Recapitulation

RECAPITULATION

Well, I feel like I have to do this before I can really begin here. 

I'm not simply starting fresh; life is more complicated than that.

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Harry

Walking home in the rain, having just dropped the kids off for an afternoon visit with their dad, carrying groceries heavy like how I feel, I saw Harry. Harry is a man in his 80s who lives nearby. I see him often in the neighbourhood, and--even better--at karaoke. To be honest he kind of gave me the creeps a tiny bit when I first met him. But then one night at karaoke he told me with misty eyes that I reminded him of his mother. That (cautiously) changed things for me. 

Harry is inspiring! He comes to karaoke by himself and sometimes even has his walker supporting him as he makes his way up for his turn. He always sings "On the Street Where You Live" from My Fair Lady. He sings it so strongly and beautifully it always pulls at my heart a little bit.
Today when I saw him on the street I said "Hi Harry", and then his face lit up as he recognized me. I had just been in that on-the-verge-of-tears-in-public moment but I tried to perk up. He said "How are you?", I said "Oh, I'm ok...how are you?" Harry replied with a tough smile and strong voice: "Terrible!!"
"Ha!", I said, "Me too!"

I felt a little bit better. I even laughed!
That man's honesty perked me right up. Sometimes we just feel terrible and we might as well say it.
Throw it right out there into the rain!

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The Real World

So, yesterday my mom and step-dad visited.
They took us out to eat. This is pretty much the only time my kids go to a restaurant, when family visits, so it's a very special thing. They get to order Pirate Packs with a chocolate coin and ice cream!
The restaurant was super busy, so it took awhile to get a table. My eldest started complaining, "Mama why is it taking so long?"
I did what I usually try to do in parenting--empathize and then put a positive spin on things.
"I know, it's hard to wait. But you know what? This is what's so nice about being in a restaurant, you can just sit and relax while someone else gets your food ready and-----"
(Wait. What?!?!?)
I caught myself and started totally laughing.
My daughter's face had a "does not compute" expression on it.
"HA!!!!! That's exactly what you do at home isn't it?!" I said, kind of to her, but mostly so I would hear it.

Yeah, maybe it's time for my 8.5 year old to do more chores!
I don't think that's the out-to-eat result she wanted. And I know there won't be a chocolate coin for her at the end. But, I'll try to empathize and put a positive spin on it.
To quote a line from one of her Dear Dumb Diary books, when Jamie Kelly asks her dad why school has to be so awful sometimes he responds with:
"Well, that's because school (doing chores) is supposed to prepare you for the real world, which also really su----" and her mom interrupts just in time.
Oh, that line is so good.
Positive spin though--thank goodness there ARE at least chocolate coins and ice cream from time to time :)

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Jackie

So today I was feeling pretty ho-hum.
I'm on my own on Sundays, and sometimes that's great, but other times it's not. I decided to get out of the house, snap out of it! My jog hadn't done the trick, I needed an extra boost. So I went walking to do some errands. First, though, I wanted to hit up my favourite thrift store, and on my way there I saw Jackie. Oh, Jackie!

You guessed it, I know her from karaoke. She's a bit cuckoo-crazy, but I love her. I mean, I'm cuckoo-crazy too, we're kindred spirits.

She was sitting in the Dairy Queen and when she saw me walk by through the window she got right up and came outside, and asked me to join her.
Jackie is like this old Hollywood movie star (um, I think literally, actually...) who is probably about 80. She wears the flashiest outfits and jewelry, and comes to karaoke by herself and always sings "Black Velvet" (oh, my, goodness) and Patsy Cline stuff. She brags about how young men hit on her, and she complains about her husband who works all the time. She's rich, though, she's a well kept woman, a faithful wife who is very lonely, and very adventurous.

I told her I was gonna stop in a couple thrift stores. She went on and on about the clothes she'd just bought at those places (don't know why, since she's so rich...) and asked if I wanted company while I looked around. I could tell it would crush her if I said "Nah"...and honestly I was feeling a bit lonely too. Plus, she's a fun lady! So before I knew it I was in Jackie's huge Mercedes! She wanted to go a bit farther down the road. I would've walked...but Jackie wanted to drive us.
Turns out the thrift stores were closed by now, so we hit up this Chinese clothing store with lots of interesting stuff. She introduced the owner to me, saying over and over, "This is my friend", "I want to show this to my friend", "I brought my friend here today."

