My father always used to tell me that my mouth would get me in trouble. And as a child, it often did. I believe he was of the opinion that children should not be seen nor heard. But lately, his words keep echoing in my head. It seems everything I say turns out wrong and not as I intended. Perhaps it is the sleep deprivation or my lack of patience after dealing with babies 24/7. Perhaps I am noticing myself more, from that observer viewpoint. If there are two selves within me, one being the watcher and one being the ego based doer, then how do I gain control? And who exactly is the I?
I try to have conversations with my children (teenagers) and my husband, my friends and relatives, but everything ends up sounding so immature and negative. Who am I? I decided that perhaps I should just keep my mouth closed for a while and maybe I would straighten up. So, I stopped blogging. I stopped calling people. I put myself in timeout. I don't think it's working. I sure am lonely now. Nobody calls me anymore. But why would they? I snap at them and state my opinions point blank without any empathy. But really, sometimes I get tired of the same old crap. If they want to continue to tell me their same old problems, without really doing anything about it, then how should I respond?
And then I think, aha! that's me. The people around me are only reflecting back what I'm sending out. I have been whining about being tired, not having any time to paint or write, being a full time, under-appreciated mom, etc. How am I different than anybody else? I'm not. So I should shut up already and get on with it.
Oh, yeah, and for everyone out there I have offended lately, I'm truly sorry.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Time
I'm having a bit of trouble with the whole concept of time not meaning anything. Time doesn't exist in the spiritual realm. But it sure seems that I don't have enough of it anymore. The days are just not long enough to get everything done. The babies take up almost every moment. So I suppose that when the time is right I will gain the extra few minutes I need to catch up on so many things, this blog included.
I will say that I'm trying to be more present in the now more often. And I've started reading "The Course on Miracles." Heavy indeed. I've been stumbling over the language a lot. This is a book that needs some studying, which would mean more time. I wonder if the three or so weeks we have it checked out from the library will be enough time?
And I'm trying so hard not to judge and finding that I judge a lot. Even the simple judgments like "he's mad at me" lead to troublesome thinking. That thinking thing again. More than one person has told me I think too much. Certainly true. But when I'm trying to decipher everything from a spiritual perspective, I can't help but think, can I? I wonder who that is? Is it the spirit me or the ego me? Thinking takes time too. I guess if I give that up there will be more time?
While this post seems to be written in some sort of code or abstract, in my defense, I have been reading Eckart Tolle's "The Power of Now," and watching the Wayne Dyer DVDS when I feed the baby. My mind is trying to take all of this profound wisdom in, and then I have to apply it to my life. Hard work indeed to be on top of every thought, live in the present now, meditate to connect to the source energy, stop judging, and fight my ego.
Oh, and take care of the house and the kids. No wonder I'm so tired and time seems to be slipping away...
I will say that I'm trying to be more present in the now more often. And I've started reading "The Course on Miracles." Heavy indeed. I've been stumbling over the language a lot. This is a book that needs some studying, which would mean more time. I wonder if the three or so weeks we have it checked out from the library will be enough time?
And I'm trying so hard not to judge and finding that I judge a lot. Even the simple judgments like "he's mad at me" lead to troublesome thinking. That thinking thing again. More than one person has told me I think too much. Certainly true. But when I'm trying to decipher everything from a spiritual perspective, I can't help but think, can I? I wonder who that is? Is it the spirit me or the ego me? Thinking takes time too. I guess if I give that up there will be more time?
While this post seems to be written in some sort of code or abstract, in my defense, I have been reading Eckart Tolle's "The Power of Now," and watching the Wayne Dyer DVDS when I feed the baby. My mind is trying to take all of this profound wisdom in, and then I have to apply it to my life. Hard work indeed to be on top of every thought, live in the present now, meditate to connect to the source energy, stop judging, and fight my ego.
Oh, and take care of the house and the kids. No wonder I'm so tired and time seems to be slipping away...
Friday, June 13, 2008
Cleaning out the studio
Days blend into each other and I often don't know for sure what day it is. And the date? Forget it.
I'm still reading, still working on the photo project between baby feedings. It seems the little ones are on opposite schedules now. One's awake and one's asleep, which works great for giving them individualized time, but it's lousy for getting anything around the house done. And time for extras like working on the photos or art, or blogging for that matter, is down to the minimum. I usually spend the few free seconds reading.
But here I am for a moment. Even now, after I put Babygirl down for her nap, I can hear Littleboy squirming around in his vibrating seat, getting ready to wake up and demand a bottle.
My oldest girl is thinking of moving back home. She's eighteen now and should want to leave and be on her own. Not my girl. She left at seventeen and has been with the boyfriend (not so much any more) for the last year. Now, with her two cats, she wants to come home. R and I decided she could live in the building in our back yard (the old garage/storage room/fantasized about art studio...we've always called it the studio. Five years now and the "studio" has yet to be more than a place to collect junk.). The condition is she has to live with my obnoxious screaming Amazon parrot, and she has to pay a meager rent after the first month free. No parties. No boys or men moving in and she has to get and keep a job. Unfortunately she has to come into the house to use the bathroom. And she will probably be eating with us. Laundry too. Maybe the rent will be adjustable. She agreed to these terms (Except the adjustable rent, which we won't really do) and is eager to get started. Of course it has to be cleaned out, which means the room in the basement must be finished so we have someplace to put this stuff. So there, my other possible studio space is being taken away too. Not that it was ever to be finished. I guess in either case, when my girl does finally save enough to get her own place, the "studio" building will be cleaned and ready for claiming. I hope I can act fast enough. Maybe I should leave a few artsy type things out there.
So, yesterday we began sorting and removing stuff from the studio. Exciting indeed. All the stuff I've kept to make sculptures out of, remarkable. I put a couple of my sculptures in the yard as yard art. They won't sell anyway and they bring some visual interest to the yard.
The building is about half cleaned out. At least we can get to the drywall for the basement now. Maybe tomorrow we can get back to this project. Hopefully it won't become some half finished thing that becomes forgotten in the day to day.
Ah, there's the little man now....
