I Spotted You Today

I spotted you today
Across the way
the Needle was perfectly displayed
It was nauseatingly gray
I imagined you on Broadway in a Café
and then I turned away

Passageway

Long ago I would have sent out a communique
But there is so much more now in my day
Colorful arrays outweigh my longful display

There is no Parlay

I wondered if you spotted me across the milky way
Courses charted, passed by with quick repartee
You once were my finance
Now we share DNA

I spotted you today.

The End of the Beginning

 Mostly we are always falling. Falling into, or out of something.

I fell headlong into full time Motherhood 5 years ago. In November of 2010 I quit my job of 15 years at MultiCare Health System to become a full time, Stay at Home Mom. My Loyal Companion was in Kindergarten, my not so little Bundle of Joy was only 21 months and My Love was ramping up his travel schedule.


The first day at home was spectacular. It was one of those crisp sunny Fall days and I packed up the stroller with sippy cups and snacks and WALKED! my Loyal Companion to school. Later that day my not so little Bundle of Joy and I counted out our spare coins and we ambled up to Starbucks together. I taught her how to spread her own cream cheese on her bagel and we showed up on time to wait for my  Loyal Companion's last bell to ring.


I knew then that the rug was about to be ripped out from under me. It was a huge U-turn in my life that I had pretty spontaneously decided to take. I had to learn new homework routines and be available to volunteer in classrooms. I started to referee tantrums and sibling squabbles, I had to somehow learn to self motivate at the grocery store and Children's museums and outings had to be researched. I had to learn all of this, and more, without a Space of my own. My office was gone. There was no PC with cute wall hangings to remind me of the good life. There were no morning breaks with co-workers. There was no afternoon commute time to gather up my bravery, while zoning out to NPR.


But at the same time, I discovered Time. Time to clean the sheets, make the dinner, clean the house, create the fun crafts, time to play at the parks, to take the walks (...write the blog) and time to enjoy the small pleasures of coffee with a two year old. These were amazing years. Yes I was bone tired, non-showered and alone half the nights with My Love traveling around the world but I knew that this window of time was so brief and I took full advantage of the time afforded.


Three years into my Stay at Home rocky yet peaceful adventure my not so little Bundle of Joy got sick. Doctor visits, hospital stays, long nights, lost time with my Loyal Companion, struggling with the sickness day in and day out as a single parent half of the time became my life. I pushed my emotions down into the depths and carried on -- for her. Having her healthy again was my only thought. And she did get healthy. Last summer was her last bought of sickness. The three of us had a lovely summer together. My Love had also decided not to travel as much and was available for fun times. I was on top of the world. I could conquer anything. It was the best summer of my life.


Without processing any of my feelings and moving forward swiftly, I went on to accept a nanny position, started to gear up my not so little Bundle of Joy for Kindergarten and bought My Loyal Companion a cell phone. Soccer practices began again and swimming lessons and karate kept us busy as well through the Fall season. My Love announced that, because of being home most of the Summer, he would have a pretty hectic travel schedule until the end of the year. But nothing phased me. I could do it all.


In November of 2014 I was offered a temporary full time work from home position with Sound Physicians and I knew it was the right time. Add it to my list. The day after Christmas My Love and not so little Bundle of Joy came home with a puppy. Everything was great, and then it was not. The rug had been pulled out from under me again but this time I never noticed. It had been pulled out from under me and I had been falling for the last two years. I wasn't prepared. I hadn't stopped/rested to contemplate my trajectory I had just kept moving forward.


I started yelling at my kids more, resenting My Love for being gone, trying to hurry up bedtime routines so that I could carve out time for my work, forgetting to make dinners, to do the laundry...I was a mess. Thankfully I caught myself mid fall and decided that I couldn't carry on this way.


My Love and I spoke about less travel, my need for more support. I started to meditate upon my yelling and but in place a few coping strategies. I gave up the nannying position, tried to lower my expectations for the puppy and muddled through work.


Three weeks ago I was offered a full time permanent position with Sound Physicians. I travelled to Tennessee for a week for job training. I took a morning break with co-workers. Back at home I set up a more permanent home office with a few knickknacks (that my children had made me) that remind me of the good life.


The 1st day of school I dropped off my kids and took a long walk with the crazy pup. There was space. There was time. I began to unravel my emotions of the past. I began to look into the future with a new perspective. The rug had been put back in place, at least for now.


If someone were to ask me what I have learned from this crazy Stay at Home Mom adventure I would have to say that I've learned to live (sometimes not very gracefully) within the falling. The rug only stays put for a little bit of time. Mostly we are always falling. Falling into, or out of something.


I am learning now that it is actually okay to allow myself to fall apart and that I shouldn't try to stop the falling.


Learning how to relax into the falling (now that's the hard one), allowing room for all the different emotions within the falling helps with the coming together again -- the healing.

"When things fall apart and we're on the verge of we know not what,

the test for each of us is to stay on the brink and not concretize...

