Archive for November, 2011

November 26, 2011

transformative practice

 thank you for soul vibes when the city feels alone, thank you for a needed break, when i don’t want to be at home. thank you for strengthening me, thanks for peace infusion too. thank you for bringing me into my body, a needed reminder, it’s true.

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November 16, 2011

i’m not into crafts, but i can be crafty

like decorating for christmas, for instance, which i am quite gifted at, if you may. it’s true. merriment is a lifestyle, one that has nothing to do with christmas and everything to do with living juicy, and this can be practiced all year long, of course. this said, in my world, merriment goes seasonal at christmas, for sure, and warm fuzzies abound in my home, for which i am quite proud.

i am fortunate to have a small amount of self-restraint which permits me the decency to avoid bedazzling my house in tacky cartoon like crap effective november 1st (or ever, thank you very much), but that’s about all the restraint i have. in all other departments, i am a sinner.

decorating before the end of november? it’s happened. participating in voyeuristic delights, i.e. window shopping in the christmas aisle for weeks before i actually go for the gold? yah, i’ve been finding excuses to go shopping almost daily. delaying making dinner and touring my vulnerable and impressionable young child around the neighborhood looking at christmas lights instead? it’s all about priorities, and merriment is mine. peer pressuring my reasonable spouse to put up the lights, almost daily? yah, it’s pretty much on.

and this year, i have the fever bad. i foresee busting out the lights, myself, a rebellious act of insubordination against my husband’s ‘rule’ of december only festivus. who does he think he is, anyways? plus, i’ve got my moo on my side. we are feeling the spirit. it’s 2 against 1. hubby loses. but, he might also win, because i drink more wine during the holidays. a tipsy wife is a happy wife. hehehe.

enjoy the lights!

p.s.- because wine is my friend, i am feeling generous. here are some tips in avoiding tacky whilst trying to achieve palette pleasing decor. it’s nothing major, but as i have the decorating gift, here is my gift to you:

in order to achieve holiday perfection, which admittedly, i am quite interested in, one must be careful to ensure that decor is full and rich but appears pleasingly minimalist. no one likes over the top vibes and, frankly, a few anorexic lights are just depressing. perfection seems so closely related to finding graceful harmony between the traditional and stylish, with consistency in theme but not boring uniformity. you get the idea. more is more if it looks like less and tradition is classic but  twist in some mod so it’s not tired and worn. easy, huh?

have fun, and be merry.

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November 9, 2011

on the night that you were born

“Why had no one told me that my body would become a battlefield, a sacrifice, a test? Why did I not know that birth was the pinnacle where women discover the courage to become mothers? But of course, there is no way to tell this or to hear it….

I wept and I yelled. I gave up all hope and I prayed. I vomited and my knees buckled. Then I began to push because there was nothing else I could do. I pushed and I pushed and I thought I would faint…

“My son”, I answered, dumbfounded, taking him into my arms.

Just as there is no warning for childbirth, there is no preparation for the sight of a first child. I studied his face, fingers, the folds in his boneless little legs, the whorls of his ears, the tiny nipples on his chest. I held my breath as he sighed, laughed when he yawned, wondered at the grasp on my thumb. I could not get my fill of looking.

There should be a song for women to sing at this moment, or a prayer to recite. But perhaps there is none because there are no words strong enough to name that moment. Like every mother since the first mother, I was overcome and I was bereft, exalted and ravaged. I had crossed over from girlhood.”

– Anita Diament, The Red Tent.

moo, i still do not have my fill of looking. watching you grow is my greatest joy. i can’t wait to see your deliciousness when you rise tomorrow, 2 years old, already. your future, and mine for you are in it, look bright my babe. on your birthday and always, i love you.

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November 8, 2011

by the balls

to the best of my knowledge, no children have died simply as a result of attending daycare. unfortunately, i can’t say the same for mothers as we are vulnerable to dying little deaths everyday that we leave our child in the hands of another.

so, if you look after precious little ones, i beg you to consider the following list of requests, on behalf of brave working mothers everywhere.

1. be aware of the trust we invest in you and don’t abuse that gift.

2. be considerate of how vulnerable we feel and tread lightly, you got all the power here.

3. be patient with our neurosis, it’s hard to let go and not know what your child’s day looks like while you’re gone.

4. deliver challenging news gracefully, hearing about your child’s misbehaviour or listening issues from someone who doesn’t love them can feel loud and cutting, even  on non-sensitive days.

5. be generous with your tenderness, when our babe is without us, they need to feel safe still, especially when sick, or tired. give in to them sometimes, indulge their comfort needs. let them know you are their protector, as well.

6. be fair, all children in your care should have equal access to toys, space, and your attention. notice where there might be hidden biases, our babes do.

7. be cautious of invoking change without notice. we rely so heavily on you to maintain the routine that keeps our fragile system in balance and little changes can feel like big earthquakes.

8. spare us your judgement. ’nuff said.

frankly, that’s about all. sound reasonable? i thought so too. do we got a deal then? great. don’t fuck with it.

kleco, kleco, hh.

p.s.- i wish i had a point 9 and point 10. it would be cleaner and more complete that way, both of which i would prefer. but, i don’t. i just didn’t have time to think it through.

hey! remember point number 8 bitches, i don’t need yours, i got enough to go around. thanks.

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November 1, 2011

i thought it was my time, but my time has come

dear moo,

today, on the 7th anniversary of when i didn’t die, i am happy to report that my recently negotiated deal with the universe is allowing us more of what surviving car crashes is all about, time spent living LIFE. i hope you notice, my love. it’s all for you.

love, mom.

p.s.- i’m so glad i got to meet you.

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