I'm still reading, still working on the photo project between baby feedings. It seems the little ones are on opposite schedules now. One's awake and one's asleep, which works great for giving them individualized time, but it's lousy for getting anything around the house done. And time for extras like working on the photos or art, or blogging for that matter, is down to the minimum. I usually spend the few free seconds reading.
But here I am for a moment. Even now, after I put Babygirl down for her nap, I can hear Littleboy squirming around in his vibrating seat, getting ready to wake up and demand a bottle.
My oldest girl is thinking of moving back home. She's eighteen now and should want to leave and be on her own. Not my girl. She left at seventeen and has been with the boyfriend (not so much any more) for the last year. Now, with her two cats, she wants to come home. R and I decided she could live in the building in our back yard (the old garage/storage room/fantasized about art studio...we've always called it the studio. Five years now and the "studio" has yet to be more than a place to collect junk.). The condition is she has to live with my obnoxious screaming Amazon parrot, and she has to pay a meager rent after the first month free. No parties. No boys or men moving in and she has to get and keep a job. Unfortunately she has to come into the house to use the bathroom. And she will probably be eating with us. Laundry too. Maybe the rent will be adjustable. She agreed to these terms (Except the adjustable rent, which we won't really do) and is eager to get started. Of course it has to be cleaned out, which means the room in the basement must be finished so we have someplace to put this stuff. So there, my other possible studio space is being taken away too. Not that it was ever to be finished. I guess in either case, when my girl does finally save enough to get her own place, the "studio" building will be cleaned and ready for claiming. I hope I can act fast enough. Maybe I should leave a few artsy type things out there.
So, yesterday we began sorting and removing stuff from the studio. Exciting indeed. All the stuff I've kept to make sculptures out of, remarkable. I put a couple of my sculptures in the yard as yard art. They won't sell anyway and they bring some visual interest to the yard.
The building is about half cleaned out. At least we can get to the drywall for the basement now. Maybe tomorrow we can get back to this project. Hopefully it won't become some half finished thing that becomes forgotten in the day to day.
Ah, there's the little man now....
Monday, June 2, 2008
Those old family photos
A friend of mine stopped by today with her three little children. They played with Babygirl in the back yard. It was great fun seeing them all. I wish I had more time to go and visit my friends. I've been thinking a lot about old friends lately.
My oldest girl asked for some baby pictures of herself last week and when I dug those out it, only seemed natural to update the baby books and photos. What a nightmare. In the beginning of my life as an adult, I thought I would stay on top of it and label all of my photos right away with names, dates, events, etc. and that way, many years after I die, when someone comes across a box of old pictures, they might be able to figure out the history of my family. That which I know. My part. I still have old photos of relatives I don't know, people I can't recognize. It won't be that way for my children and their children. Or so I thought. When did time get away from me? That stack of photos that was waiting to be labeled became two or three stacks, a whole shoe box full of snapshots, and I have spent my free time in the last week (I know, I should be painting) trying to remember, trying to figure out how old my girls were in many pictures, not recalling the dates. I have lost a whole year. I can't for the life of me recall 1999. Are there any photos from this time frame? How can I know? My children are changing less and less every year. Which year is which? It's out of control. But, I won't give up. I refuse to give up. I want to redo my albums in a more orderly fashion. I want to tell my story.
But what parts of my story are relevant? Does it matter what friends I had in grade school? The skater boys downtown in 1987? What about snapshots of cars I thought were cool? And the pets? How about my toys? Those were favorite subjects for many rolls of film. Should I just include family members? So, I don't know for sure. I've eliminated most of the pet pictures, nearly all of the toy portraits, most of the old boyfriends, and repetitive scenery shots of the mountains. I kept anything that gave me good memories, even tucking some extra pictures behind the ones I chose for the album. I tried to keep at least one of each important man in my life. Some I wish I had more of.
So, as I relabel the mislabeled Christmas pictures and re-travel the well-worn path down memory lane (I live in the past, and often the future too. I'm working on that whole now thing.), I'm trying to put my life in perspective. I know my children grew up too fast, and I couldn't grow up fast enough (although I grew out quite rapidly), and I find I don't hate my sister quite so much now.
What pictures do I keep? The ones that mean something and the ones that show the history of my time. The ones with the people and the places that I love.
Oh, and, I'm still searching for 1999.
My oldest girl asked for some baby pictures of herself last week and when I dug those out it, only seemed natural to update the baby books and photos. What a nightmare. In the beginning of my life as an adult, I thought I would stay on top of it and label all of my photos right away with names, dates, events, etc. and that way, many years after I die, when someone comes across a box of old pictures, they might be able to figure out the history of my family. That which I know. My part. I still have old photos of relatives I don't know, people I can't recognize. It won't be that way for my children and their children. Or so I thought. When did time get away from me? That stack of photos that was waiting to be labeled became two or three stacks, a whole shoe box full of snapshots, and I have spent my free time in the last week (I know, I should be painting) trying to remember, trying to figure out how old my girls were in many pictures, not recalling the dates. I have lost a whole year. I can't for the life of me recall 1999. Are there any photos from this time frame? How can I know? My children are changing less and less every year. Which year is which? It's out of control. But, I won't give up. I refuse to give up. I want to redo my albums in a more orderly fashion. I want to tell my story.
But what parts of my story are relevant? Does it matter what friends I had in grade school? The skater boys downtown in 1987? What about snapshots of cars I thought were cool? And the pets? How about my toys? Those were favorite subjects for many rolls of film. Should I just include family members? So, I don't know for sure. I've eliminated most of the pet pictures, nearly all of the toy portraits, most of the old boyfriends, and repetitive scenery shots of the mountains. I kept anything that gave me good memories, even tucking some extra pictures behind the ones I chose for the album. I tried to keep at least one of each important man in my life. Some I wish I had more of.
So, as I relabel the mislabeled Christmas pictures and re-travel the well-worn path down memory lane (I live in the past, and often the future too. I'm working on that whole now thing.), I'm trying to put my life in perspective. I know my children grew up too fast, and I couldn't grow up fast enough (although I grew out quite rapidly), and I find I don't hate my sister quite so much now.
