Summer into Fall

After two months of temps in the high 90s nearly every day, I am ready for a touch of cooler weather. I’m waiting for that first crisp morning when I grab the extra blanket that lives at the foot of the bed all summer. That feeling of breathing deep gulps of pure bliss. At 8300′, we usually get about two weeks of solid fall weather before it slips away into full-on winter. I’d have to say that those are my favorite two weeks of weather all year. I get a shiver of excitement just thinking about it. Until then, I’ll relish our dwindling ‘some hot’, but tonight I’ll dream of Fall.

And nothing says Fall like markets with handmade goodies, cider, and antiques. Here are a couple that I will try to get to. I’m sure Fisher won’t mind going as long as there are a couple of yummy food vendors and a park nearby where he can run off some energy.

Maybe there’s a great Fall market near you too.

 

 

Birthday Posthaste

“A bad day’s when I lie in bed and think of things that might have been.” - Slip Slidin’ Away, Paul Simon

Sunday afternoon. Slip slidin’ away into a lazy day.  Another birthday come and gone yesterday. Early 30s has slipped away. Mid-30s has snuck up on me like a sidewinder. Not fast and furious, but a sleek and seductive primal force sidling into my life. I’m starting to think that my thirties are all about moving slower and sensory reflection, taking the time to think about what I want the rest of my life to be, settling in and being content.  Overall, age at this point can best be described as both irrelevant and obnoxious.  A birthday is only a day on the calendar to mark the passing of time, which is obnoxiously showing its power in the number of gray hairs on my head.

I never dwell on age, except for that one day of year on which everyone wishes me well, the day that I eat cake without guilt, and have both dinner made AND dishes done for me. That’s the only day that I dwell on the fact that another year has passed by and left its mark on my body.

Someday I will look back on being thirtysomething and laugh my ass off at the fact that I dwelled for even one second on getting older at this age. But I’m allowed an occasional moment of self indulgence too. I think I’ve earned that. And if my older self disagrees, well, I guess I’ll just chalk it up to immaturity. And that’s allowed once in a damn while too.

“The only time you really live fully is from thirty to sixty. The young are slaves to dreams; the old servants of regrets. Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits.”  - Hervey Allen

Beach Daydreams

Sunday evening in a quiet house.  Less than a month to go before we pack up our little family and head to Florida for much-needed vacation. I am so in need of a week during which I’ll do absolutely nothing but lounge on the beach, drink summer cocktails, and play with the kids in the pool. Doesn’t that sound like heaven? It does to me. In this corporate work life I lead, time off is all too scarce. A week is precious.

A week to turn of the constant noise of email, IM, phone calls, and people knocking – got a sec?

A week to focus only on family and play and rest.

A week to refresh, renew, resurface.

A week to breathe deeply and fully.

Vacation here we come. In the meantime, we have 3 weeks and 5 days of busy days, work travel, friends coming to visit, toddler field trips, learning, and playing to achieve.  Just a month in the life. Tomorrow another Monday, we’ll go from there.

 

More Me

Thinking about water, and the ebb and flow of the tide. Thinking about renewal. A new season approaching. Once again, it’s been entirely too long since I’ve posted on this blog. I have a 26 month child now. As usual, work and home are not balanced enough, but I’m trying mightily. I realize now that it will always elude me because I will never be able to be home enough to assuage the mama guilt. It will always be hovering in the dark place that I usually don’t speak of, but I should. I should share more, open myself up more to friends and family. When I do that, I am reminded that I’m not alone in that dark place. It is shared by all the mothers and sisters and daughters who never feel that they do enough, or care enough, or work enough, or ARE ENOUGH.

It is such a common feeling among women. We always try to be more to everyone around us. Sometimes, when we are trying too hard, a manifestation of stress and fatigue bears down in a physical way. Lately for me it has been god-awful headaches. So my new commitment to myself is to try to be more to ME. More centered, more attuned to my needs, more calm, more creative. More ME. To begin is enough.

So today I took myself down to the Horseshoe Summer Craft and Flea Market. Thank you Denver handmade purveyors for inspiration and whimsy. A morning at the market and picnic lunch in the park with my lovely boy. Now THAT’s more me.

Discovery

“I don’t know who I am or what I am without you. All I know is that I should” – Missy Higgins

Toddlerhood and motherhood are all about discovery. Who am I without mama? Who am I without baby? Toddler says ‘Wow, maybe I really am my own person, with my own feelings and frustrations and goals.’  Mama starts to think ‘Wow, maybe I really am my own person, with my own feelings and frustrations and goals.’ Maybe motherhood is not the only thing that defines me anymore.

There is a glimpse of independence, a startle of recognition – Baby no longer…toddler is he. And now the hard work continues. How to encourage independence while still coddling? How to teach bravery while longing to keep him sheltered? There again – the subject of balance. How to be everything and nothing all at once?

