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.

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...

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.