What pictures do I keep? The ones that mean something and the ones that show the history of my time. The ones with the people and the places that I love.
Oh, and, I'm still searching for 1999.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
For my daughters, with love 5-29-08
They don't get it.
They are far too young.
They need age and experience
Behind them
To understand.
Unfortunately
They must get burned,
Cry a thousand tears,
Wallow in a dark cave of utter despair,
And pull themselves together
Piece by piece,
Never suspecting
The end product
Would be a stranger.
The final goal
To find themselves,
Looking for lost youth
In between motherhood
And old age.
And if the universe smiles,
They might find more
In the spaces and stillness,
In the pause from adventure
When they take the time
To just breath.
-K
They are far too young.
They need age and experience
Behind them
To understand.
Unfortunately
They must get burned,
Cry a thousand tears,
Wallow in a dark cave of utter despair,
And pull themselves together
Piece by piece,
Never suspecting
The end product
Would be a stranger.
The final goal
To find themselves,
Looking for lost youth
In between motherhood
And old age.
And if the universe smiles,
They might find more
In the spaces and stillness,
In the pause from adventure
When they take the time
To just breath.
-K
Thursday, May 22, 2008
A moment
Still reading..."Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. Wonderful. I may be getting it, finally. I tried meditating while holding Babyboy, who was asleep. I felt a connection to something. It felt like there was an energy running through me. And I realized this "thing," be it God, or connection to our own spirit, our soul, it will be different for everyone. The awakening will fit each person. I can never expect R to see things in the same light that I do. It is impossible. I cannot force his awakening, although I can nudge him by suggesting books on that path.
I have been contemplative lately, wanting to write, but not sure what. I have been writing in my journal, remember that good old paper thing--so old fashioned. I love the feel of the pen, the look of the ink, how the white space fills up with my thoughts. Is writing like talking to spirit? Talking to self. I have used it as a form of communication with my self. Who is the reader, the writer?
I think art is a form of communication also. I certainly feel connected to something when I paint.
And we got the dining table set up. R and teenage girl worked on that together. Something about earning money for a haircut. It looks nice in our old house. I'm glad we kept it.
The birthday bbq was a success. Only family. Awkward with my mother and sister, but not too bad. Everyone got along and seemed to be content, if not happy.
We didn't get approved for a loan. No new house. Not yet. Maybe next year. But we have been working on the landscaping of or old Victorian. R has gone crazy on plants, spending a small fortune. We have been putting in a lot of xeric plants that should do well in our climate. That is the plan. The yard is looking nice. Babygirl follows me around with her shoes until I help her put them on so she can run around outside. I enjoy wandering around the yard just looking at the plants. We bought a patio table, but the squirrels are eating the cushions on the furniture. Or, they are shredding the pillows, pulling out the stuffing and running off with it to build posh squirrel nests. I'm developing a strong dislike towards the cute little woodland creatures.
Oh, times up...here's the little one now with her shoes and jacket.
I have been contemplative lately, wanting to write, but not sure what. I have been writing in my journal, remember that good old paper thing--so old fashioned. I love the feel of the pen, the look of the ink, how the white space fills up with my thoughts. Is writing like talking to spirit? Talking to self. I have used it as a form of communication with my self. Who is the reader, the writer?
I think art is a form of communication also. I certainly feel connected to something when I paint.
And we got the dining table set up. R and teenage girl worked on that together. Something about earning money for a haircut. It looks nice in our old house. I'm glad we kept it.
The birthday bbq was a success. Only family. Awkward with my mother and sister, but not too bad. Everyone got along and seemed to be content, if not happy.
We didn't get approved for a loan. No new house. Not yet. Maybe next year. But we have been working on the landscaping of or old Victorian. R has gone crazy on plants, spending a small fortune. We have been putting in a lot of xeric plants that should do well in our climate. That is the plan. The yard is looking nice. Babygirl follows me around with her shoes until I help her put them on so she can run around outside. I enjoy wandering around the yard just looking at the plants. We bought a patio table, but the squirrels are eating the cushions on the furniture. Or, they are shredding the pillows, pulling out the stuffing and running off with it to build posh squirrel nests. I'm developing a strong dislike towards the cute little woodland creatures.
Oh, times up...here's the little one now with her shoes and jacket.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Dining room table
So we got our "stimulus payment" and we have been spending like good little Americans. It's almost all gone now. We bought some much needed food, and some diapers for the babies and I think we put gas in the cars. Okay, we did get a larger dining table and chairs, which will allow the entire family to sit and eat, not just four of us. But of course, R is feeling guilty about that "impulse purchase" as he calls it and talking about returning it so we can save the money. Hmmm. I'd really like a new table. I'm tired of looking at the hand-me-down table (circa early eighties) that I inherited from an old friend and have been dragging around with me for almost twenty years. Wouldn't it be nice to join this era and have something that was almost, dare I say it, stylish? It won't go with our vintage leather couches from Goodwill, but if eclectic is in, at least we can add something modern. We'll see...
And the newly turned fifteen year old has Saturday school this weekend. I'm so proud. It's like "the Breakfast Club" in real life. A reminder of my youth. Now, if only she can get those two D's and F up to something passable. She is holding on strongly to a C-. What more could a mother want?
When the babies cry, they cry in unison. Why is that? And I get the difficult task of deciding who to comfort first. Now I've tried to hold both, but when Babygirl is screaming, there is no holding the little boy. She demands all of my attention. It is hard.
Babyboy has been spitting up like crazy, but with the medicine and the rice formula, he managed to gain some weight, which is wonderful. We are trying another medicine. The pediatrician thinks it's reflux. I know he has a hard time with the eating. He still spits up my breast milk. It's too thin I guess. Can't add rice cereal to that, unless I pump. Don't have a pump, so there it is then. Hopefully the new medicine will work better and I can continue to feed him both breast milk and formula.
The other teenager is turning eighteen this week. We made it and can have that collective sigh of relief now. Or I can let out that breath I have been holding for the last four years. She may or may not finish high school, but I guess that is her issue now. I hoped her life would go a little smoother than mine, but she wants, insists on making her own mistakes or, I'm sorry, choices. At least I won't be liable for those choices. We are going to attempt another bbq/party this weekend. I wonder how this one will turn out. The last one for the other girl was less than perfect (big fight, lots of attitude, almost called it off, uncomfortable silence with her friends) and I really wanted to get in the car and go for a long drive. Older girl maybe wants to invite the boyfriend, which I am still having issues with.