At one point early on I was holding up a gold and green sweater and I say to Jackie "Isn't this cute?" and I look at her and she's trying on the SAME SWEATER!
Ha!!!!!!!!

Now we're joking about how we'll have to text each other before karaoke so we don't walk in wearing the same top :)
Jackie really perked me up out of my ho-humness, out of the stewing I was doing today. She said cynically funny things like, "Oh don't listen to those men, they'll tell you anything", and ridiculous things like "Hey look at this shirt, the flowers on it are so virginal!" Oh, Jackie!

Just the extra boost I needed. Just the thing to remind me that loneliness comes in all kinds of costumes--flashy and rich and married too. 

Jackie was the very best part of my day today. I like to think I helped boost her day too.

After our little shopping adventure, she was off to the club for some swimming. Me, well I was spent. I headed home...

And by the way, I never did do my errands. Whoops!

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Night and Day

Three nights a week the kids are with their dad, his girlfriend, and her young son. It's a nice arrangement because we all live close by, the changeover goes smoothly, and the kids seem to enjoy and appreciate the extension to their family. But this means that by Monday I am usually missing them a lot, and by Tuesday when they come back to me it is a total shock to the system! If you are a parent, you likely remember fondly those days when you were "free"...how different it was, all that. Well, I experience that shift every week. I get to clearly see that difference every week. And I tell you: it is indeed Night and Day!!!

Just a little snippet of stories thanks to my 3 children, from a typical Day around here:
1) Well, for starters, my eldest wrote this note on her youngest sibling's behalf, which I promptly posted on the fridge: "I peed. Love H----." She did this awhile ago, and I saved it and put it on my fridge cause it's just too hilarious. It epitomizes something for me...not sure what, but it does. And it really caught my eye tonight while the tornado of my children was back swooping through the home, uprooting all the quiet tidiness. Also because we ran out of toilet paper after dinner and I was NOT dragging all 3 out for a walk to buy that! Two of them loved the adventure of knocking on a neighbour's door to get a roll for the other one patiently waiting on the toilet, though.
"I peed. Love H----."
Yes.
2) Speaking of H, and children's (humans'?) strange attraction to bathroom humour, tonight he was trying to get me to fix something for him. I asked him to clear his dinner dishes in exchange (since he was supposed to do that anyway), and he huffed in resignation: "Ok fine!" But then he said "First I need to call somebody with my favourite phone," and he picked up my old cell, "Hello somebody! I pooped my pants!"
Ha!!! Yes, my laughing at this will surely encourage it.
But really, his timing and goofiness are awesome.
At least the note on the fridge doesn't have THAT line :)
3) Last but not least--my middle daughter. This child has been exclaiming "Oh my God!" like some kind of valley girl so very, very much. I've not been to church in ages, and God knows I'm known to swear up a storm (ok, not usually in front of my kids...!) but my religious upbringing has me cringing every time I hear my own daughter use that phrase! Tonight I said to her "You know, some people think that phrase is rude to say," "Really?!" she asked, dumbfounded. "Well yeah--Great Grandma H really wouldn't want to hear you say that," "Oh, well I won't say it around her then" (oh...she's a sneaky smart one!)
"Ok. Yeah some people think it's rude to God to say that", "Really?!!! I wish somebody had told me that before!" 
Well, you're welcome T. 
And you're welcome, God.

You know, I fixed the thing H wanted me to fix. When I handed it to him he said "You did that? You, with your own self?!! Thank you Mama!" 

You're welcome. 
Yes I can do this with my own self! I don't always love it, but I'm always grateful for it. 

And, I'll be honest, by the end of the 4 nights doing this parenting with my own self, those 3 nights on my own are pretty necessary and therapeutic! I've been thinking...it's a shame not many parents get more of a regular, rejuvenating break--we ALL need it! We need it to remember who we are, and to prep for the next round of craziness ❤️

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Grief

I've always been that mom who lets her kids get soaking wet in the rain. It's a beautiful sensory experience! You feel so alive! Our 30 minute walk home from school on rainy days is such a time.

I've been thinking a lot lately of the importance of feeling, of experiencing our senses like we can in the rain--if we let ourselves--and especially of experiencing our emotions. Numbing out to life is so common, and so easy to fall into. The phenomenon has touched my existence in so many ways, over and over and over (and over, and over...) again. It comes back to haunt me in people I meet all the time. I find myself throwing my hands in the air in surrender and confusion so much! Why?!!! Why again?!!!

