My Big Mouth

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.

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...

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....