From this point of view, the only time we ever know what's really going on is

when the rug's been pulled out and we can't find anywhere to land....

Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing.

We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem,

but the truth is that things don't really get solved.

They come together and fall apart again.

It's just like that. The healing comes from letting

there be room for all of this to happen;

room for grief, for relief, for misery for joy."

--When Things Fall Apart, by Pema Chodron.

--Thank you for accompanying me on my Stay at Home Mom journey. I wouldn't trade any of my falls for anything. The healing has begun.  

Honesty

I was unprepared for the early blooms on our Magnolia trees in March. The fresh pink petals were a welcome sign to me. An invitation to enjoy life. But the blooms withered so quickly I hardly had time to remember Spring.


My tomatoes are already ripening and I've enjoyed a few right off the vine. What used to signal the end of an Indian Summer now foreshadows my unpreparedness for Back to School. I try to remember to inhale the soiled vegetable smell before washing my hands, but most times I forget.


To be honest, I haven't been enjoying life lately. The nagging comes too quick. The PC rages to life too early. My punctuality is a death sentence. I refuse to breathe deep. I am caught in an asthmatic reaction  to life and I begin to yell.


And, to make matters worse I am not sure what the cure is. I think I hit my tipping point last Fall. Nannying a small boy, starting full time work, trying to shore up my not so little bundle of joy for kindergarten, hardly ever seeing my husband, getting a puppy and being a full time taxi driver were just a few of the issues I was dealing with.


Overwhelming anger, anxiety, loneliness and the fear that someone would find out how unhappy I was made my breathe stay shallow and the yelling began.


Yes, I yell at my kids. I have been yelling since November. I haven't stopped. Ever so often I see the parting in the clouds, I make amends, I tell myself tomorrow will be better, but it's not.


My not so little bundle of joy crafted a stick fort last summer in our backyard. I refused to take it down all winter for it was my lifeline back to a time when I was more light. But one day I took it apart, stored all the huge sticks (logs) behind our outside toy box. I forgot about Summer and fell into the doldrums of the blah-ness that happens between the summers.


The other day my little bundle of joy was building an inside fort with her friends. I was totally in to it and was helping with blankets and chairs and books...but the ceiling was too low though and I had an excellent idea. I went out to the backyard and brought in those sticks I had saved and we worked together to prop up the blanket ceilings. My not so little bundle of joy was amazed.


I was amazed too, it was one of those cloud parting type of feelings. I do have these - and the sad part is that they do happen often. I just cannot figure out how to hold on to these feelings of joy, spontaneity and love. I quickly dive down deep again into my own feelings of self doubt.


And I continue to yell. Don't think I'm an awful Mom. My kids like to argue ALOT with each other and it drives me insane. Also, neither of them feel like listening when it is time to depart the house and more often than not we are late - hurrying them out the door is a feat unto itself. Also, my kids have perfected the disrespectful eye roll and cannot stop negotiating with me about punishments. So I continue to yell.


It is an abysmal trait that I wish could be stripped from me. Being that this yelling is such a recent phenomena, I keep hoping that it will just wither away - but I don't think I am that lucky.


Honesty, in spite of my weakness, seems to be the only cure. I have a problem. I cannot remember how to slow down my crazy thoughts and these thoughts sometimes spiral out of control and then I am yelling. I feel powerless before the yelling and I feel powerless after the yelling.


I wish the Magnolia blooms would bloom all year and that my tomatoes would stay ripe on the vine long enough for me to enjoy more than a few weeks of their tastiness. I wish that stick forts with my lovely children would be enough of a reminder. These reminders to live lightly, with intentionality unfortunately do not stick around long enough and I digress into new feelings of inadequacy when one of these reminders decides rears it's pretty head.


Self doubt, powerlessness and inadequacy. A new perspective is in dire need. I've gone through my catalog of past perspectives and although true at the time, these will do me no good tonight. The gift of an unhappy ending; living within my faults. Having to clean myself of these faults, I am determined to move on, living authentically however with more loving intention.

The Twilight

Playing and engaging with neighborhood friends through the Spring twilight hours will always be my very best memory of my very best self. 

I had one of those childhoods. You know the scene. Barefoot,progressive eating parties, bikes, forts and a few thrown in neighborhood pick up games.

It was one of these pick up games that I will always cherish. My Dad had sent a few too many basket balls flying and was done for the evening but said I could stay out for a few mintues later in our driveway. My neighbor friend and I had been playing all afternoon. We shot baskets together until the sun decided to sleep. I remember ice cream at the end. Most of all though I remember feeling free. It was Epic. On most Spring evenings I can still smell my way back (if only fleeting) to this freedom.     

Laying in bed 10 years ago, this April, with a newborn glued to my chest I yearned for this childhood freedom. We had big bay view windows in our bedroom and I would gaze out into the backyard and watch the day turn in for the night. This was by far, my favorite time of day. The problem being now, however, I was stuck.