And we are moving furniture around, trying to make space for the dining table that we may or may not keep. My house looks like we just moved in. I've been trying to get rid of things, reminders of the past and a life I don't have anymore. I wonder if I should toss my cds? Music, like art used to mean so much to me. And now...I never listen to anything but the crying babies and the words of hatred that flow from my daughter's mouth.
Life sure doesn't look like I thought it would. Can I go back and do it again?
And the newly turned fifteen year old has Saturday school this weekend. I'm so proud. It's like "the Breakfast Club" in real life. A reminder of my youth. Now, if only she can get those two D's and F up to something passable. She is holding on strongly to a C-. What more could a mother want?
When the babies cry, they cry in unison. Why is that? And I get the difficult task of deciding who to comfort first. Now I've tried to hold both, but when Babygirl is screaming, there is no holding the little boy. She demands all of my attention. It is hard.
Babyboy has been spitting up like crazy, but with the medicine and the rice formula, he managed to gain some weight, which is wonderful. We are trying another medicine. The pediatrician thinks it's reflux. I know he has a hard time with the eating. He still spits up my breast milk. It's too thin I guess. Can't add rice cereal to that, unless I pump. Don't have a pump, so there it is then. Hopefully the new medicine will work better and I can continue to feed him both breast milk and formula.
The other teenager is turning eighteen this week. We made it and can have that collective sigh of relief now. Or I can let out that breath I have been holding for the last four years. She may or may not finish high school, but I guess that is her issue now. I hoped her life would go a little smoother than mine, but she wants, insists on making her own mistakes or, I'm sorry, choices. At least I won't be liable for those choices. We are going to attempt another bbq/party this weekend. I wonder how this one will turn out. The last one for the other girl was less than perfect (big fight, lots of attitude, almost called it off, uncomfortable silence with her friends) and I really wanted to get in the car and go for a long drive. Older girl maybe wants to invite the boyfriend, which I am still having issues with.
And we are moving furniture around, trying to make space for the dining table that we may or may not keep. My house looks like we just moved in. I've been trying to get rid of things, reminders of the past and a life I don't have anymore. I wonder if I should toss my cds? Music, like art used to mean so much to me. And now...I never listen to anything but the crying babies and the words of hatred that flow from my daughter's mouth.
Life sure doesn't look like I thought it would. Can I go back and do it again?
Friday, May 9, 2008
Timeless moments
Time has a way of getting away from you, doesn't it? Before I know it, another week has passed. Well, I only know it has because R has another day off. Every day is pretty much the same. I try to keep the little ones fed, clean and content, and hope the crying is at a minimum. I look forward to bedtime, and at the same time I don't, wondering how many times I will have to get up in the night.
And my days go on and on.
Interesting that I am reading this book, A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle (yes, one of Oprah's recommended books), and I am at this place where the subject is time. Time as we know is not real. There is only now. Of course all of the enlightened know this and say this in all of their writings. I have yet to grasp it. No past. At least no experience of the past. Only thoughts. Or memories. Our interpreted reality. How much of it is real? No future. There will never be a tomorrow. Not that we can know. There is only now, this one moment in time.
As I put the babies through the diaper change assembly line, I wonder about my moments. Didn't I just have this moment? How many poopy diapers do I change in a day? A week? Is it time to feed the little man again? Oh good, a second to sit down and practice that good old moment of meditation. Today I meditated on Dr. Phil. Nothing enlightening in that. A wasted moment perhaps. Oh well, maybe tomorrow...oops, there will be no more tomorrows...I can never get there.
There is only today. Only this moment to relish my beautiful little babies and hold them close. Before I know it this moment will have slipped away too, and they will be teenagers who hate me.
I know what I'm supposed to do. Live each day like it's the last. Be conscious. Let go of the past and let the future unfold as it will. Give up and give in to the dance that is this life.Wring every bit of living out of each moment, take it all in. Savor it all, the feelings, the colors of the earth, the interactions with others, the sounds, the smells...the moments.
Yeah, I'll give that a try.
And my days go on and on.
Interesting that I am reading this book, A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle (yes, one of Oprah's recommended books), and I am at this place where the subject is time. Time as we know is not real. There is only now. Of course all of the enlightened know this and say this in all of their writings. I have yet to grasp it. No past. At least no experience of the past. Only thoughts. Or memories. Our interpreted reality. How much of it is real? No future. There will never be a tomorrow. Not that we can know. There is only now, this one moment in time.
As I put the babies through the diaper change assembly line, I wonder about my moments. Didn't I just have this moment? How many poopy diapers do I change in a day? A week? Is it time to feed the little man again? Oh good, a second to sit down and practice that good old moment of meditation. Today I meditated on Dr. Phil. Nothing enlightening in that. A wasted moment perhaps. Oh well, maybe tomorrow...oops, there will be no more tomorrows...I can never get there.
There is only today. Only this moment to relish my beautiful little babies and hold them close. Before I know it this moment will have slipped away too, and they will be teenagers who hate me.
I know what I'm supposed to do. Live each day like it's the last. Be conscious. Let go of the past and let the future unfold as it will. Give up and give in to the dance that is this life.Wring every bit of living out of each moment, take it all in. Savor it all, the feelings, the colors of the earth, the interactions with others, the sounds, the smells...the moments.
Yeah, I'll give that a try.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
To move or not to move?
How ironic life can be. I had all but given up hope on finding a new house. We can't seem to get financing because of our bankruptcy last year. One mortgage company said to try again in May. Now we haven't actually tried again, but the loan officer called today to see if we were still interested. Just when I had resolved myself to living in this old house and climbing these old stairs (it's not nearly as painful now that I'm not pregnant), something comes along to give me renewed hope. Or does it? Spring is here. We have been planting flowers, like we do every year, but this year our work seems to be paying off. All of the previously planted bulbs and shrubs and such are growing and blooming. Our front yard looks wonderful. R put in a new front path with pave stones that really bring it all together. We bought patio furniture for the back deck and a play gym for the babies. Plus that really big and doesn't fit anywhere trampoline for the teenagers. I thought this had to be home for a while. And R was talking about finding land to build an Earthship in about three years.
