hello annabelle

I've been feeling that little tug that says it's time. It happens every time I try to distance myself from the work. For the last few years I have had loads of excuses for not writing. I'm too tired. I'm uninspired. Scout zaps all my energy. There's so much to do around the house. And my favorite...there's no time.

And then it arrives, the need to buy a new journal, get a purple pen, and the urge to stay up after everyone else has gone to bed. Then the words come and they won't leave me alone. It's a phrase that I know is the beginning of something, or a word that begs for a partner and haunts my space.

The tug turns into a pinch, which turns into a brick wall in the face. Get back to work. This is my fate. The pursuit of beautiful nagging words that must be put together to become more than the sum of their parts becomes the very reason I exist. My muse, (hello dear Annabelle), has returned with a vengeance. And she's not leaving anytime soon.

I am here tonight because she made me come. I don't really know how all of this will turn out, except to say that it will turn out. And I will write here, and there, and in that new journal, with a purple pen.

This is just a beginning again.

ice day

Working from home today. The last few days I have been driving to Iowa in dense fog - the entire earth seems shrouded in white. Desolation seems the theme, and then, rising gracefully out of the haze there's this tree. It is stately, tall, and crystallized, and I am amazed at its beauty. I think to myself, this is something I should appreciate. This is something that I should notice. Afraid to stop, I keep driving and wish I had a camera. This will not last, and I will forget when the fog lifts and the sun shines. I will never remember the quiet of this morning. Not sure how to feel about this.

So many of life's special moments are this way. When Scout takes my face in his hands and gently rubs my cheeks, or the way he "reads" his favorite books to me, getting some of the words mixed up, and looking to me for guidance. Will I forget the serious look he gets on his face when he's puzzled, or the joy I see when I surprise him at daycare and he rushes into my arms and says, "Mommy."

While the human brain is amazing, in its imperfection it omits the memories of these little details of life in favor of important dates or deadlines. And I wish the opposite were true. I wish I had a camera in my pocket every day so that I could take the picture that would record these moments. And then I remember that the camera can't record the feelings, the joy, the awe, the silence. Just pictures. Words are in the same way never good enough to help us relive those moments.

And so for me the takeaway is this: Stop, close your eyes, and be - in that moment, in that place, with that feeling. See what there is to see, not just on the surface, but the essence. Hear the silence, feel the joy, touch the magic places and know that they are fleeting. It is in those moments, we are one with what is divine and awesome and perfect. It is in those moments that we are truly alive.

So it's Saturday, and I realize just how long it's been since I sat in front of this screen and tried to write something that's not about education or technology. But that's really okay. As for jobs, I have one of the good ones.

But Steve is working and Scout is sleeping and my Christmas tree is still up - though a bit droopy - and I'm trying to make myself be motivated to take it down. Probably not going to happen.

The sun is shining here in South Dakota, but the snow still reaches the for the top of the windows and cold is the word of the day, and the day before, and the day before that. It reaffirms the extent to which one will go for love. Before meeting Steve, I would never have considered hanging my hat in this state of extremes. But perhaps it is a reflection of me in some ways. I've never been one to take the middle ground, but have always set up shop on one end of an issue or the other, so it is somehow fitting that I now live in a place where temperatures, landscapes, even cornfields are extreme - stretching for miles under the summer sun, or looking like tundra when the snow blankets them.

My mind longs to find time to work on "my stuff" - an unfinished book, a poem or two, and this space where I can write just about anything I want. Now that I've found a few moments, I feel as if there is nothing in me to write.

I could write about the way the snow sparkles in the sun, or the way the drifts rise and fall. I could write about temperatures that are below zero, that make it virtually unihabitable in this place. I could write about missing my people in Ohio and in Texas. Maybe when it's been so long there are too many topics.

Right now the keyboard feels good under my fingertips, but I am being poked to action by unfinished laundry and cats to feed. There is no peace - and that's where the not-writing begins.