The clouds rolled in that night and the storm that ensued changed me to the core. Its a fact. Not "unfortunately" or "fortunately". It's just a fact. I forgot about the twilight, I did not feel free. As the clouds rolled in and the rain started to fall I fought back, if I was going to be stuck, I wanted to at least control my stuckness. Safety became the only way through the storm.

This safety ballooned into formula feeding, sleeping without blankets, carseats, non-bpa plastics, sterilizing,  sanitizing, vitamins, medicine, vegetables, straps in the highchair, pennies on the floor, holding hands, helmets, more hand washing, the right shoes, sleep training, rules, banisters, not too much sugar, sleepless nights listening to coughing fits - trying anything to make it stop, baths, pools, strangers and school. I began to live in a constant state of safety. I did not, could not, would not imagine my Loyal Companion being hurt in any way.

Like I said, this storm changed me. For the past 10 years I've only wanted peace for my Loyal Companion, a good night's rest, simple and fresh nutrition, good friends, and clean hands. Safety.

The twilight however begs to be let in. I can feel the pull and, ten years later, I have started to let go (baby steps) of the safety net. Drop off parties, neighborhood pick-up soccer games, playing in the street, walking to school, skateboarding, late nights, bowls of sugary cereal for snack, dirt, occasional swearing,  uncleanliness and the gift of un-altered time are slowly creeping their way into my Loyal Companion's childhood and I couldn't be happier.  

It could just be Spring and I could just be feeling nostalgic for my childhood Summers, but most of me thinks this feeling is real. I needed to keep my Loyal Companion safe. It was the only control I had over this motherhood prison feeling I mostly felt. It was the only way to gain that same twilight free feeling. But alas, I have been so stuck for so very long. Motherhood rained down hard on me and at times I didn't see anyway out. Happy hour disappeared.

Thank fully my almost 10 year old Loyal Companion is helping me un-stick myself. He yearns for this twilight hour. This childhood Summer freedom that we all remember. He begs for it - and I relent. Slowly. I relent.

This evening was crazy...Early release Wednesday, soccer birthday party, home with just enough time for him to walk with a friend to the dogpark, do homework and then attend school's cultural fair, home too late but still sunny, a fast dinner and then out again to skateboard with friends. When my Loyal Companion returned home, his not so little bundle of joy sister was fast asleep, the twilight had turned to darkness and he only had a few words, "today was Epic."

Yes, today was Epic. Not just for him, but for me too.

I am the Keeper of Dreams - GO HAWKS

We all want to quit at times.

It is too hard to hang on. The battle is too long, too tough, too unbelievable - The stakes are too high. It is easier to quit, to walk away.
 
A week ago however I decided not to quit. I held on to the unbelievable. We all did, in our small TV room. Four minutes to play and I sat transfixed unable to quit. My loyal 9 year old companion however walked out, he quit his Team.

Four minutes later in a spectacular, magical turn of events, the Seahawks came out on top and put the Division Championship game into overtime.

My Loyal Companion did finally trudge back to us and we all lost our voices cheering our hearts out.

This past week we have watched countless videos and recaps of this magical moment. The best though was the Inside NFL highlights of the game. Russell Wilson never stopped believing in his team. He cheered them on to the very end, throwing the game winning touchdown to a teammate that
had been unable to catch the last four passes.

I watch my Loyal Companion's face as he watches these videos, soaking up the flavor of Belief.

My Loyal Companion again wanted to quit tonight. Long division is so hard for a fourth grader to understand. Having to show his work and get all the numbers in the right place was just too much for him. My Love and I took turns sitting with him during dinner preparations. My Love sat with him until long after the dishes had been cleared and his not so little sister was in bed and finally, it clicked. The biggest smile crossed his face and he ran up to me and said, "Mom, I finally get it. I understand long division!"

And that is when I finally understood. We are all quiters. We all want to give up. This is hard stuff. Having a proponent by our side though, pushing us to the next level, can make all the difference.

As parents, we have to be our children's advocate. Just as Russell Wilson cheered his team on to the win, we have to stand by our children - daring them to push through. We have to be the believers. We have to be willing to throw that 5th pass. We have to keep their dreams alive.

Math has always come easy for my Loyal Companion. From an early age he was able to commute huge math equations in his head. When he was little he was fascinated with numbers. Now though in fourth grade it has grown a bit tougher. Strategies have to be written down, work has to be shown. He is learning several different ways to reach the same answer. He has grown frustrated.

As a parent it is my job to carry his dream for him when he wants to quit. I shoulder his math dream while he sits and contemplates whether it is worth the effort. I believe in his ability. I know (without a doubt) he will win this battle. I believe in him.

The Seahawks taking the Division Championship, meant more than not giving up in the face of adversity. It showed me how great the rewards can be when you truly believe in your Team - taking on the weight of the dream, carrying it for others when it grows too heavy.

As parents, we have to be the Russell Wilsons for our children. We have to be the Keepers of Dreams. We cannot quit on our children. We must believe. When we do this, we all win.