Monday, August 6, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
- Stroked baby mullet fuzz for one last time prior to big boy haircut.
- Drove a young mother away from her children to rid her body of the chemicals that will most likely end her life if not stopped, and surely end her mothering if not stopped.
- Pinched my inner thigh in attempts to not cry while I tell the young mother I can still see her real self that the drugs swallowed and believe in her ability to overcome them.
- Held a cell phone to my ear and said words like "squat", "lunges", "nipple stimulation" and "hula-hoop hips" while my 6 year old daughter plays along like we're playing cherades.
- Clutched a notebook that held a story authored by said-daughter about a unicorn killed for an exotic soup contest.
- Covered my gasping mouth when the page turned and revealed a picture of unicorn soup.
- Stroked an iv-ed hand and arm of a mother who is birthing a child who's smile she will never see.
- Wiped my own tears in attempts to let go of my own old traumas.
- Made fantastical spring creations in marathon weekend style to make up for distracted mothering.
- Typed away on computer that is eating away my life.
- Ran fingers thru very long 9 year old hair and reminded him to wear deodorant.
- Placed straw in nest boxes for chickens that won't lay for a long time just because I like to look at it.
- Slapped spandex-clad cheeks.
- Gave toddler an armpit attitude adjustment (it turns crabs into laughs).
- Held a million cups of coffee, my main ingredient of the week.
- Squeezed through impossibly small space between three car seats a million times to buckle-unbuckle 6 year old.
- Peeled the most eggs I ever have in my life.
- Pulled out some hair in frustration of power struggles, then realizing later some struggle was my own.
- Held impossibly huge toddler nursing at my breast.
- Outstretched fingers from long waving arms to hippy music in my living room.
- Lit 3 candles for 2 babies entering and one baby leaving this world.
- Clenched fists that pumping arms held during a ready-set-go mom/toddler race home.
- Prepared to wave goodbye with tearful eyes in wait of a trip for work & play.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Friday, March 2, 2012
Posted by Peace is every step at 5:17 PM
Friday, November 11, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
- More time seeing and less time shoo-ing. By seeing I mean really seeing my loves in life, like stop everything, look into the eyes and delight-in-them seeing.
- Less work in my head when work hours are over.
- More time fully engaged in life and less time checking out from it.
- Contentment with what is and not searching for the next step.
- Less criticism and more acceptance.
- Gratitude dripping off every experience.
- Making more time for play, art, fun.
- More love and surrendering. Less control and worry.
- Less seperation from the heart of the work I do and I love so dearly.
I think these things were more apparent when my professional life found me in the homes of families with serious hard stuff, most with generations and generations of hard stuff. I'd come home and be totally in the present, grateful for the simple ease of my family life. I could easily look at my children and see how lucky we are.
Now, being a bit more seperated from the direct work, it's been harder for me to get out of my reactive, more auto-pilot way of being. My mind is distracted, occupied. I have to really focus on being present and letting what feels so important in the moment go, so I can be with what really is important--this sweet family of mine.
It's not too late for a do-over. Every day is just that, right? I get caught up in wanting to be the bestest and get stuck. I'm determined to not have such a long list in the end...maybe just "eat more vegetables" or "exercise more"...none of this really important stuff of regrets.
It's a lifelong thing, I know. This learning. This loving. This living a good life. I intend to be open to it.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
After the loss of both our beloved Collie, Riff, and our Lab, Bill (both within 5 months of eachother), our house seemed so empty without a furry friend to follow us around. I felt a bit guilty for thinking puppy thoughts almost immediately after the loss of Bill. I soon realized that a little peice of him was leaving every day for the past few years and along with it, a little bit of me was grieving along with it. I also started to see that opening up to love a pup didn't really mean I didn't still love the Ralph.
We found ourselves (Shawn and I) searching out puppies in secret. We both stumbled upon what my friend Laura calls "puppy porn" (because its so freaking adorable, you can't stop looking at more and more pictures) website http://www.puppyfinder.com/ and fell in love with a little tri-colored collie pup just recently weaned. About the same time, I came across this You Tube video of Coleman Banks reading of "Love Dogs" by Rumi, one of my favorite poets (see below). That had to be our next pup's name.
We picked up the kids from school and told them we were going to a friend of mine's farm. Her name was Rumi. They hopped in and didn't ask a single question. This drove me insane and put Shawn on edge. He almost blew it.
When we were about 20 minutes away on our hour long drive, I ask them if they had any questions about my friend Rumi. They asked about the farm, animals on the farm, when will we be there.....I said I haven't actually met Rumi. Aidan looks puzzled, then says, "oh, so she's like a facebook person?"
I tell them that I've never talked with her either, but that I'm sure we'll all love her. Especially since she'll be living with us. Then the momentum picks up. Nevie asks, "What?!? For how long?" I tell her a long time and that she might sleep with her. Aidan prys for more specifics. I tell them she'll live with us for the next 15 to 20 years. Bingo. He gets it. "Rumi is a DOG! Are we getting a PUPPY?!?" (said in his squeeky, excited voice). Screams all around! Shawn cries. Typical.
We get to the farm in Floodwood. Puppies are everywhere. Shawn and I pretty much lose our minds and can't hold adult conversations with the owners. Her mama, Dolce, is a petite, mild mannered sweetie. Her Papa is a bounding, HUGE, friendly wild man. Her siblings are adorable. And everywhere. We are swept up by puppy cuteness right from the start. We attempt to put her in the back for the ride home. She quickly slips inbetween the dog barrier and ends up crawling all over the kids laps, admist their giggling, smiling little bodies and settles on Aidan's lap. She pukes 3 times all over him. Aidan still can't stop smiling and is more concerned with her tummy than the fact he has slimy puke all over him.
We spend the next few days soaking her up. Shawn and I are like little kids, up at 5am, not because she's whining (she's not), but because we want to play with her. We over do it and bring her everywhere. Her 8 week old little body passes out at football games, the park, and the beach. If I could nurse her I probably would.
Although my heart still hurts that my Bill is gone, it's wide open for this little furry soul. Welcome home, little Rumi. I know you'll spread just as much love as your namesake.
“Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form. The child weaned from mother’s milk now drinks wine and honey mixed. The Creator’s joy moves from unmarked box to unmarked box, from cell to cell. As rainwater, down into flower bed. As roses, up from the ground. Now it looks like a plate of fish and rice, now a cliff covered with vines, now a horse being saddled. It hides within these, till one day it cracks them open.” ~Rumi~
"Listen to the moan of a dog for its master.
That whining is the connection.
There are love dogs no one knows the names of.
Give your life to be one of them." ~Rumi~