Day Eighty-Three, Sassy on a Saturday Night

I'm not sassy, that's not what I'm saying, it's everybody else. No, no I jest, I just thought all the words in the title went well together. Really everyone is tucked into bed as I write this, and seeing as I slept through most of the last show we watched together, as a family, I guess I'm ready for bed too. First I must catalog a few things.

First, I have noticed the TR and I tend to put off projects we really need to get done for things that should get done but don't have to take a priority. Why is that? I do not know, probably because we fear that they will prove too difficult or take too long, so we refocus our attention to things that we believe we can accomplish more easily, even if they don't have as much impact on our lives. I have noticed that I am always ready to buy supplies for a project, though most of the time I don't complete that same project. Moving on, second, I was just telling a parent from ex-work that Mr. D hadn't contacted me about returning to work, and speak of the devil, Mr. D texted me as I was leaving the barn. Hmmm what does this mean? I suppose that I have a little more negotiating power, since I am not that interested in going back to what I left. I realized (some time ago during this 'leave' and again very strongly today) that I am very happy in my life. That I enjoy what I do and even though I feel guilty that I am not contributing enough, I am so grateful for the chance to explore what my life can be and what direction I want it to move in. Also for the chance to have ladies lunches, which I love.

Housekeeping accounting for the day: dishes, check, laundry, check, Mr. Dashell haircut, check, taking Primo to Tiffany's so he can buy his first girlfriend a christmas present (with his own money), check. It was a full day with enough time to sit and enjoy a little quiet time. We went to a Literary Arts reading, which was mandatory, and a little painful. Thank goodness Prima wasn't reading, she would have outshone all the other students with their strange angsty writing and they would have felt even worse than they seem to already. That is so mean, I shouldn't say that about them. I realized that the problem with their writing is that it is over-descriptive. There is so much flowery language, that I get lost in the first sentence after the sixteenth description.

Okay, I am driveling on, it is definitely time for bed. Goodnight!!!

Stumpy Joe

Day Eighty-Two, Feeling Nostalgic on Friday Night

I was scanning trough f**book before I started writing tonight, earlier I had been reading an article on the myths of detoxing to TR that one of my f**book friends had shared and we were finishing it up. I was sucked into the black hole of pithy posts as usual and found myself looking through the timeline(?) of one of the groups I belong to. I hung out with these people almost everyday for almost four years, we went to parties, shows, scooter events, and each other's houses, together. I went shopping with them, I even went to school with a few of them. As I scanned through the posts and photos, I noticed that I hardly ever show up. Granted I have never posted photos of my own and I suppose that most people share photos that show themselves. But several of the girls and guys show up in almost every photo. And it makes me wonder, if was I a bigger part of that group in my own mind.Were the friendships I forged and nurtured really not friendships at all? So I looked through another fb group, a crowd I hung out with leading up to the previously mentioned group. These were bosom buddies, folks that swore love and eternal friendship with each other and me. Once again I don't really show up nor is there any reference to me at all. I remember most of the people, I remember the faces and most of the events that are shown in the photos, but for all intents and purposes, I don't exist in either group. Now, I am not whining or feeling sorry for myself, really I am noticing a pattern I hadn't noticed before. Would it look the same if there were a group for the community I have been a part of for the last 12 years? Maybe I am just a person that fades into the background, maybe I am more an observer than a participant and so I show up differently. I wonder why I am invisible? Hmmm, invisibility is a theme that seems to run through my psyche over and over. In both cases I was invited by the creator of the group to be a member, they are closed/non-public groups and I was approached not the other way around. So to someone, somewhere I am visible, just not to the casual observer.

Okay, done with that! Today held a little laundry, some dishes, no cooking, lots of writing, I am about  350 words behind on my book, but I didn't really write at all yesterday so I wrote A LOT today. The story is coming along nicely, I am surprised at how fluidly it flows out when it's there. I must admit I spend quite a bit of time fidgeting with the story, until I hit on something and then it just rushes out. I think tomorrow I would like to try to spend some time with no time limit, just to see how far I get. Part of my obstacle is my inner voice constantly telling me that what I am doing is pointless, useless. No one will publish, let alone read the book and I am being vain and foolish spending so much time on it. Come to think of it that's what the voice said when I was trying to make jewelry and the teddy bears. Maybe it's time for that voice to be silenced, and I should just do what I am trying to do. Okay that's my new plan.