So what is the Universe saying?
I guess we can try to get financing for a new house. All they can do is say no. And we should try to refinance the house we are in if we have to stay here. It might be good to see if either of those things could happen.
And, with teenage girl's horrendous attitude, maybe a move is in order. Maybe that would give her a new start and the opportunity to meet people who might be less influential on her. Right.
And the chaos continues in my house of babies...
So what is the Universe saying?
I guess we can try to get financing for a new house. All they can do is say no. And we should try to refinance the house we are in if we have to stay here. It might be good to see if either of those things could happen.
And, with teenage girl's horrendous attitude, maybe a move is in order. Maybe that would give her a new start and the opportunity to meet people who might be less influential on her. Right.
And the chaos continues in my house of babies...
Friday, April 25, 2008
Babies and teenagers, crying for attention
Still trying to find time to write. Still trying to figure out how to balance taking care of two babies. R has been a big help with Babygirl, keeping her entertained for most of the day. He did take two weeks off from work, which was an enormous help, but now he has returned to his evening shifts and I am left with two tiny tots and one disgruntled teenager who regularly reminds me how much she hates me and how I ruined her life. This weekend we are planning a birthday BBQ for said teenager at our house. We bought her a trampoline because she decided our house wasn't cool enough to have her friends over. Now it might be okay. If I could just keep my other "twelve" children out of her way. How two babies came to equal twelve, I'm not sure, although sometimes it feels like I have twelve crying infants at hand. I'm still trying to figure out just how many teenagers will be attending this shindig. My sweet young lady merely shrugs her shoulders when asked and mumbles "It's not like I matter." I'd say she matters a great deal. I'd like to think she knows that, but I guess I have to settle with the little sweet nothings like "I hate you."
And Babyboy is crying again. Didn't I just feed him? Since I haven't yet mastered the fine art of breastfeeding and typing one-handed, I'd better get to it.
And Babyboy is crying again. Didn't I just feed him? Since I haven't yet mastered the fine art of breastfeeding and typing one-handed, I'd better get to it.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Long time gone
It certainly has been a while...
In the interim, I finished a long and difficult pregnancy and had a beautiful baby boy at 9 lbs. and 6 oz. The labor was intense and traumatic, but everything worked out and both baby and I are recovering well.
I'm trying to establish some sort of routine in this house of chaos, this house of babies and unhappy teenagers.
Baby Girl is adjusting to Baby Boy quite nicely. She gives him kisses, but will try to poke him in the eye whenever she can. She isn't showing much jealousy. I try to hold her just as much and the result is two babies on my lap.
Haven't had too many visitors yet. Isn't it funny how people ask if I still paint. What do they think? Really. I paint in my dreams and fantasies. I paint a happy, normal life where relationships are based on mutual respect, and babies sleep through the night, and my teenagers don't hate me.
In the interim, I finished a long and difficult pregnancy and had a beautiful baby boy at 9 lbs. and 6 oz. The labor was intense and traumatic, but everything worked out and both baby and I are recovering well.
I'm trying to establish some sort of routine in this house of chaos, this house of babies and unhappy teenagers.
Baby Girl is adjusting to Baby Boy quite nicely. She gives him kisses, but will try to poke him in the eye whenever she can. She isn't showing much jealousy. I try to hold her just as much and the result is two babies on my lap.
Haven't had too many visitors yet. Isn't it funny how people ask if I still paint. What do they think? Really. I paint in my dreams and fantasies. I paint a happy, normal life where relationships are based on mutual respect, and babies sleep through the night, and my teenagers don't hate me.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
On meditation
What is it about all of these spiritual books that outline specifically how to do something...meditate for so many minutes in the morning, preferably when you are alone and the house is quiet...get up early if you have to. Okay. I'm not getting up any earlier. Sometimes Babygirl wakes up at 4am. I think I need all of the sleep I can get. And really, when am I alone? And a quiet house? Perhaps meditation is for singles or retired folks. So I've decided that any meditation I can get in is good, even if that is right before I'm falling asleep in bed at night. My meditation sessions usually involve slipping into a semi-comatose state where weird dream images flit through my head, before I drift into sleep anyway. Clear my head? I'm still working on that one. I try so hard to keep my mind on one image, pulling it back from fantasy land, but in the end the dreams win and I can't recall a productive meditation session at all. And when the new baby comes? Can I meditate while I'm breastfeeding? I'll have to try that. What about in the shower? Does the world really have to stop around me? What if it won't? I don't ever have time alone when I can just sit in a quiet, peaceful state. So how am I supposed to make this work? Manifest my desires...only if I follow the guidelines outlined by the experts? Maybe. Maybe not. Meditation is about getting in touch with spirit, with my God-self. I should be able to do that while being a mom. After all, what is more natural and holy than breastfeeding a perfect newborn infant?
And the vision board seems to be working. Put an image of a house up and Babygirl sleeping in her crib. Two out of three nights she has slept until at least 5am before she wants to join me in bed. Not too bad. I changed the original house image. We drove around looking at some of the houses we found online. My favorite turned out to be in a less than desirable location, and one I sort of liked is actually in a great neighborhood. So I swapped them around. We'll see what happens next. Kind of exciting.
And the vision board seems to be working. Put an image of a house up and Babygirl sleeping in her crib. Two out of three nights she has slept until at least 5am before she wants to join me in bed. Not too bad. I changed the original house image. We drove around looking at some of the houses we found online. My favorite turned out to be in a less than desirable location, and one I sort of liked is actually in a great neighborhood. So I swapped them around. We'll see what happens next. Kind of exciting.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Birthdays and the Vision Board
Had a wonderful birthday on Tuesday. My mother and sister brought me b-day cards with money in them. The best gift. So we spent the day shopping. Bought a baby corral for Babygirl, and a booster seat so she can sit at the table and eat with us, freeing the highchair for new baby. We also got her a rocking horse, which is just plain adorable. We finished the day eating dinner (the whole family!) at a great little Mexican restaurant downtown (my favorite). Everyone got along. Everyone was happy. Even the teenagers. Wonderful day!
