witifulramblings

Archive for October, 2013|Monthly archive page

Day 101: On traveling to the store with my son

In Children, Kids, Teaching on October 25, 2013 at 2:48 am

There is always that hectic feeling when you have to run errands (doubly hectic as a single parent because you can never “retire” the children to your partner while you actively escape). There have been many moments, these doubly hectic moments, where the lip has folded out (my son’s lip of course), the head tilts downward, the arms lock at the elbows and then wrap around grabbing the lower back, there’s the occasional emphatic “hmph,” and the eye glare (out and beyond into the distance of course–what child would ever set eyes on a mother in pursuit of the grocery store–for milk–for that child’s morning cereal–oh no). Then there’s the body thrash, it’s abrupt, short, a gentle kick that’s just enough to rock the boat but not enough to sink it.

So many adventures like these have I experienced.

and yet…

Then there’s the moments where parenthood is something else. Something rare, yes rare, that’s right.

There we were, us too, and a dog. En route Famous Footwear to exchange a pair of “too big” clearance-priced basketball shoes. I’d begun my occasional self talk (i.e., I have a complete conversation with myself–an act that I’ve convinced myself only really smart people engage in) when my son interrupted me, “Mom, you know something?” I replied, “What do I know?” “You hold onto a lot. You need to imagine, imagine it’s a big balloon and you just let it float away off into the sky. Or it can be bird, one you hold in your hands and then–you let it fly away.” Then he motioned for me to look behind my seat, there I saw him mimicking his words, “You stand there holding so tightly onto your balloon, but its too hard. Let all the sad things go.”

I asked him where he learned this. He told me it’s what he does when he has to deal with the things in his life that make him sad.

Being a mother is such a multifaceted role, the things we learn from our children are often unexpected, sometimes difficult, but always the greatest lessons we will ever be an audience for.Image

********Day 100*********~it’s about time~

In Uncategorized on October 16, 2013 at 4:28 am

Today  marks my 100th post! I remember when I started this blog, in a lot of ways I feel like I am a different person now, in a different place, but then the same person too, in the same place. It’s ironic. What I do know is how this blog has helped me, it’s been my saving grace through many trials and it’s been a source to mark the happy moments too. When I look back at my ramblings I see that my words, words I thought I’d put  out there for others to read, have really been for me.

Oddly enough this post also coincides with my 29th birthday. Today was spent in a family court (again). Can I just say, what the hell is wrong with the California court system? Will someone please explain how a mother, two years removed from a federal prison sentence for selling 2 pounds of meth, gets near full custody of her child? The system is delusional and baffling.

On a happy note, I spent the evening with my family celebrating my birthday and ex-husband bashing (a move that always makes me feel better post court–thanks mom). What more could a women ask for? Sounds pretty good to this feminist. 

 

Day 99: On Worrying

In Happiness, Kids, life, Teaching on October 15, 2013 at 5:21 am

F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote his 11 year-old daughter while she was away at summer camp. The object of his letter was simple, he wanted her to know the very things that warrant worry (and the many things that do not). He writes, “my little half-wit–”

Worry about courage
Worry about cleanliness
Worry about efficiency
Worry about horsemanship…
Things not to worry about:
Don’t worry about popular opinion
Don’t worry about dolls
Don’t worry about the past
Don’t worry about the future
Don’t worry about growing up
Don’t worry about anybody getting ahead of you
Don’t worry about triumph
Don’t worry about failure unless it comes through your own fault
Don’t worry about mosquitoes
Don’t worry about flies
Don’t worry about insects in general
Don’t worry about parents
Don’t worry about boys
Don’t worry about disappointments
Don’t worry about pleasures
Don’t worry about satisfactions
Things to think about:
What am I really aiming at?
How good am I really in comparison to my contemporaries in regard to:
(a) Scholarship
(b) Do I really understand about people and am I able to get along with them?
(c) Am I trying to make my body a useful intrument or am I neglecting it?

Day 98: P.S. I Love You

In Books, Humanity, life, Love, Marriage, UK, Women on October 13, 2013 at 3:01 am

When I first saw the film P.S. I Love You, I knew it would always be a favorite of mine. It took me all the way across the world to Ireland, and it inspired my hike through the Wicklow National Forest–the very place where Holly met Jerry. Those that know me, know that I can, and do, watch this film over and over and over–

They often ask me, “why do you love it so much? It’s such a sad story.” While it does have its sad elements, I think there is something terribly empowering about the film. In it Holly has to learn how to make a life of her own because when Jerry dies Holly’s identity dies with him; he’s all she has ever known. She has to learn how to be by herself, one of the hardest lessons someone can endure in this life, and she has to learn how to build the very life that she questions at the start of the film, “I just see all of our friends buying houses and having babies–I wonder when our life is going to start?” Jerry laughs, “Our life has already begun, this is it, this is our life Holly.” After Jerry dies, Holly gets letters from him, the letters aren’t for Jerry, even though he claims they’re sent because “he just can’t let go yet.” They’re for Holly. They act as a mentor on her powerful, and oftentimes difficult journey.

I think we learn to love the things that we identify with. In an interview with the author of the book that inspired the film, the author describes this very feeling, “Writing this book was a very lonely process, but in a lot of ways it was very similar to what Holly experiences within the novel. It’s an isolating process, but you always come out on the other end better for it.”

I don’t watch the film for the “love story” aspect, I watch it because it reminds me how to be powerful and courageous. I watch it because it reminds me that this is my life and I shape the journey (part of the reason I went to Ireland two years ago). At the end of the film Holly’s mother tells her, “just remember that if we’re all alone then at least we’re all in that together too.” 142098210V

Daily Cupcake: When Your Kid is as Smart as NPR

In Uncategorized on October 10, 2013 at 3:16 am

The other morning my son asked “what is the affordable care act?” I explained to him that it is a law regarding health insurance. We then discussed how the government has shutdown due people who oppose this law. Point blank my 8 year-old says, “Well that’s weird, if the government shuts down how are they going to figure out how to get rid of the act or make it work?” Insightful, quite logical actually. 

Then I heard the exact same words on NPR tonight. I guess my eight year-old is one step ahead. Americans prefer hemorrhoids, cockroaches, and toe nail fungus over Congress.

As an aside, he also told me the other day that we can’t visit North Korea because they will put us in a prison camp and people in Greece keep money under their bed because they don’t trust the banks. This is what happens when your mom listens to news radio.

Day 97: Looking.

In Acceptance, Couples, Dating, Faith, Happiness on October 10, 2013 at 2:56 am

I’d lost all hope in love, and then I found it…and then I lost it.

The sadness is consuming and overwhelming. It hurts so bad, grieving hurts more than any physical pain and its hidden so no one sees it.

There is nothing lonelier than a blank phone, an empty bed, a quiet house, no one to share memories with, no one to share accomplishments with, no one to have fun with, laugh with, cry with. 

It’s so hard trying to mitigate this hurt. It’s a lonely process. 

There was a time when we first met, I think it was actually one of our first dates. He had gone fishing and he brought home Shad to cook–it was a rather bony fish and it didn’t turn out that well. The other night I visited with some friends and somehow the topic of “shad” came up, I told them how my boyfriend had once cooked it for dinner. They laughed, “that’s bait, you ate bait, no one actually eats shad.” I realized then that those are just memories, they’ll never happen again–not with him. I won’t eat “bait” again with him. It’s funny the things we hold on to, the things that seemed so insignificant at the time. I can’t glean a “lesson learned” from this, but I am trying. I have waited so long to meet someone who loves me. Where is he?

 

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