I was talking with LS today, for the longest time. sharing my recent parenting hurdles and how I handled them. I started griping about this acquaintance of mine that is a total taker. I don't think she has ever actively participated in our relationship where she wasn't asking me to do a favor for her. This woman was calling and texting me all day asking for this favor or that, did I have time to show her what was available in my studio, could I give her a ride? Much later in the day LS and I were (again) on the phone and she advised me to cut the acquaintance loose. I should just tell her I am no longer available to sell crafts, I am busy and can't give rides. The problem is that I don't feel justified in EVER saying no, so I acquiesce and add so much stress to my schedule and day that by the time I am done, I am ready to explode, while she has just had her life made easier. So LS tells me to let go and be good to myself, but the she has to run because she has to pick up a child for carpool, and as she is bitterly telling me bout her carpool nightmare I realize it is the same thing that I am going through. We laughed and agreed that we would extricate ourselves from these draining relationships and it occurred to me that (wait for it...) there is a pattern there. Something based on not feeling like we are allowed to set boundaries for ourselves. That we HAVE to meet everyone else's needs  even if it is to our own detriment.

And on that note, TR just went to bed, so I am off. Goodnight!

Woodland stars in B.C.

P.S. 600 page views as of tonight ; )

Day Eight-One, Thursday Night

Leftovers, well not really, I made bolognese a couple of nights ago and I made so much that we had it again on different noodles, if you will excuse the term, I believe it is called American Chop Suey. Elbow macaroni with sauce baked with cheese on top. It was yummy and it was nice to use up things we have in the house.

My parenting skills are being put to the test in the biggest way. Fortunately I have chosen an amazing and most excellent partner (I must put the disclaimer that I HATE it when people use the word partner to describe their romantic involvement. TR is my husband, my boyfriend, my true love and only in parenting he is my partner) to raise children with. His hopes, dreams and goals for our children are so similar to mine. I don't feel alone when parenting, I know that he will support me and I hope that he knows that I will support him. He is fair, loving and reminds me to stand my ground when I need to. I am so lucky in that respect. I remember on of my students from ages ago, whose parents were split on whether they were raising their child together. the dad told the mom it was her project and she was on her own. I am so, so glad that I am in this with someone who has my back. Anyway, I am watching my children grow up and it really is herd to let them grow up and away from you. Knowing that it must be so doesn't make it easier, but doing it with TR makes it bearable.

I have been writing on my NaNoWriMo for the past few days. I am amazed how once the story gets going, it just pours out. So many funny things have happened that I never would have foretold, and as I am telling the story details just appear out of my fingertips. I feel like an author.

I took Primo to get a suit to wear to a dance that RP invited him to, he hated shopping but endured it and we got a very handsome Ben Sherman suit. We got home, he put it all away and then came down and said the RP's teacher said he can't go to the dance because he isn't a student at her school. HE took it very well, I was not so graceful, making snide comments about the exclusivity of private school, then I had unkind thoughts about the dance that school hosted two years ago where kids came drunk and brought more vodka with them. PRIVATE school kids. Harrumph. I think Primo was a little relieved and sadly it sounds like RP is really sick, maybe it's best that the dance fell through.

Now it's time for bed, so goodnight!

View at Seven Churches, Inis Mór

Day Eighty, I Could Have Gone Around the World On Wednesday Night

Nothing to report but rain and more rain. I think I might start building an ark, or is it too late? Did I need to have it built before the incessant rain started? Oh well, perhaps I can climb to the top of a mountain and wait it out.

I did not write anything on the novel today, I didn't have enough time in a row to concentrate on it, so I will double up tomorrow and write two days in one. I don't have anything else scheduled so I should be able to get 'er done.

Tonight's entry really serves as a placeholder, to say I have done it, but as it was a singularly unproductive day I just don't have much to write about or to speculate on. Here's a list of the errand-y things I did: sent off an eBay package, dishes, lunched with the ladies, took both kids to the dentist, went to the chiropractor, picked up Prima's carpool group, dropped of the carpool kids, whew! I guess I did more than I realized. So I'm off to bed, goodnight!

Possibilities

Day Seventy-Nine, In Which We Examine A Few Things On Tuesday Night

A few days ago, TR mentioned that this blog is now inaccurately named. I toyed with the idea of renaming it but in the spirit of Douglas Adams and the Hitchhiker's Guide Trilogy, I will leave it as is, a reminder if, you will, of how it started. So that has been examined, onwards, upwards.