Maybe next week, when Steve is fishing on the ice in Minnesota, I will find the peace to write.

quiet

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.

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

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

my little sandman

Photos from our Myrtle Beach vacation last month...

firefly magic

According to the news, the fireflies are out in force as it's mating season. The girls, they say, sit quietly in the grass, while the boys display their flashy tails trying to get their attention. I've always been fascinated by the fireflies, and love the fact that they're flourishing - and mating - in my backyard. We used to call them lightning bugs. And as savage as this sounds, after catching them in a jar, we liked to pull off the little lights and make sparkling jewelry from thier lights. Okay...not such a nice thing to do. I'd never do it now. But I gotta say it was fun at the time. I didn't think much about the insect lives I was taking.

There is some sort of magic in it all...the way they cast their spell on an ordinary night. I makes me think that somewhere in the universe, the source of all creation is winking and wearing a big smile. Come to think of it, there are lots of bits of magic right in front of our faces. The simple fact that flowers bloom, the wings of hummingbirds move at alarming speeds, and the moon and gravity determine the rise and fall of the tides. And then there's love...the way one heart seeks out another and finds its home. And from this love, babies are made. Minute cells multiply and become another little human with sparkling eyes. These little humans see the magic. Every day is an adventure. All is new and nothing is overlooked.

Each day I am grateful for Scout, and the opportunites he shares with me. He lets me see the magic that for awhile went unnoticed. Through his eyes, the world is a great amusement park, one in which he takes me by the hand and says, "Isn't this amazing, Mommy?"

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.

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.

gratitude

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.

wednesday morning

Today I am feeling hopeful. Hopeful that the day will be sunny and that I can play catch up. I have become much less tied to the little "shoulds" and have become much more interested in the joy. There are always things that must be done, but not too many. Once one realizes this, life is better.

I choose to get outside today - to enjoy the coming of spring. It's late in South Dakota this year, with snow in the forecast and cold breezes. But the bulbs are planted and a tiny yellow crocus has erupted in the flower bed behind the sunroom. This gives me hope for a beautiful summer. I went shopping with Pam last night and found some fabulous summer clothes including some adorable plaid bermuda shorts that are a size or two smaller than my pre-baby clothes. I must say they look great on me, even though they may not be "age appropriate."

Deb visited yesterday. We worked on a brochure for her and took a few headshots for the bio. We laughed a lot. I needed that. Perhaps life is returning to normal. Though I do realize that my new normal is quite a bit different from the old.

Scout and I are still cutting teeth, but we aren't nearly as crabby as we've been. With a little luck on our side, we may nap peacefully this afternoon.

cutting teeth

I expected it. The baby has begun cutting teeth, and I can't help but to make the connection that I, too, am cutting teeth. The last year has been immensely interesting and full of change. Most of all, I have learned to expect the unexpected. I find myself at 46 the mother of a seven month old baby who needs me for everything. This unexpected change of plans has me relearning how to spend my days. In my pre-baby life, I woke up, had some coffee, did some writing, worked a little, played a little, and thought that it would be nice to get out a bit. It was spontaneously free of THINGS I MUST DO. And now, it seems it is mostly made up of these THINGS. While the baby's smile makes most everything worthwhile, there are moments when I miss the old stuff. These moments are fleeting, but I can't deny their existence. So I won't. I have no regrets, but this cutting teeth thing is a bit painful. My mommy voice is getting old to me. I find myself talking about important things like finding the monkey that gives kisses and whether or not Scout should eat peas or carrots. Adult conversation is a rare commodity, and I continually fear the approach of the Soccer Mom in me. I never was very sporty, turning instead to books and paints. So perhaps I'll be the mom who takes her kid to art class on Tuesday after school. This I could handle. This I can wrap my head around.
My writing is in the toilet, as I'm finding it hard to put to coherent sentences together and make tiny editing mistakes on a regular basis - my pet peeve. Journaling...a think of the past. This little blog is my only outlet for creativity and it's lacking perspective and continuity. I just don't ever know which direction to choose.
What I know is that I love my new life, but it's different than my old life - the life I fully expected. It is precarious, with potential pitfalls around every corner...organic baby food? fluoride? chlorine free diapers? sleepless nights? working from home? making time to water the plants and clean the kitchen? the importance of spirit? There are so many choices to make and so much to do in addition to being a mom. What's a girl to do? Eat ice cream with lots of hot fudge and a touch of caramel I think. Laugh while the baby inspects his hands. Enjoy the awakening earth as spring manifests itself. Take hot baths when time permits and use my lifelines. Today I will "phone a friend." I don't want to be a millionaire, I just want to be comfortable with my new teeth.

