Living On Feminine Overdrive

Being on my period turns me into a weeping, sentimental maniac. I love that I feel deeply, I get the powerfully feminine vibrance of it all but after a while it feels like a drug trip that won't end. I have the hardest time seeing reality through the fog of induced extreme feeling and by the end of lots of days I just want to hide in a box. And maybe never wake up. Hormones suck.

I am normally a person with very little malaise, jaded entitlement and dull boredom. The world is a sparkling place and I love that I see each shell and bead and notice all the little things, appreciating it all. This time of the month though, I'm on such a ridiculous hormonal ride that its like being my usual perceptive self x 1,000,000,000.

 I was teary watching Ru start his first riding lesson. The sun was golden in the dust of the riding ring as he climbed the mounting block in his little velvet riding helmet and....there I was crying with joy over the beauty of it all. I did it discreetly. I think. I mean, I wasn't sobbing....just a few sniffs and a hurried wiping with the sleeves of my chambray shirt. The other boys didn't even notice, they were too busy swinging on the fence rails and trying to throw horse poop at each other. Dear little things. WHY are they so insane?!?! Here I am killing myself for them, being a wonderful mother and they continue to do things like attack each other and fight, no matter how kind I am to them. Why me???? Is all my life for nothing???? I have spent my life on this. This is it. Four ill-behaved boys and a house that is a giant mess....that's my whole life. My Lord. What have I done? I could have gone to mime school or married that rich Korean guy I met in Guatemala. Guatemala...there is a Guatemala. I mean, doesn't that just tear you to pieces??? What a beautiful world we live in. The world is incredible. I can't even handle it.

Its sort of like that.

Seriously.

That's slightly overkill...right?

What do you guys do to cope with over the top emotions? I breathe, try to realize that they aren't real, sometimes I laugh. I go outside. I eat. (more often than I'd like to admit although I am eating only healthy foods) I work. I control things that I can manage, like obsessively folding the napkins and scrubbing a spot out of the upholstery. I read because escape makes me happy. I space out. I hug my kids. I turn on music and dance. (although honestly this often inflames things emotionally, truth be told) and sometimes I just cry. I text my husband. I count the days on my calendar until I will feel normal again. I garden until my fingers hurt. I call friends. I know that I'll be sane again soon. Until then, I'm just over here sucking blood and howling at the moon, waiting for the spell to break.

Ru did have his first horseback riding lessons, which is a big dream he's been carrying for a while. Pretty amazing to watch him fearlessly up there on the big mare they paired him with, leaning into the work, learning to direct and hold his own.

The weather has been made to order....sun and gentle breezes, warm air and open window humidity level. Just exactly right. Grass is frothing at the edges of the highways now and the hens have started trying to take dust baths in their yard again. Yesterday we had the guinea pigs out in the lawn while we planted pansies in the urns at the front door and spread new mulch at their feet.

I am eating clean and exercising, sometimes with A and sometimes by myself, but consistently no matter who comes along for the ride. I have learned that I love tricep dips and hate wall sits and that I can do real push-ups. My current record is 13 in a row! I also found out that one of the water bottles that I own already has ounce marks on the side, as if it was just waiting for me to start watching my fluid intake and actually use it to try to get hydrated. Lemon water is my new best friend.

I think I'm almost to the point where I can actually say I've taught two children to read. One more library card awaits for our family. Teaching small people to do things that have nothing at all to do with normal human function is miraculous. I feel like I have taught someone to climb walls or revive babies from comas. So beautiful to see the words on the page slide from jumbled symbols to smooth, linked codes that untangle steadily and watch the little voice managing it all perk up with expression and cadence. Life is beautiful. Okay...time to go to bed. I'm tearing up again.

My Feet Have A Dream

Every tootsie's gotta dream.....
You know that thing about how girls are supposed to be obsessed with shoes? Yeah. I'm not. I mean, I have a bunch of shoes but its nowhere near an obsession, I basically can't hack high heels at all and none of the shoes I own are of any value....most of them aren't even purchased new. Hello estate sale shoes! Hello Goodwill wonders!

But...BUT....then there are these shoes. *sigh* I've been thinking about them for months. They're kind of my dream shoes. Hand made, custom fit to my crazy high arch, sausage toed, super wide feet, a grassroots company where they're working with real, natural leather right here on the East Coast. I realize the shoes are 150 dollars a pair but they are far more versatile and in my opinion more romantic than any runway Leboutins. I waffle back and forth between wistfully daydreaming about a pair of West Indians or a set of New Chinese in that rich, classic brown color. They may be most the ideal, perfect, crunchy chick shoe ever conceived.... forget Birkenstocks and Dansko clogs!

I see a visit to their workshop in my future. Aurora, New York...I'm coming sometime soon!

Pregnancy Portraits Fourth Time Around

Here are the long awaited pregnancy portraits. Usually I take them all myself, some kind of make-shift tripod arrangement and a million takes. This year I had the handy help of a pint-sized 6 year old photographer, Ru the magnificent.

So, here I am...all 38 weeks of me and Baby. Impatient and panicking by turns about the time left.

Poetry Friday: A Poem About Inner Workings

 I am often asked how and sometimes why I do so much ("with three kids", they say incredulously!) besides just the laundry and the vacuuming...how is fuzzy...it's helter skelter, it's sometimes messy, it's creativity and prioritization and a million little invented systems to make it all work...but, why?

That's the poem for today.

Machinery Maintenance
I create, to keep my shiny, inner gears twirling.
The wild smudge of cyan on my brush tip
Is antidote to the angsty smear in my mind.
All these poems and paintings and frittatas
 I throw them tumbling madly from:
My hands, my soul, my brain, my very self.
If I stopped, I'm afraid the works would gum.
I would hate to see my interior hum,
Grind to a slow, pained, sticky glugg
The psychologist would put his ear
To my chest and furrow his brow
"Hmm...I'd say she's stalled. Still living,
But just kind of frozeny-glued up inside.
We see it all the time with these mothers.
I wouldn't worry.
She's good for another 40 years!"

To see other Poetry Friday participants in action, visit: The Poem Farm

Chuggin' On Down The Coast

Well, how in the world can I begin to re-cap our adventures so far? Just a couple of days in and the "Moments to Remember" are beginning to dog-pile in my brain to ridiculous heights. We've walked through redwood forests, eaten seafood, driven along the sea cliffs, had a great (albeit very short) visit with A's maternal relatives, eaten about three rounds of fresh California strawberries and had many a happy talk together, driving winding California roads while two short people snore behind us in the backseat. So far, so good.
As my dear, midwife told me..."This kind of [very pregnant] travel is just a different thing. You must just wear a different lens and adjust your plans as needed." And indeed we do find ourselves adjusting. We walk slower, we take a lot more breaks and we have learned to get up in the morning, read our supposed itinerary and then chuckle up our sleeves together and make guesses at what we'll actually do. I'm holding up pretty well although I do find that I start crashing at about 8:30 at night and absolutely no use to A in the "supplying directions to our intended hotel" department. I basically snore while he and his gps take us on down the road to a good, soft bed. Its a great feeling to know you can be replaced electronically if needed.


Photos not uploading tonight for some reason so I will try to add a few in the morning and hope to keep sharing photographically as we go some more....