So, I'm hoping the baby corral will help out with my space problem. If I have babygirl contained, maybe I can really break out the paints and paint at the dining room table. I'm hopeful. She's not too happy about being trapped behind her little fence, but if I stay close, it might be manageable.
Also, put the first image on the vision board: one of the houses we like in a suburb way south of town. It's a newer ranch with 3 bds and 2 baths on the main level, along with a living room, dining room, kitchen and laundry, and two car garage. No stairs!!! But, it also has a full unfinished basement which we can turn into more bedrooms, a family room and a studio. The space is there, at least, and I can set up a studio in a corner somewhere. Who needs walls? And R can have the garage for his workshop and large assortment of mostly unused tools. Yey. It has a huge yard, which is not landscaped, and sits on a corner lot. I can't really see any houses around it, but we plan on driving out there this weekend to really check it out. I'm thinking it will be perfect. More space, one level. Everything will come together. I'm thinking of renting the old Victorian, which in this horrible sellers market, might be the best choice. Then we can keep our town house as an investment, hoping the value will go up instead of down.
Everything is good today. Babygirl even slept all through the night without wanting to share my bed. I'm thinking I should take a photo and put that image on the vision board: Babygirl sleeping in her own bed all night long.
Still reading Wayne Dyer books. A new thought...I always thought when I fell off "the path" it was about living spiritually, thinking in more profound ways, and following my calling. I have spent a lot of time trying to get back to art and more enlightened ways of thinking and living, trying to relocate my spiritual "path." But, Wayne Dyer suggests that "the path" is one of unconditional love towards all people and all things. At least that's my take on it. That's it. If I can practice this unconditional love everything will start to come together. Harder than it sounds, but certainly worth the effort.
And the Universe put it to the test, right away when my oldest girl's school called to tell me she hasn't been there for a couple of weeks. Interesting, and I won't get into the details of that conversation, but I tried to constantly remind myself to let go of the anger and disappointment and hold onto the unconditional love. I'm still telling myself that. We'll see.
So, I'm hoping the baby corral will help out with my space problem. If I have babygirl contained, maybe I can really break out the paints and paint at the dining room table. I'm hopeful. She's not too happy about being trapped behind her little fence, but if I stay close, it might be manageable.
Also, put the first image on the vision board: one of the houses we like in a suburb way south of town. It's a newer ranch with 3 bds and 2 baths on the main level, along with a living room, dining room, kitchen and laundry, and two car garage. No stairs!!! But, it also has a full unfinished basement which we can turn into more bedrooms, a family room and a studio. The space is there, at least, and I can set up a studio in a corner somewhere. Who needs walls? And R can have the garage for his workshop and large assortment of mostly unused tools. Yey. It has a huge yard, which is not landscaped, and sits on a corner lot. I can't really see any houses around it, but we plan on driving out there this weekend to really check it out. I'm thinking it will be perfect. More space, one level. Everything will come together. I'm thinking of renting the old Victorian, which in this horrible sellers market, might be the best choice. Then we can keep our town house as an investment, hoping the value will go up instead of down.
Everything is good today. Babygirl even slept all through the night without wanting to share my bed. I'm thinking I should take a photo and put that image on the vision board: Babygirl sleeping in her own bed all night long.
Still reading Wayne Dyer books. A new thought...I always thought when I fell off "the path" it was about living spiritually, thinking in more profound ways, and following my calling. I have spent a lot of time trying to get back to art and more enlightened ways of thinking and living, trying to relocate my spiritual "path." But, Wayne Dyer suggests that "the path" is one of unconditional love towards all people and all things. At least that's my take on it. That's it. If I can practice this unconditional love everything will start to come together. Harder than it sounds, but certainly worth the effort.
And the Universe put it to the test, right away when my oldest girl's school called to tell me she hasn't been there for a couple of weeks. Interesting, and I won't get into the details of that conversation, but I tried to constantly remind myself to let go of the anger and disappointment and hold onto the unconditional love. I'm still telling myself that. We'll see.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Dreaming of art, thinking of children's books
I dreamed of art last night...that I was creating it and showing it. And I woke up almost inspired.
I'm thinking of children's picture books again. I love good stories. I love children's books with the over-sized pages and artwork. I have two finished manuscripts, but no artwork to go with them. I have submitted them to a few publishers, but only received form rejection letters. I should try to find an agent, I think. Submissions are so time consuming and the postage is hard to come by sometimes.
So maybe I should try to create some art for my books. Or come up with some new ideas for manuscripts. The stories are so much fun to write and my imagination runs wild when I'm engaged. That might be just what I need to connect with my muse again. Dance the dance.
I'm thinking of children's picture books again. I love good stories. I love children's books with the over-sized pages and artwork. I have two finished manuscripts, but no artwork to go with them. I have submitted them to a few publishers, but only received form rejection letters. I should try to find an agent, I think. Submissions are so time consuming and the postage is hard to come by sometimes.
So maybe I should try to create some art for my books. Or come up with some new ideas for manuscripts. The stories are so much fun to write and my imagination runs wild when I'm engaged. That might be just what I need to connect with my muse again. Dance the dance.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Long days
Haven't been motivated to do much of anything lately. I have been dreaming of bigger houses and searching the net for possibilities. Still a dream.
Went to the doctor today. Go back in two weeks for a checkup and another ultrasound. They are still concerned about the size of the baby. I know he seems to have gotten larger in the last week or so. I'm feeling it. I think he's camped out on some major organs now. And I sure am tired.
Baby girl is not taking consistent naps, and when she goes to bed at night, I want to go to bed too. I am trying to train her to nap in her pack and play, hoping I can gain some free time.
No new work on the basement, unfortunately. I think about working on the kitchen table, pretending I could have a makeshift art table, a place to create, but then I wonder what I will create? Used to be I'd just begin and the subject would come. Have I lost total contact with my muse, afraid to begin anything because of interruptions? I think I better get used to interruptions if I ever plan on working on my art again.
