as no one's life was in my hands I was good to go. Pretty simple rule to live by, and quite full of adventure.

The next rule was that if I tried something and decided that I wasn't so good at it, I wouldn't do it anymore. The truth is if I wasn't good at it I didn't really like to do it anyway. Another easy choice with the benefit that people believe I'm good at just about anything. What they don't know is that I live by this second rule pretty much all the time so my life looks pretty peachy.

Here's the light bulb moment. I was thinking about why I never wanted to have a baby before I got pregnant with Scout. The answer to this question has lots of facets, but when it comes right down to it, I think that I didn't know if I would be good at it or not. And AFTER having a child would be the wrong time to decide that I might not be so good at it. Additionally, you can't really just choose not to be a parent once your child has been born. I think perhaps that the fear was just too great to take the plunge. This and a number of other little reasons kept me from getting pregnant and having a baby.

Here's the real burn is this...raising a child IS brain surgery! Yikes...and now there's no way to go back. I look at this innocent little cherub and think, "Oh my, I do have his life in my hands." This is quite frightening to me all of a sudden. I suppose it's because I'm contemplating going back to work full time. Is this a good idea? Do I have any options? Can I find enough freelance work to allow me to continue to stay home with Scout and be there any time he needs me? Is this healthy anyway? Enough of that.

Now it seems as if every decision I make must be evaluated and reevaluated with my new found knowledge. There's no more just hanging out and letting him eat ice cream for breakfast. (I've only done it once, seriously.) There's no more giving in so easily because I know it's better to set rules so he knows how to be in this world. There's no more letting him pour water all over the kitchen floor just so he can have fun making a mess. (I've only done this once, seriously...but it was pretty much fun for both of us.)

If it truly is brain surgery...I need to be a little more mindful. Deb says not to worry...just love him unconditionally and he'll be fine. And you know what, that sounds so much easier. I wonder if we have any more ice cream.

Monday, March 02, 2009

getting back to business

I think the free ride is over. It's time for me to get my head back in the business game. I have dabbled at working for the last year, finding jobs here and there, mostly from loyal clients I've known for years. But I'm restless for a challenge, and the need to work is haunting me. Scout is the best reason of all for resisting the urge to get some new local clients and hitting the networking circuit. I so want to be there for him. Being the "mature" mother that I am, I know our time together on this earth is fleeting. I want to make the most of every minute. But life happens around us, and I need to get back to work. I am still not sure if I should concentrate on writing or design. One is definitely more lucrative than the other, and will loosen up the budget more quickly. But my heart longs to put words on the page. Perhaps a little of both makes the most sense. Regardless....I know it's time.

How to make this happen eludes me just now. I have few contacts in this city I now call home. I realize that I am discerning when it comes to friends, but the fact that I've made so few seems a bit ridiculous. I've volunteered my services for a couple of non-profits, hoping it would bring in a little "for-profit" business - but that hasn't happened. What's a girl to do.

I think I will start with this, move on to a new business name, logo and business package, learn to build web sites, and hopefully, the rest will fall into place as it always has. I have always trusted that when the time was right, the new work would come. And I trust now. So I suppose I just have to be ready to prove I'm the girl for the job when the knock comes. I'll get all the pieces in place and leave the business of my business to the universe. In the meantime, I'll enjoy my time with my son - with the emphasis on "joy."

Friday, February 27, 2009

napping and other serious topics

I'm tired, now and most of the time. Scout is napping and I ask myself, what is it that I should do? My body says nap. My mind says, don't even think about it. There is always something more "productive" that needs attention. From sorting clean socks to cleaning up pebbles of cat litter around the box, I have things to do. The thing about nap time is that it's a source of frustration on all fronts.

Scout is in the "I don't ever want to take a nap" phase. At least that's what his little brain believes. And so some days he gently falls asleep in my arms after a book or two, and other days he points to the bedroom door and says, "out." And he means it. So I lay him in the crib and say it's time to sleep. I'll be back in a little while, after you sleep. He cries for a bit, then gives in - usually.

All the experts say, "stick to a regular schedule." Did they ever have children and a life at the same time? My guess is no. If one tries to regain a life with a toddler, they realize it is next to impossible when you stick to a regular schedule. Bees buzz, cars zoom by, and I watch from my window, following the schedule. A free spirit at heart, this goes against my natural unscheduled rhythm. My need to get out at the drop of a hat is squelched by "the schedule."

I'm taking a short vacation in a week, and know that the schedule will go by the wayside. When I return I intend to regain my freedom of movement a bit. My child will sleep when he's tired. We will spend time outside until we're done, and visit the museum and the library - naptime or not. When bedtime comes, as it always does, Scout will stick his little fingers in my bellybutton and close his eyes, and drift off to sleep. And we will have had an adventurous, and perhaps napless, day.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

a do-over

Those of you who know me know that over the last few years I have been granted a "do-over." How many times have you thought to yourself, "I wish I could have a do over." And so I am the lucky one. At least for the most part. What I've learned is that a do-over can be a really great thing. Do-overs allow for mistake correction and the ability to create an "unacceptable list" for your new life.

My do-over is immensely rewarding in many ways, not least of which is my adorable son, who may never have had an opportunity to live here on earth if not for my do-over. I am reconnecting with the snow, which I've loved and lost and love again. I have found my voice again, and I'm able to speak my truth without fear. And I have a really great man in my life who loves me true. He gets it.
On the other hand, there are unforseen risks of which you should be aware. A new start means leaving things behind. For instance, in a charming show of love, I made homemade noodles and chicken soup for my family, but realized my tried and true rolling pin was no longer in my possession. Floating around Houston no doubt, and never used. Owning a rolling pin was never on the unacceptable list (which includes things such as ridiculous arguements, unfounded anger and walking on eggshells), yet it seems to have been left behind. Financial independence, left behind. Regular pedicures, left behind. Writing group, left behind. A sister within driving distance, left behind. I am left wondering if things like rolling pins and writing groups are necessities or if they are simply encumbering and freedom snatching. Mostly I think that these missing little joys can be replaced - but it's not as easy as you may think.
Life is again an adventure. Things that had become rote are no longer routine and every day is new. Just when I thought I knew how to live this life most efficiently and effectively, I am back at the beginning of establishing ground rules, understanding a new family, finding my way here, making new friends and figuring out my place in this world. And the only way to begin is to begin...with a new rolling pin, I think.