not everyone likes me

it is 2010 and as the year turns from one to the next there are a lot of lists popping up.  favorite posts, best blogs and bloggers and all that jazz.  i have been at this for less than a year and i am not out there marketing or pushing my blog on social media outlets.  mostly i just blog to keep my own head on straight.  there is the side benefit of making a few connections and occasionally feeling like what i wrote was semi helpful to someone.

the truth is that as much as i know i am not blogging to win a popularity contest i still feel like a terrible failure sometimes because i am not popular.  i am not “on the radar.”  i am not one of those “real” bloggers with gobs of readers.  there, i admitted it.  i know, i know, i do know that gaining a certain number of readers is not the point for me.  but still, those voices inside have no trouble piping up about how lame i am.  the insecure woman lurking in the crevices of my soul feels like a failure, a loser, a terrible writer with a no good blog that is  only fodder for mockery.

there is the truth of it.

the funny thing is that i should be comfortable with my role outside the mainstream by now.  i have always been liberal enough in my views to feel pretty far left of group in the center.  discovering my talent for telepathy (with animals no less) certainly didn’t bring me closer to a mainstream life experience.  more recently my parenting choices have not fit with mainstream parenting.  all in all with my politics, woowoo, and parenting inclinations as they are i am not the woman that hordes of other women feel akin to.  or, in short, not everyone likes me.

that is ok.

it is just that every once in awhile i have to sit down with myself and have a little chat about it.  no, you are not on any lists.  you are not a top 50 this or that.  no one famous does stomach flips over blog.  you are not “waldorf” enough for the waldorf lists or “breastfeeding” focused enough for the breastfeeding lists or…

so on and so on.

i honor that the above facts hurt your feelings sometimes.  i am just here to give you a gentle reminder that i love you.  i appreciate the work you do.  i even like your writing.  some days.

truthfully, you know what i just realized?  making someone’s list wouldn’t change anything for me.  because looking to feel good about myself (my blog, my parenting, my photo’s, my writing, my spiritual growth, my anything) based on an outside source is a losing battle.  it is a never ending cycle of wanting more better higher feedback.  even if i was on a list i would still fight my own battles with doubt and insecurity.  the work is always right here within me.  seeking the place from which i can speak truthfully to my self with love and support, with appreciation and respect, with kindness and loyalty and forgiveness.

this blog has become a place i return to work though what is in my mind and my heart.  to puzzle through the words to some clarity.  something about the blog (the name, the intention, the sharing) makes me take a moment to center and get to what feels the most helpful and constructive to me.  i don’t come here to make fun of myself or my life (generally).  i seem to return again and again to remind myself that it is ok, that i know how to breathe, that i have spirit guides and teachers who love and support me, that there are things i know that are worth knowing.  i come here to find the words to bring peace and joy to my day.

less than one year blogging and i have made a space that is sacred to my path.  and my intention for 2010 is to keep blogging, to keep asking myself to take the time to write regularly.  not to gain popularity but to elucidate my path and share some space with others who can relate.  i want to push myself to accept that this kind of blogging can be scary for me.  i want to be the real me anyways – not the version i think would get more votes.

well, if you made it through this one, thanks for listening.  i am tempted to go back and edit out pieces of what just happened but i think i’ll leave it.

happy new year friends and fellow woowoo warriors.  may finding your joy and peace be a cake-walk this year.

love

woowoo mama

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unexpected.

a few days ago this guy moved into our house. he stayed on that light switch for days. days! at first i was pretty put off. i am not terribly fearful of bugs but i don’t need a big one on the light switch panel right by my front door. for some reason i challenged myself to sit with it and see what happened. the first thing i noticed was the fear reaction (you know the tightening in the throat and chest) went away. i could walk past him, or look at him, and feel calm. i still wanted him to leave and i wasn’t thrilled with the idea of getting close enough to him for long enough to move him without harming him – but i wasn’t feeling afraid of him from a foot or so away.

by this morning i was happy to see him sitting there when i came downstairs. “oh, hello light switch bug,” i sent him, “how are you this morning?” he didn’t always sit in the exact same spot but he favored the raised bit on the panel where the timer switch for the porch light is. then sometimes he strayed a few inches up the wall. he always returned to his panel though.