Did get that vision board up on the wall, and so far it remains blank. What do I want? What does a completed studio look like? I need to pull it together...
Went to the doctor today. Go back in two weeks for a checkup and another ultrasound. They are still concerned about the size of the baby. I know he seems to have gotten larger in the last week or so. I'm feeling it. I think he's camped out on some major organs now. And I sure am tired.
Baby girl is not taking consistent naps, and when she goes to bed at night, I want to go to bed too. I am trying to train her to nap in her pack and play, hoping I can gain some free time.
No new work on the basement, unfortunately. I think about working on the kitchen table, pretending I could have a makeshift art table, a place to create, but then I wonder what I will create? Used to be I'd just begin and the subject would come. Have I lost total contact with my muse, afraid to begin anything because of interruptions? I think I better get used to interruptions if I ever plan on working on my art again.
Did get that vision board up on the wall, and so far it remains blank. What do I want? What does a completed studio look like? I need to pull it together...
Monday, February 11, 2008
Adventures and dreams
Had a most wonderful adventure Saturday. Took the happy bus and the family to visit my Aunt in a little town about 45minutes away. She bought this property a few months back that has a cute little cottage and an enormous greenhouse. The yard has many grape arbors and a pond with a fountain. But the greenhouse is the most interesting part of the property. It has a kitchen and a bathroom, so of course she is staying there with her two little dogs. Her son is living in the cottage. The plants are thriving. So far she has an abundance of houseplants, but plans on starting vegies and flowers soon. It was great. The atmosphere was fabulous...warm, natural, cozy. It reminded me a great deal of the Earthships in Taos and the few others I have visited.
I have wanted to build an Earthship for many years because of the atmosphere, but also because they are self-sufficient houses, off the grid, with water collection systems, solar, and a greenhouse across the front of the house. It is a dream. Lately we are considering a manufactured home on some acreage. I'm afraid, like most of the projects here at home, R would never be dedicated enough to work on an Earthship. A manufactured home is finished when it arrives, or mostly. The best part is that it would be one level (I'm so tired of the narrow steep stairs to the second floor of our old Victorian) and cheaper than our current house.
Another option we have been tossing around is moving to another city a little south of where we are. The cost of living is lower and there is a development just outside of town that still has empty lots, which would work for a manufactured home. There are also finished homes that are selling for significantly less than anything in our town. If we could sell our house in the current market, that might work. We could get a bigger, newer, ranch style house for much less, which would help our finances considerably.
We need a bigger house now. I'm still trying to figure out where to put all of the children with the new baby coming. And forget about studio space in this house. Although, ironically I suggested hiring someone to finish the basement room and R spent a whole day working on it. It's getting closer to being done, little by little. I've been waiting two years. It was supposed to be done before the baby came...the first baby girl. Maybe for the second baby.
I dream of studios and Earthships and not having neighbors so close. I dream of greenhouses (but not to live in) and rose gardens and room to roam. Maybe there are more adventures to be had. At least there are some new dreams now.
I have wanted to build an Earthship for many years because of the atmosphere, but also because they are self-sufficient houses, off the grid, with water collection systems, solar, and a greenhouse across the front of the house. It is a dream. Lately we are considering a manufactured home on some acreage. I'm afraid, like most of the projects here at home, R would never be dedicated enough to work on an Earthship. A manufactured home is finished when it arrives, or mostly. The best part is that it would be one level (I'm so tired of the narrow steep stairs to the second floor of our old Victorian) and cheaper than our current house.
Another option we have been tossing around is moving to another city a little south of where we are. The cost of living is lower and there is a development just outside of town that still has empty lots, which would work for a manufactured home. There are also finished homes that are selling for significantly less than anything in our town. If we could sell our house in the current market, that might work. We could get a bigger, newer, ranch style house for much less, which would help our finances considerably.
We need a bigger house now. I'm still trying to figure out where to put all of the children with the new baby coming. And forget about studio space in this house. Although, ironically I suggested hiring someone to finish the basement room and R spent a whole day working on it. It's getting closer to being done, little by little. I've been waiting two years. It was supposed to be done before the baby came...the first baby girl. Maybe for the second baby.
I dream of studios and Earthships and not having neighbors so close. I dream of greenhouses (but not to live in) and rose gardens and room to roam. Maybe there are more adventures to be had. At least there are some new dreams now.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Still learning
I spend my days hungry for more spiritual information. I can't seem to get enough. I want to reconnect with my inner self and get my life on track. Today on Oprah the subject was just that...spirituality...the law of attraction, and several authors of inspiring books. There were several women in the audience who had used some of the methods described to get what they wanted and to turn the direction of their lives around. Fantastic. That's what I'm looking for in my life.
I know that I should meditate regularly. I used to, before the current relationship, and perhaps that was why my life had a more spiritual tone. I tried to meditate today while my baby girl napped. It was good, relaxing, but I can't ever seem to turn off my thoughts or the pictures in my head. And today, the baby boy was bouncing around inside of my belly like a football player. Kind of hard to clear the mind.
I have hope. I'm thinking of trying a vision board, in which you put up images or ideas about the things you want in your life. I guess the focus becomes more directed and somehow through that connection to spirit, to your inner self, and to the Universe, you can manifest these things into your life. But there are obstacles, such as the unfinished business like forgiving those who have hurt you, or trusting in the power of yourself and your connection to everything. It was mentioned on Oprah and in the Dr. Wayne Dyer book I am currently reading Manifesting Your Destiny that the people you have the biggest conflicts with in your life are also your biggest teachers. That stopped me in my tracks. Rather than try to run from the negative relationships like I usually do, I have to stop and reconsider. What do I need to learn here? Why do I keep going round and round and ending up back in the same place?
If I could remove those obstacles then perhaps I would be that much closer to finding my own peace and being able to create a meaningful life. Ironically I have been having dreams of obstacle courses for the past few months. I guess my spirit is speaking to me. Cool. Welcome back.