I ran into an ex-coworker at ex-work today (I was there as, I am every Tuesday, picking up the veggie box) and we got to chatting about my job and how it kind of faded away and how I felt about that. I feel free and content, I feel like I am in my own life and that all the Big Important Things I had to focus on are not so big and important after all. I often think of Antoine de Saint-Exupréy's comment in "The Little Prince" about grown ups asking about one's new friend and wanting to know how much money they make or what their profession is, and how the really important things get left behind, that's was ex-work was like. We spent so much time harrumphing over policies and events that truly had nothing to do with the really important part of the job, which was and is the children. Anyway as we sat chatting about how I was probably not returning, because Mr. D will never call, me this ex-coworker asked me if I WANTED to return. I gave her a pat answer and went off to think about it. And I think I do not want to go back. I miss part of the job, all the people of all ages that I love(ed) and being a part of something vibrant and alive. I miss creating a safe nurturing place where there otherwise wasn't and knowing that I am doing the best I can to move the WHOLE project forward. But I don't miss working myself to the bone and then being asked for a little more. I don't miss being told about a deadline after it has happened as if I had been responsible the whole time and then being left to clean up the mess when I am the most junior member of the office. No there are enough things I don't miss to make me very happy to live in my own cozy life, taking care of my family and my house and doing all the things that need to be done by me.So that's another thing examined, are there any more? I don't know.

Today was another rainy day and here's what I know about rain, it makes me want to sit under the covers and wait for the sun to come out. Which I didn't do all the way. TR worked from home so we made breakfast together, which he had to eat cold because he was on a phone meeting when it was ready. Mamma came for a visit, I made her some breakfast and we ate together while poor TR watched us and had a meeting on the phone. Mamma and I sat on the sofa and visited for a while until she had to go home, and then I puttered around, doing dishes, canceling our long distance phone service (they charged us over $1 per minute for phone calls to B.C., I'm not paying those prices anymore!) doing anything I could to avoid the 1000+ words I was slated to write today. Was the avoidance obvious? I felt like it was screaming out across the neighborhood "Hey look! She's not writing!!! It's only been one day and she's already fallen off the wagon!" But apparently not, because when I timidly, most casually mentioned to TR that I was meant to write for the NaNoWriMo, he offhandedly responded "oh yeah, are you going to do it?"

I did in fact get it done (yay!) and I discovered that while I feared that I would sit down and there would be nothing to write because I had written it all yesterday, there was in fact bunches to put down, and with even more detail than yesterday. I would have written for ages longer but I had put it off for so long, I ran up against the kid pick up time and had to run off to do that. When Primo came home (his group had the OTHER carpool driver) and I told him what I was doing, he said, "you're writing the story down!" which for some reason made me feel really pleased, and I am glad that after all the years of saying I would write this story down, I am. Hopefully I will make all the way to the end.

It's odd, since I have been writing regularly, I haven't had the same intense drive all day long to get things done. This may sound like a contradiction to what I have been writing all these weeks, and it feels like it may be hard to explain, but I'll try. Everyday, at the end of the day by writing this blog, I accomplish something that I thought I would have given up on long ago (like the second or third day in!). Before that I ached to have something to show for my time, some kind of voice or statement and instead of quenching that desire I coupled it with inactivity which left me feeling doubly unaccomplished. Now because I have been keeping track of what I have been up to, I have been actively doing more and writing this every day keeps me on task. Even though I haven't changed the world significantly, I have kept to my word, and I feel doubly accomplished. I have noticed that every little bit counts, when I am counting it, and now, even though it is itchy and uncomfortable because I am saying it out loud, I am counting.

I am off to bed, tomorrow will no doubt be another rainy day and I will have to work HARD to combat the call of the covers. Just kidding, I have a really full day tomorrow, and I am tired now, so goodnight!

B.C. rose

Day Seventy-Eight, Ed Sheeran on Monday Morning

I am starting this early today because we are going out to dinner for Primo's belated celebration and I don't want to miss tonight's entry. Especially after noting that if I allow myself wiggle room, I will wiggle right out of whatever it is altogether. Sitting with the bright sun at my back, listening to Ed Sheeran declare his love, his sorrow, his joys and disappointments, thinking about all the things I would like to do and regretting the person that I passed by in my youth (that is the person that I chose not to be even though I wish I had let her in). I am struck by my proclamations of stillness and inactivity and how much I wish I had listened to my spirit when I was young and passionate and how much the stillness still grips me even though I know, I KNOW I will regret it when I am older. So today I am going to start my own NaNoWriMO, even though I am a month behind the nation and  have no one to go to coffee shops with or bounce ideas or progress off of. I will attempt is anyway and this, right here is my public proclamation than I will write 50,000 words this month, even with all the birthdays that will happen, with my Dad and BC's wedding, with Christmas, there will be all that and 50,000 words of mine. Even if I only write on word 50,000 times. I am going to do this. But I might not let anyone read it. I am going to start right now and I will report back here on my progress later today.

