Life

I woke up this morning thinking about the definition of life...well I guess that isn't all together true. I really woke up with an annoying Taylor Swift song in my head, man does she haunt me with her music. So to battle the pop country boy girl fall in love nonsense I focused on other things. How I arrived at thinking about life was actually because of my dream. I am not ready to disclose the dream so we will just jump to the main reason for this blog. What is life? Some would argue it is the opposite of death but without really knowing what death is how would we know what life is? Some say it is linear, some say cyclical ect.

In the shower this morning I decided that life is different to everyone and can not be defined. It is a color, sound or feeling we have no words to describe. It reminds me of how God was explained to me as a child growing up in a Protestant church. Whatever life is you can not argue that we all experience it differently based on our nature and nurture. Two people who go through the same situation can see the experience completely different... what I am getting at, I guess, is that life is everything and nothing. No matter what we are in it and we can do what we will with it, even if that means ending it. Life is unexplainable and I am going to be late for work...GAH

back to the Taylor Swift rubbish.....

back to work

I will be going back to work on Monday. I am on a roller coaster of emotions about it. Whenever he is screaming or being fussy I am SO ready to be back at work but when he is happy and smiling I get really sad. I always thought I would be a great stay at home mom but I have come to realize it is probably not the best thing for me. I don't like not having distractions, other adult interaction, getting up and not wondering what to do with the day... I am looking forward to a routine and cherishing my weekends. I am not looking forward to missing things. What if the first time he giggles is for someone else? or rolls over? I know it is nothing personal and it doesn't mean anything but it still makes me sad that I won't be with him. What if he is upset? What if he wants his mommy? ha! What mom doesn't feel like this though and millions get up and go to work every day. It is just the way it has to be for so many of us. We have no choice. Monday will be interesting to say the least.

one handed blogging

Well it is official, I'm a mother. I have wanted this as long as I can remember. Has it been challenging? Sure, but that was expected and I like a good challenge most of the time. Here I am trying not to forget doing certain things for me which is why it is important to update this blog even if one handed. Has it been frustrating? Absolutely. It is frustration of the utmost extent. Why can't babies tell us what they need, where it hurts and how to fix it? Why can't he just know when a boob is stuffed in his mouth it means to suck? Has it been heartbreaking? You bet, I now know how my mother felt when I was upset or in pain and there was nothing she could do. When he cries so hard I feel helpless and broken. Is it magical and wonderful despite the above? Yes, yes and yes! When I look at him there are no words to express the amount of love in my heart or joy that I feel. When he looks me in the eyes so sincerely or makes the most adorable faces, I just melt. He is mine and I am his. For better or worse. I am excited to see what the future will bring with my little guy.

my hips don't lie

It is finally 7am. I have been waiting for it all night... a time that seems appropriate to "wake up." I would much rather be sleeping. My pillow isn't preventing my 38week pregnant body from being oh so sore. I will explain to you the pain I feel while trying to sleep through the night:

1. hips and butt feel bruised. Right, like as if I took a bad tumble or was hip checked into a wall. It feels like this deep ache that even hurts to touch.
2. burning aching throbbing down the leg. Why is it we have sciatic nerves? All I ever hear about is how much bother they can be when they are acting up. I mean what do they help us feel when they are not causing pain?
3. there is an alien trying to push it's way out of me. Hello my baby, hello my darlin, hello my ragtime giiiiirrrrl!
4. a non supported belly. For this one I can not describe the pain. It isn't a pain as much as just a jarring uncomfortableness. When I turn over in bed I need to immediately jam something under my over hanging belly.
5. boulder on my bladder. The levy is about to break. When the wind blows and the boulder moves I have to squeeze everything I have to hold in the dam. What a weird analogy...seriously I am demented.

OK OK enough whining. I wanted this. I am so close to achieving one of my goals in life. I am going to be a mom, and a good mom at that. I am not as miserable as I sound. I love being pregnant. I will miss him when he is no longer poking and prodding me from the inside. I will miss people telling me how cute I am because all the cuteness will have been sucked out of me by him. I will miss my glow! So with all the aches and pains he is almost here and it will all be so worth it!

this little piggy

I am about to go get a pedicure. Or as the cool people say "a pedi." I haven't always been this cool though. In fact anyone who really knows me would be surprised that I would even type the word. I have this weird foot thing... not in a good way. I don't like them. I think they are ugly and weird and I don't want to touch or see any one's feet but my own. Well that isn't all together true. A true test of love for me... if I can deal with the guy's feet. If I can touch or stand to look at his feet it must be real.
When I was 3 or maybe 4 I was visiting with my aunt. She decided it would be fun to paint my toes. I don't have any recollection of this and can only go by what they have told me. I don't think I protested but after she was done I disappeared. They found me sitting in a corner crying. When asked what happened all I said was "my toes are ugly" and demanded the polish be taken off.
So here we are 20 some odd years later and I am actually paying someone to do this to me. I had my first pedicure when I was about 15 or 16 and it was my brother's wedding. I was nervous but turns out I really enjoy them. They massage you... HELLO?? No one ever told me they massage not just the foot but up your leg.. I was drooling.
Needless to say I am all about them now. I don't get them all the time just for special occasions. I leave for Florida on Tuesday and there was no way I was going to take my shoes and socks off down there without one. Damn Maine winters!

channeling the elders

I have started to crochet. When I was younger and my Great Grandmother was alive she used to teach me how to do all kinds of different crafts. She was always making dolls, baking, knitting, sewing and crocheting. I remember her being so patient with me. If you had met her you would have loved her and I suspect you will see much of her presence in these blogs as I consider her to be one of the most amazing women I have ever been blessed to know. So back to crocheting. My mother and grandmother are also quite crafty and love to crochet, knit, sew and quilt. I figure there must be a gene for this talent and decided after years and years... like 20 or more, of being dormant, I would try again. My mother showed me the basics and sent me home with some yarn and a hook. I was crocheting away this evening when all these images popped into my head... my hands became my grandmother's hands. I could actually remember studying all three of the women I have mentioned as they crocheted. I could see them all so vividly wrapping the yarn around the hook and pulling it through. I didn't want to stop imagining it all. I could smell my grandmother's wood stove, I could hear my mom watching Oprah and I could see my great grandmother's eyes on me as she would speak to me all the while crocheting stitch after stitch with ease. Reality always seems to snap back in such an instant and it all melts away.

preface

It all started with a story I wrote in about the first grade. It painted the picture of a family of rabbits where the mom and dad rabbit were always fighting and it made the baby bunny sad. My mom received a phone call asking if everything at home was alright. It was, just my imagination and most likely too much TV. My parent's, although embarrassed by this story, encouraged me to stick with writing and for the most part I have. I was a narrative writing minor in college which of course means nothing except more course work at the time. So all that being said I can not promise to deliver in this blog. I can only hope something brilliant shakes out every now and then. All the rest will be pure shit I am sure. I am out of practice so forgive my bad grammar and outrageous spelling errors. These entries will most likely be written in a stream of consciousness format and if you don't like it don't read it. Or read it and then tell me just how shit it is. That is fine too. Either way comments are encouraged.

happy blogging