around 10am today the bean was afraid that this little guy was a spider and i had to talk him down. “that is not a spider sweetie. that is our light switch friend.” the bean wanted him to leave which i do understand but i encouraged him to let our bug friend stay with us and see how it felt later today. i realized that i had grown mildly fond of having him there. i sent light switch bug the intention, “hello friend. thank you for coming into my life.”

i had noticed earlier in the day that this bug was missing a leg (there really ought to be six don’t you think?) and just knowing that my little light switch bug had only five legs felt like something. something like i was getting used to him. i made a note to check in with him while chickpea napped and see if he had a message for me. and then, on a whim, i decided to snap a quick picture of him.

my light switch bug friend, who has been sitting there for at least 2.5 days. my new friend. i expected him to be there for at least another day or two. i expected that he was maybe going to teach me a thing or two. and then we came in from playing outside around 11:30 and he was gone. i looked around his usual area and couldn’t find him. and i keep looking. i keep getting up to peek at his switch area, i even looked behind the mirror hanging near there to see if he just went under cover. doesn’t matter how many times i look. he isn’t there.

a few weeks ago i spent some time cutting leaves out of tissue paper so the bean and i could do a craft like the star windows i read about in earthwise. i made one myself while he was sleeping and determined that the activity wouldn’t hold his attention well enough for it to be worth us trying at this point. but, i had already cut out so many leaves! for a few weeks they have sat in my crafting area looking brightly colored and yet forlorn. then, suddenly i came up with the idea of having him string them onto embroidery thread using his big tapestry needle. i pulled the idea out at the typical low point of our day (since the time change) yesterday around 5:30. he loved it. he sat quietly at the counter stringing the leaves (with occasional assistance but not much) for a long time – until he had strung ever leaf we had. he was very proud of his project and immediately declared it “beautiful.”

while he was working the conversation we were having naturally flowed towards the holiday/festival of thanksgiving that is coming up soon. my all time favorite holiday. i talked some about what it would be like in our home and about the idea of being thankful for all that we have. he kindly told me that he was thankful for his favorite toy truck “scrambler” and for chickpea. when he was done stringing the leaves we hung them up across some of our large bay window.

today the sun came streaming in through the window and lit up the craft in the most astonishing way. i was struck by the beauty of it and i was caught off guard by how much pleasure this little string of tissue paper leaves was giving me. i would never have imagined.

this morning at 7:40 my phone rang and the caller id showed victory’s information. i knew instantly that something was not right. she doesn’t call me at 7:40 in the morning.

something is wrong, her father is having a very sudden and serious medical emergency. a few moments before that she was no doubt having a normal sunday morning with two spirited kids and then her whole universe shifted.

and i am her friend so mine did too. i have wished a thousands times today that there was more i could do. that we lived closer. that i was a powerful healer. that i could bring her some comfort as she goes through this entirely unexpected day. i try to check in with her dad, i send my white light, i try to think healing thoughts, and my heart – most of all my heart – is with her. may that give her a little something extra.

and if you all have anything extra to give go ahead and do you thing. prayer, positive thoughts, woowoo, white light, meditation, intention. i am sure that victory and her family would accept any and all of it.

may we all find peace in the face of what we least expect.

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it hurts so good

i will let you in on a little secret. most mornings the kids are up early and flash gathers them up into their joyous little bundles of wakefulness and takes them downstairs to sleep while i stay in bed, stretch out in whatever direction i want, and sleep alone for a bit. ahhhhhhhhh. (in my defense i have historically handled about 98.7% of the nighttime parenting so this morning lie in is just the way our system works here.)

now remember not to long ago i joined the gym? well, i have found this sunday morning cardio class that i have taken to attending. the class is at 8 in the morning and i am no good without some food, coffee and water before i attend so it means i need to be up early. handily, my kids tend to wake up at that time. so, a little routine has developed in which i am the one who bundles their wakefulness down stairs on sundays and flash has the option of sleeping late(r). i have my breakfast, coffee, and water and then i submit myself up to eve so she can find ways to demolish me.

seriously, this class kicks my – um, bum(?) hardcore. the first time i went i was fairly sure i was going to die about fifteen minutes into it but i keep going back. you know what is crazy? even though my working out is way less consistent than i would like this sunday morning class is getting slightly more manageable. i still want to die at some point but it tends to be a little later on than the fifteen minute mark and a new thing has started to happen — the endorphin rush that comes from a seriously good cardio workout.

i wait patiently for it to come. i know, during the “uh oh i am dying” moment that if i keep at it the next thing will be the calm lift into “i feel good. i am strong.” well you know, if you have felt this (also sometimes called runner’s high) that it is good stuff and words are not doing it justice.

so i get up early, i go the gym, i push myself to my limit, i survive and i come home to listen to flash tease me about my red face.

the strangest thing is happening. this little routine that started out for me as some kind of self induced torture is becoming my favorite day of the week. it is not getting easy by any stretch of my imagination but darn if i haven’t come to feel my best on sundays.

hold on a second, i think even on sunday i might be having fun. sneaky sneaky universe.