Learning and discovering this new role for me and this new person for him is something of a wonder. I’m fascinated watching the whole spectrum of human emotions wash over his beguiling face in a matter of moments. Glee – confusion – frustration – hurt – sad – excited…WOW! Nothing is held back, nothing is fixed. We can discover everything about living life in the moment from a toddler. There is no reflecting back, no thinking about the future. There is only now. And now I want to be held, and now I want to get down, and now I want to be held…all in the course of a minute. It is truly a wonder.

So, where does that leave me as mama? I’m still trying to figure it out. I know it’s not to constantly coddle, and I know it’s not to let him dangle over the balcony, but somewhere in between I can figure out what he needs, while discovering who I am again. And I think maybe, just maybe, toddlerhood and motherhood are about both of us transforming into something new.

 

October Poetry

Leaves are falling.
Morning rain.
Mist on the mountain.
Home again.
Babies learning.
Open the door.
Chill in the air.
Spirit sings.

Mama-mia

I’m a mom. You know how once in a while you have a moment of clarity when you realize something all over again that you realized a long time ago? That happened to me this morning. It’s mothers day, and my husband – wonderful man that he is – gave me a card from my son, who’s of course, at 11 months, way to young to get me a card himself. It was a cheesy funny card, and as I opened it and read it, it hit me. This card is for me. I get a card and flowers and brunch out today. I’m a mom.

I’ve been a mama for 11 months of course, and even before that. I’ve even written here on this blog about the first moment that I became a mother. But today, another moment arrived. It’s here. He’s mine. I’m a mom.

~Happy Mama’s Day~

Solace

Friendship, real lasting friendship, is a rare gift. If we’re truly lucky, we will have a people on this earth who will be our friends until the end. No matter the distance between us, or the events of our lives, they are still a true friend. I have but a few, but those that I do, I cherish with all my heart. There isn’t much I wouldn’t give them if they needed it.  Nothing that would keep me from helping to make life easier for them. Why? Because they would do the same for me. An ear to listen. A back to strengthen. A smile to brighten. And laughter, always sweet laughter.  In a word, they give me solace.

Solace is defined as to amuse, allay, soothe, comfort. THAT, my dears, is true friendship. Those in our lives who amuse and comfort us, usually at the same time.  Who gives you solace when you need it the most? Who is always there for you no matter what?  This is what I will teach my son about friendship. True friends aren’t the people that are around when it suits THEM, but the ones who are selflessly by your side when YOU need it. And for that, you do the same for them. Always be kind to your friends. Cherish that rare gift. Give them solace and let them do the same for you.

Hello

So sorry, dear readers, that it has been over a month since I last posted on this blog. Day-to-day life rolled over me, leaving me spent and exhausted. In April, we vacationed in Florida visiting friends and family. Baby Fisher had his first trip to the beach, getting sand here, there, and everywhere.  Played with his cousin while his parents kicked back a few cold ones. Then, back to the grind of daily life. Work has been treacherous of late – long hours and not enough time to play or dream or write. I’ve been able to take a breath again today, and say hello, dear blog, let’s reconnect. I’ve missed you.

Intention

It all started with a wish. Or a dream. Or both. It’s the whisper of hope that life can be sweeter. That wishes do come true. That if we plant both feet solidly on the ground and believe that we can experience wishes fulfilled, it will be so. We can will our lives to be different, to be contented, to have meaning.

My wish for my son is to live a life full of passion and the belief in promise. That he will work hard and play harder. That his focus will be fixed on the experience, whatever it may be at each moment in life. It’s not the end game that makes life sweet. It’s not even the path to get there. It’s the way we navigate the path.  It’s how we choose to treat our people and surroundings. Because they are ours to keep or lose – decisions abound. Do you tread lightly? Do you give graciously? Do you love joyfully? These are the questions I will ask my son as he navigates his path through life.

Do I tread lightly? Do I give graciously? Do I love joyfully? These are the questions I will ask myself as I navigate my path. I will try to light the way by my actions, by my intentions.  I have a lot of work to do, that’s for sure. I need some navigational assistance here.  But intention means something to me. It’s a start. And that’s good enough for today.

Spring Awakening

Having a small child makes you think about winter in a whole new light, or lack thereof. The babe was born in June, and from July through September, part of our daily ritual was to take a long walk, sometimes two.  The fresh air and gentle jostling in the stroller or sling would lull him to sleep every time. I loved being able to get out of the house and enjoy an hour or two of peace.

Then winter arrived. The days grew shorter. The nights grew colder. As winter settled into our high elevation home, we entered a hibernation of sorts. No walks. No luxurious peaceful hour with a child lulled to sleep. 