I know that I should meditate regularly. I used to, before the current relationship, and perhaps that was why my life had a more spiritual tone. I tried to meditate today while my baby girl napped. It was good, relaxing, but I can't ever seem to turn off my thoughts or the pictures in my head. And today, the baby boy was bouncing around inside of my belly like a football player. Kind of hard to clear the mind.
I have hope. I'm thinking of trying a vision board, in which you put up images or ideas about the things you want in your life. I guess the focus becomes more directed and somehow through that connection to spirit, to your inner self, and to the Universe, you can manifest these things into your life. But there are obstacles, such as the unfinished business like forgiving those who have hurt you, or trusting in the power of yourself and your connection to everything. It was mentioned on Oprah and in the Dr. Wayne Dyer book I am currently reading Manifesting Your Destiny that the people you have the biggest conflicts with in your life are also your biggest teachers. That stopped me in my tracks. Rather than try to run from the negative relationships like I usually do, I have to stop and reconsider. What do I need to learn here? Why do I keep going round and round and ending up back in the same place?
If I could remove those obstacles then perhaps I would be that much closer to finding my own peace and being able to create a meaningful life. Ironically I have been having dreams of obstacle courses for the past few months. I guess my spirit is speaking to me. Cool. Welcome back.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Thinking back
So tired these past few days. I guess the pregnancy is catching up to me. Two and a half months to go before the little baby boy arrives.
And the little baby girl has been so cranky lately. Maybe she's getting more teeth. She certainly is adamant about what she wants to do. She's starting to throw tiny tantrums. I didn't think those came until the terrible twos. I have forgotten so much about taking care of little bitty babies. My teenagers throw much bigger tantrums and are so vocal.
So back to the spiritual thing. I can hardly help but focus on this area in my life as I continue to read books by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer. He is so inspirational, and so right on. It seems I was so much farther along back in the day, before the current relationship. I was certainly less selfish, giving myself to my friends and even coworkers when they needed. One of the greatest pleasures I had then was giving little spiritual gifts to everyone, and taking my friends on adventures out into nature where we could just listen to the trees or admire the sky. I loved being a listener and offering advice when it was asked for. I loved listening to my spirit and enjoying those remarkable moments of synchronicity that seemed to occur so frequently. I recall waiting for those things, asking of the Universe and waiting to see what new and wonderful things showed up. It was such fun.
And then it stopped. I think I made the mistake of believing I could help R find his spiritual self. I never realized he would be so resistant to new ideas. I never thought he would belittle my beliefs and make me feel ashamed for living a spiritual life. I guess I wasn't as strong as I thought I was. So it became more about trying to please him and win his approval in other areas of my life and my spirituality took a back seat. I lost my footing and fell off the path, and when I tried to find it, I couldn't, anywhere. I was lost in the woods. Lost in the land of R, and I began to resent him for it, feeling trapped in his closed-mindedness, trapped by his judgments. And even worse, I began to echo him. I became more selfish and judgmental, more materialistic and cynical. I lost my strength as a woman, as a spiritual being and became like all the rest. I was mediocre. I was boring. I was turning into a bad housewife where my major concerns were keeping the bathrooms clean and the laundry folded. But this is not me! I thought. The only time I truly connected to my spirit was when I created my art, and that was so joyful. It was all I had left of the old me.
So now, I am trying so hard to reconnect to my spirit, to find my inner voice and reclaim my power. I know that every day is a journey as I try to remember that I can have no expectations of others, of R, and I must stop the judgments and curb my anger. I can be quiet now and know that what he says matters so little in the face of my reality. Yes, I have to live here with him, and we have committed to the raising of our children, but I can get myself back. I can go within and find my strength by listening to my spirit. I can write and I can do art when there is time. There will be time again. And I can love my family for the beautiful spiritual beings that they are. Love everyone.
And the little baby girl has been so cranky lately. Maybe she's getting more teeth. She certainly is adamant about what she wants to do. She's starting to throw tiny tantrums. I didn't think those came until the terrible twos. I have forgotten so much about taking care of little bitty babies. My teenagers throw much bigger tantrums and are so vocal.
So back to the spiritual thing. I can hardly help but focus on this area in my life as I continue to read books by Dr. Wayne W. Dyer. He is so inspirational, and so right on. It seems I was so much farther along back in the day, before the current relationship. I was certainly less selfish, giving myself to my friends and even coworkers when they needed. One of the greatest pleasures I had then was giving little spiritual gifts to everyone, and taking my friends on adventures out into nature where we could just listen to the trees or admire the sky. I loved being a listener and offering advice when it was asked for. I loved listening to my spirit and enjoying those remarkable moments of synchronicity that seemed to occur so frequently. I recall waiting for those things, asking of the Universe and waiting to see what new and wonderful things showed up. It was such fun.
And then it stopped. I think I made the mistake of believing I could help R find his spiritual self. I never realized he would be so resistant to new ideas. I never thought he would belittle my beliefs and make me feel ashamed for living a spiritual life. I guess I wasn't as strong as I thought I was. So it became more about trying to please him and win his approval in other areas of my life and my spirituality took a back seat. I lost my footing and fell off the path, and when I tried to find it, I couldn't, anywhere. I was lost in the woods. Lost in the land of R, and I began to resent him for it, feeling trapped in his closed-mindedness, trapped by his judgments. And even worse, I began to echo him. I became more selfish and judgmental, more materialistic and cynical. I lost my strength as a woman, as a spiritual being and became like all the rest. I was mediocre. I was boring. I was turning into a bad housewife where my major concerns were keeping the bathrooms clean and the laundry folded. But this is not me! I thought. The only time I truly connected to my spirit was when I created my art, and that was so joyful. It was all I had left of the old me.
So now, I am trying so hard to reconnect to my spirit, to find my inner voice and reclaim my power. I know that every day is a journey as I try to remember that I can have no expectations of others, of R, and I must stop the judgments and curb my anger. I can be quiet now and know that what he says matters so little in the face of my reality. Yes, I have to live here with him, and we have committed to the raising of our children, but I can get myself back. I can go within and find my strength by listening to my spirit. I can write and I can do art when there is time. There will be time again. And I can love my family for the beautiful spiritual beings that they are. Love everyone.
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