Quick update before I get ready to go pick up kids, I wrote 1907 words today which is about 240 more that the target number for day one. Yay, I have at least started and I have been working through the nasty editor in my head. At one point as I was disparaging the story, and my writing skills, I reminded myself that I swore I would do this even if I wrote only one word 50,000 times and clearly I had written way more than one word, so far I was ahead of the game.

I keep re-reading that last bit, wanting to change it until I read the whole thing and remember why I wrote it that way. Is that a reminder to look at the whole picture, that fragments don't always stand on their own? I do not know, maybe.

I spent the morning until pick up writing my book. I still haven't obtained running shoes, and started C25K, nor have I gone for the massage I keep telling myself should go for because I can feel my shoulder seizing up and I know my fingers will go numb next. I haven't even been up to the cottage in weeks, let alone worked on fixing it up, or even measured the windows. There are so many things I have not done, but I HAVE started my book. I said I would do it and I have done. Besides that not much, picking up kids, a bit of grocery shopping, washing clean (yes, I did load the dishwasher, which was mostly full of clean dishes, with dirty dishes, drip yucky stuff all over the clean ones and have to wash the whole shebang again) dishes, and the like.

We went out for Primo's birthday celebration at the House of Prime Rib, which for some reason is his favorite celebratory restaurant. It is far more expensive than it should be, but it is definitely an experience all it's own and he loves it, so once a year, we go. It was the same as usual, lots of people waiting, blimps loaded with prime rib wheeled around by chefs, carving table side. Super enthusiastic staff except the hostess, who is always different and never friendly. It was lovely, we went with MR and SM who always go with us, and they seem to be doing really well. I swear they are the busiest people, but happy and fun to be with.

Now everyone is tucked in beddy-bye waiting for sweet dreams to visit them. TR and I have turned in earlier than usual because of a lousy night's sleep last night. Before I go I do want to say that Primo came to me this morning saying that he is really happy with his life and himself. The things he cited as bringing him to this state are, being on the U15 A lacrosse team, having good grades, taking his responsibilities seriously and his girlfriend. That made me really happy. Prima spent the afternoon with me singing along  to Ed Sheeran, her voice matches his so well, she sounds so beautiful when she sings, I hope she doesn't follow in my footsteps and put her head down when faced with something she really loves. She has told us before that she wants to be a singer, I hope she grabs on to that dream and holds onto it as hard as she can, to make it her own and to show herself that if that is who she is, that is who she is going to be. She has definitely inherited her father's gloriousness. They excel in all things they set their minds and hearts to.

Now I am off to bed, I have written more today than I ever have and I am empty. I need to recharge for tomorrow. There is another 1667 word goal! Goodnight : )

The smell of summer

Day Seventy-Seven, Sleepy Sunday Night

Another wet and soggy day, rain pouring down, it makes me so melancholy and blue, all I want to do is sit and sit and sit. Today all I did was drive the children places. I delivered Primo and RP to the movies, I delivered Prima to PMM's house for a hangout day and then headed back home. I made lunch and watched Donald Glover's "Wierdo" and then a documentary about Burt's Bees. A do nothing day all around.

I have noticed that the less I do, the less I want to do. The last few days have been very slow and I have been very sedentary, as each day passes I hope that the next day will bring more energy and movement. Then it comes and goes and I feel as still and motionless as the day before. If I sit and examine this, this is what I see: first it has been Thanksgiving break and everyone has been home, the house is full of people, the company I so desire when I am faced with daily housework and instead of driving me on to accomplish greater things, I sit and 'hang out', playing a video game, watching a useless television show, just watching what everyone else in the room is doing. But all in all not really doing anything of my own. I have a studio full to bursting with art supplies, jewelry making supplies, TWO sewing machines, more felted cashmere and wool than you can shake a stick at (what does that mean anyway?!?) I feel like my life is an atom with unknown potential to be unleashed when it is split open. So number one thing noticed, the more people present, the less I get done. Second is that I get stuck in a cycle of inactivity very easily. It seems that as soon as I give myself permission to sit and be still, I find an excuse to keep being still, telling myself, just like Toad in the Arnold Lobel books, tomorrow, tomorrow I will take care of that tomorrow  (is it telling I identify more with Toad, than Scarlett O'Hara?). The problem is that tomorrow comes and I am overwhelmed by the sheer volume of what I have to deal with now.

Okay, I am off, and since this is the FIRST entry I have missed since I started (I fell asleep last night before writing), I will say good day!

Mama's angel