thursday morning

Girls just want to have fun...that includes me. Seems like lately the world has not been fun. Cyndi Lauper would be disappointed and so am I. I'm not sure of the problem. I've always been one to find laughter in the face of a crisis. There is no crisis, only days on end filled with lots of non-fun. Perhaps the weather has something to do with it, or the fact that I have only one friend...well, maybe two. I keep waiting for the snow to stop falling. The sky teases me one day with warm sunshine then pulls it back, dropping half a foot of snow the next. This seems unfair, though I'm starting to remember the long winters of my childhood in Ohio. And while I love the snow, April is a bit late to be waiting on a winter storm to appear from the west.

With global warming and all, I can't help but wonder just where we'll be 10 years from now. But it seems to reason that we will not be having snow in April - for this I will be thankful.

I'm so absolutely tired of the politics on television. At this point, the outcome seems predictable, so why don't we forgo spending all the money and time and just let Obama take over the presidency. If he could do it now that would be good. I remain a supporter of Hillary, but no longer believe in her ability to be nominated. So can't we just cut to the chase. The Obama fever will soon break, and Americans will complain again, always looking for the new guy to save them. And I do mean new guy, since it has become apparent that America is still not ready for a woman to run the country. In general that is. I am ready...been ready...will remain ready. Many people are not. I've heard so many men say, "She scares me." What's that? Is it that they don't know how to deal with strong women standing up for themselves and what's right? She is anything but scary...so I don't get it.

What is so not scary is my morning. The baby is happy. I'm happy. The coffee is good...and there is peace. I did clear my chakras last night and go to sleep with gratitude. Maybe it helped.

ambivalence

The past few weeks I have been fighting the flu and ambivalence. My feelings have been so mixed. I love Scout. I love our time together. I love to watch him smile and grow and discover the world. I try to be totally present with him. To not get distracted by the things that I think I need to do. I'm finding it quite difficult to be a stay at home mom with a job - actually multiple jobs - that need to be finished. I feel as if my days are full with taking care of the baby and meeting his needs. In the quiet times, I try to do my work. There is no relief. And when Steve comes home, he tries to help, but the baby is pretty much of a mommy's boy. Not his fault. He is with me all day and all night every day. There is no family close by, no one to pick him up when I'm feeling overwhelmed. His world has become me. And mine him. And Steve is the relief pitcher when I can no longer do it. I miss my mom and my sisters, and wish I could make a phone call to say...come over and hold him for awhile and we'll drink coffee and laugh.

And I want so much to appreciate him and to not be mad at Steve, who sleeps through the night most nights, when all I want is to go to bed and sleep all night long. Just one or two nights would help.

I suppose I know that this time will soon be gone, when Scout simply wants his mother, to curl up next to me or lay his head on my shoulder. I want so much to enjoy it, but have trouble sometimes when exhaustion is all I feel.

An old friend passed last night after months of being ill. He was "old". He was ready to leave the world. He is finally at rest. I know one day that will be me. I hope to be able to look back and know I appreciated all that the universe offered to me over the course of my life. Scout, Steve, Meg, Jonathan, my family, my home and the love that was always present.

But on days when I am too tired, I'm ambivalent.