My legs feel as if they are held in thick mud. It’s up to my ribcage. It’s dark and earthy, and it doesn’t respond to my struggle. Sometimes, if I move slowly and rhythmically, I can move just a little bit, and breathe easily for a short period of time. I never slip back, but … Continue reading I am not a lotus
I have a nonsense parent inside of me. She is militant. Messes/noises/fusses are her kryptonite. Boy, does she get pissed off easily, but she is locked onto the wrong target. When I can quiet her, there is only one thing I really want. I want my child to be happy. I do not care if … Continue reading Behave or Be Happy?
Like our skin, we wear a need for stories. Not fantastic, imagination-fueling works of art, but the kind of stories that have a job. They are what we wrap ourselves in to feel more secure – a way to put words onto something – to help life make sense. We place them on our children, … Continue reading With care
Last summer I was driving back from a trip – hot, tired, and stressed. My two year old son had been crying in the back seat for about 30 minutes when I looked down at the speedometer and noticed I was driving 62 in a 45. I was reaching back with one arm, trying to soothe him, … Continue reading Yay for Tractor Guys
Lean In. I am so happy this dialogue is taking place. That said, I have not read the book, and I’m not going to. I don’t want to. If I am going to take the brain power and time to read a book, I would like it to have nothing, AT ALL, to do with … Continue reading Leaning.
Kids are asleep. House is a mess. We’ve hardly been here this summer. Our dear, dear friend has gone home after an impromptu visit. I love when people visit. It feels more like real life to me, not the numbed out, “finances are too tight to buy a kayak” kind of life. You know, real/real … Continue reading 9 years
Emotions are messy. You could choose to look at it that way; but we are emotional beings. Last night, I drank three glasses of wine – extremely rare for me these days – and cried on Pinterest. Laughing is permissible here. Since I work in the marshes where emotions have become stuck, or else helping … Continue reading Sweet Mama