the musings of a low paid, crud cleaning, dime a dozen human being who happens to love the view from a rooftop.
Friday, 30 September 2011
Thursday, 22 September 2011
well, I didn't rage against the dying of the light...but garden tomatoes are pretty close
Today I yelled at my boys for throwing our garden tomatoes on the deck. The last time they did that I just looked at the mess, felt sad and ignored it - I was too sick to do anything about it.
Sad, how this sub par performance as a mother is somehow a triumph in my eyes.
You go into motherhood thinking it's going to be a certain way and then you find yourself in this bizarre Alice in Wonderland world that seems crazy and almost impossible to navigate because all too often it seems as though you never know where you are - are you falling down or up? Will you grow or shrink with your choices? And after balling last night while watching "Parenthood" I feel madder than the Mad Hatter with my pregnancy hormones turning me into the craziest woman I know. "Clean cup, clean cup, move down, move down, clean cup, clean cup, move down."
Sad, how this sub par performance as a mother is somehow a triumph in my eyes.
You go into motherhood thinking it's going to be a certain way and then you find yourself in this bizarre Alice in Wonderland world that seems crazy and almost impossible to navigate because all too often it seems as though you never know where you are - are you falling down or up? Will you grow or shrink with your choices? And after balling last night while watching "Parenthood" I feel madder than the Mad Hatter with my pregnancy hormones turning me into the craziest woman I know. "Clean cup, clean cup, move down, move down, clean cup, clean cup, move down."
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Cause there's a million ways to be...
Heard this song on the radio a while ago and it kind of stuck with me. It just made me happy to hear it for some reason.
This reminds me of a quote I put up on my wall when I was in university:
"Never be afraid to tread the path alone. Know your path and follow it wherever it may lead you. Do not feel you have to follow in someone else's footsteps."
~Eileen Caddy in "Footprints On The Path"
I think goodness is not in following someone else's lead OR in blazing your own trail but in knowing when in your life it's appropriate to do either one.
Friday, 9 September 2011
I don't have feathers, no beak either and I never eat worms.
Self Pity - D.H. Lawrence
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
I, however, am not a bird. During this time in my life, I feel sorry for myself every single day. The upside is that I'm not wallowing in it as much as I wallowed the past two pregnancies. That's been good. I wish I could transform myself into some rough and tough old bird like what I imagine cave women were like. I am not a bird and I am not a cave woman and so I suffer and feel a little sorry for myself. So, this is mostly not good, however, there is a little nugget from these patches of suffering: I understand and respect the place of suffering in our human experience. I'm not saying I'm out looking for punches - I just no longer mentally fight with WHY?? What's the point of this senseless suffering?? Because I now see and appreciate how suffering can bring people closer together.
Example: today my husband took a day off work to take over at home for me so I could just rest. I'm almost crying as I write because this gesture meant so much to me. And my heart is filled with love and gratitude for him and my marriage is better for this. And all that thanks to my little patch of suffering.
But I'd leave my little patch of suffering in a second if it was offered to me - like I said, I'm no bird.
I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
I, however, am not a bird. During this time in my life, I feel sorry for myself every single day. The upside is that I'm not wallowing in it as much as I wallowed the past two pregnancies. That's been good. I wish I could transform myself into some rough and tough old bird like what I imagine cave women were like. I am not a bird and I am not a cave woman and so I suffer and feel a little sorry for myself. So, this is mostly not good, however, there is a little nugget from these patches of suffering: I understand and respect the place of suffering in our human experience. I'm not saying I'm out looking for punches - I just no longer mentally fight with WHY?? What's the point of this senseless suffering?? Because I now see and appreciate how suffering can bring people closer together.
Example: today my husband took a day off work to take over at home for me so I could just rest. I'm almost crying as I write because this gesture meant so much to me. And my heart is filled with love and gratitude for him and my marriage is better for this. And all that thanks to my little patch of suffering.
But I'd leave my little patch of suffering in a second if it was offered to me - like I said, I'm no bird.
Thursday, 1 September 2011
I HATE morning sickness.
I'm in it. In the thick of "morning" sickness. I have about six or seven weeks to go of this (if this pregnancy is like the last two). I'm trying to keep my spirits up through this miserable time. There are a few things that help. One of those things is that there is a window on the wall of my shower and out that window I can see my neighbours' apple tree. It's not a crab apple tree - I can see big lovely apples when I shower and for some reason that sight seems very hopeful and happy to me. Also, I have some lemon oil and when I smell it - for a few seconds - my head is full of freshness and optimism. Another thing that brings a waft of temporary relief is hearing my boys laugh together - and I remember why I'm doing this in the first place. I'm not very good at suffering, I know that. I know some people who are pros, it seems as though they don't even flinch in the face of pain and suffering. Me, I crawl through it on my hands and knees hanging on for dear life to apple trees, lemon oil and laughter.
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