March has come in like a lamb this year, and ~ hooray ~ the daily walks have commenced. Back to the stroller and front carrier.  Back to the birds chirping and squirrels hoarding as we walk by.  Now the babe stays awake for the walk. Head swiveling back and forth, trying to take it all in. The look of awe on his face at the awakening spring is dear to me. To be able to share my love of the outdoors with my child is one of the things I’m looking forward to the most. No chance of nature-deficit disorder in this family. My child will be bound to the world. At home in the trees. Informed by the clouds. He will know the meaning of a wilderness of sweets.

Pancakes and Bloody Marys

To start this post off on a gross but somewhat positive note, my son only vomited once yesterday.  We’re thinking that the antibiotics he was put on for his ear infection just tore up his stomach. I believe that amoxicillin is some nasty stuff and am not going to give him that again. We’ve been giving him Greek yogurt for the last couple of days to try to get some good fauna back into his belly. No throwing up so far today, knock on wood.

So, of course, with a happier healthier baby comes a happier mama and daddy.  Today has been the nicest Sunday that I’ve had in a long time. This week was our anniversary and my hubby’s birthday. But with everything going on, we didn’t manage to go out on a date night like we planned. We’ll try for next weekend instead.  

A- did get me a scrumptious assortment of berries and a lovely bouquet of roses for our anniversary. So this morning we made pancakes with fresh blueberries and blackberries, and I indulged in a long soak in the hot tub with a bloody mary. Oh yeah baby, now that is my idea of heaven! 

So the weekend hasn’t been too bad. In fact, today has been wonderful. This week is a busy one at work with meetings in Cheyenne. I’m praying that the worst of the puking is over for now. Oh, and that more pancakes and bloodies are in my future.

Three Weeks

I’ve got to say that the last couple of weeks have not been ones for the memory books. Between car accidents and illness and crises at work, I’m about at my wit’s end. It pretty much all started three weeks ago when we took Fisher to day-care for the first time. Three pediatrician visits in the last two weeks and he’s still sick. Now it’s projectile vomiting multiple times per day. Of six days of day-care (we were trying for 2 days per week), I’ve had to leave work halfway through the day to pick him up in the morning three times now. That’s not a very good track record. And since I work an hour from home, I’ve had it up to here (visualize me holding my hand above my head here) with the whole thing.

Since he hadn’t so much as had a runny nose before day-care, I’ve gotta think that’s the culprit. Is that wrong of me? Could it really be a coincidence? I don’t know… As a result, we’re seriously rethinking the situation. Nanny at home three days a week is sounding like a really good idea at the moment.

As for work, I can barely concentrate with the stuff going on at home. A month ago I was asked to take on more responsibility. Flattering, of course, but not exactly good timing. I feel like I’m treading water with jeans on there all day.

Oh yeah, and did I mention sliding off the icy road on the way home a week ago? Sliding into a guardrail is the icing on the cake of a crappy couple of weeks. I know I sound whiny. I should be thankful for what I have. But I’m tired and cranky, and am going to indulge myself by posting this rant. I can only hope that the next three weeks are better than the last.

Valentines Day

How do I love thee? Inumerable ways, and more. Valentine’s Day came and went this year in a blur of sore throats and ear drums. Usually I don’t give it a second thought…a Hallmark holiday I always call it. But this year…this year I have two valentines. Another boy has entered the world, and entered my heart. Tattooed love with invisible ink all over my soul. So a few days after the Hallmark holiday has passed, I find myself thinking about valentines and love letters.

To my husband…I love that you love me unconditionally. As I do you. Our lives could change in ways unfathomed, but still I would love you. I love that you honor your vows to me despite heavy emphasis on the “for worse” some days. I just plain adore you. As mygrandmother used to say “Je t’embrace” my valentine.

To my son…I love that you look at me adoringly as I greet you in the morning. I love your wide grins, your pouty face, your compact little body, your giggle, your sigh. I love the feeling of being your mother. The day you entered this world was my greatest blessing in life, my wee little sunshine. My darling valentine.

Happy valentines to all of my loved ones. Not the cheesy Hallmark-holiday valentine, but a reminder. A reminder to love. To be thankful for love. And treat those I love like every day is valentines day.

Sick Baby + Sick Mama

So, I’ve been seriously neglecting my fledgling blog of late. Partly because I’ve been busy. But mainly because I’ve been sick. Modify that – Fisher and I have both been sick. In my last post, I talked about visiting day care. Well, last Monday we took Fisher for his first day at day care. And what do you know?…Tuesday afternoon he got sick for the first time. Go figure. Sick baby = unhappy mama.  It didn’t last long initially – just a day. He seemed to get better pretty quick. Then Saturday afternoon he started coughing, runny nose, other cold symptoms. Monday morning? Fever again.  Turns out he has his first ear infection.  Needless to say that makes for a not-so-fun week.  But on top of it, I got sick too. Turns out sick baby = sick and unhappy mama. 

So part of striving to be superwoman is knowing that when the crap hits the fan, like when the household is sick and unhappy, something’s gotta give. In this case it was writing for the last couple of weeks. Hopefully we’ll all get back to our usual healthy selves soon.