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taken out at the ankles

the house we grew up in had hard wood floors through much of it and hard wood stairs covered by a runner of carpet, dark blue with a few scattered beige flowers that were simple and quiet.  the carpet was not terrible plush but i know it was thick enough to cushion a light fall, the thunk of my young body hitting the stairs as my legs escaped me.  i had my arms to catch my fall but still my belly would hit and my shins and no doubt i would screech with shame and outrage.  i almost remember the feel of the carpet on my face, but that could be from other moments as well.

it was always my brother – older, faster, and generally not too hard on me – who was stealing my legs on the stairs.  he’d come up behind me and sometimes he’d just follow me up the stairs but other times, with no warning i could figure out, he would chose to swipe out my ankles and enjoy the resulting plunking of my body onto the carpeted stairs.  dark blue wool with the dark blue cottony edging you see on runner type carpet.  somewhere between soft and itchy, somewhere between hard and cushioned, somewhere between the bottom and reaching the top i’d be downed.

whenever he walked behind me then i was a little afraid, i would speed up, or i would be overwhelmed by the anticipation of what was possible and i’d run flat out with my heart in my throat.  or, i would just go calmly and hope and then wish i had run when i felt the sensation of my stomach on the stairs.  thump, bump, bang, squish.  when i felt the indignation rise, the hot flash of it all and the spike of tears in my eyes.  sometimes, when you are almost making it up and someone just takes you out at the ankles without any warning it is enough to make you deflate.

today, i just don’t want to deflate.  i have been doing so well.  so instead of letting it all flash out of me i decided to follow my own advice.  i made some loose leaf tea and as i poured it for myself it set the intention that the tea would bring me calm, and peace, and happiness.  that is all i need to get by today.  stomach crushed on the stairs as it may be.  just the healing energy i put into my tea.

oh, and the morning picnic i had with chickpea and bean was right nice too.

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doing it alone-ish

flash is away on a long trip and thus, i am doing it alone-ish these days.  my parents live nearby and i can count on my mom for some help.  but the ins and outs of each day are mine and mine alone.  the six am wake up call is not followed by flash scooping up both kids and taking them down stairs to play while i sleep for an hour.  no one else is cleaning up the dinner dishes or taking out the trash.

whenever we do a longer stretch like this (14 days) of flash being gone i always get to wondering how single parents, or parents with spouse’s overseas in the armed service, or any other situation that means parenting alone for really long periods of time manage.  here it is, day nine and i am sagging.  i am not collapsing, but i am sagging.  a sure sign, my fridge is full to the brim of delicious, local, farm fresh veggies and i am not looking forward to cooking at all.

i would like a nap.  or three hours alone.  or, a three hour nap.  but i don’t see that happening in the near future.  instead i see a lot of laundry (i am trying to be grateful to have so much wonderful clothing/diapers/sheets to wash), cleaning up the toys a million times (and thanks for those too), cooking a dinner that the bean will shun and chickpea will throw half of on the floor (thanks you universe for the lovely fresh food), another hectic bedtime (thanks for the beds, i like beds), and another day that starts around 5:45 when chickpea begins the morning nurse and squirmathon and the bean joins us at 6:15 for a quick hug and then “go down stairs!”

i don’t mean to complain.  on the upside, i thought i would be totally crashing by now so a mere sag is pretty great.  beanie has been mostly sleeping through the night, and i did pass in my final exam for the class i took so that is over.  i guess i just need to let myself sag for a minute and then ask for a little more help.  maybe not the kind of help i can see, maybe not the kind that does the dishes, but instead maybe the kind that just gives me a little more energy.  since everything is energy i am sure there is some spare i can ask for.

the trick, i guess, is being a little less stubborn in my attempt to do every little thing myself.

um, ha ha ha ha universe.  (i just got an email from a local-ish friend offering help.)

put away stubborn wall and reply now.

see ya people’s.

woowoo to the mama.

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