Feelings in life can be so painful, so strong, that the urge to want to escape them becomes overwhelming. It is awful, though, when our sporadic escapes turn into daily and destructive routines wherein the thing that used to be the escape is now just the jail we are held in. I've not been in that jail, but I've seen others in it, or around it, or being led to it, or teasing it, or not even knowing they were actually surrounded by its walls. I've seen it too much. It intersects with me far more than I would like, and I cannot figure out why. Why?!!!

I did, however, come to the very clear and liberating realization recently that I am grieving! Grieving a lot of things. And it seems that new things to grieve knock on my door regularly. I am feeling a lot of intense emotions, and this is ok. I don't (usually) try to escape this grief. Something urges me to sit with it. In fact, I seem to be opening myself up to it, even when I really do just want to run away! There's no way out, though. It's like being pregnant and realizing that yes, you kinda helped get yourself in this situation, and now there's only one way out of it--let the new life push through--the process will be excruciatingly beautiful. Just accept it, that is the only way.

***

I have been making space in my life to feel this process, to work through it and face it and hold it and let it surround me. Whenever I do try to escape it, it just comes back stronger. It's not done with me! Maybe I'll know when it is, but for now I'm accepting it. Like getting soaking wet in the rain, it makes me feel more alive. And of course, that rain is cleansing too.

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Take Back the Streets

I haven't owned a car for the last 5 years. I feel grateful every single day that I can get around without one! That I can bike to work, walk the kids home from school, do all my errands on foot--library, bank, thrifting, pool, bakery, drug store, produce--everything!

Other options:
*Transit if I'm going farther
*Car co-op if I'm in a hurry
*Hail a taxi if I want to feel extra cool, sophisticated, independent and metropolitan

Today I was just a bit that crazy gal walking around the neighbourhood with her flowery cart and bags full of groceries for the week. My dear LITTLE crazies come back tomorrow! I had to get this errand running out of the way...doing it with them would draw even more attention to myself. Trust me, I know that all too well.

Walking home with this large amount of stuff, noticing people watch me as I rearranged the bags to a carry-able position again, stopping every now and then to take a break when my arms hurt, I looked around at the trees and the buildings, heard the sounds all around me outside, took some deep breaths and thought to myself--yep, this is much better than sitting in traffic.

I think more people would feel happier if they spent less time in a vehicle, and more time outside walking around. Do it if you can! Take back the streets!!

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He Was Someone's Baby
So earlier tonight I was out and about on my own. I got off the bus to transfer home and started walking to my destination. But then I saw this jarring site! A man was sort of tipped over out of his wheelchair--which was full of his blankets and worldly possessions--kind of in a fetal position/face plant on the cold hard sidewalk. His nose looked a bit bloody too. He'd face planted out of his chair right near an abandoned-looking building by the bus stop.

I went up to him and said "Are you ok?" and he tried to look up at me, but otherwise didn't move a muscle. He said, "Yeah I'm ok". I said "Do you want me to call for help? Do you need medical help? Are you waiting for someone?" and he said, "No, I don't need help."
I was really torn. I started walking away, but then walked back and asked again for good measure, bending down and looking him right in the eyes. The other people around weren't doing anything, and it seemed like they didn't even notice.
I didn't want to further degrade his dignity by making a huge scene calling cops or medical care, he kept saying he was "fine" and I wanted to respect his words...but he sure didn't look fine to me.
I still feel weird about that. Maybe it was just enough that someone actually noticed him and talked to him?
But gosh, some people have it really rough.
I kept thinking how he was a baby once, a kid, and now what?!
Awful. It can sure be a cruel world.

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Leave It!
I need a basement to send my kids to for all this rough-housing!

Friday night=leave the mess. Leave it! Leave the toys, leave the cushions all crazy, leave the dishes, leave the crumbs. It just now got quiet in here, after our movie night. I'm spent.

After pizza, popcorn, ice cream and The Polar Express, the girls did a little art and my son and I read and had a pillow fight. He was in heaven.

Then some drama started between the girls...one didn't like the way the other was depicting her as an angel in her art. Specifically(!): T thought she should be holding something in her hand, but G refused to cave. I tried to help, but mostly said, "Talk about it in the morning. You're too tired to sort this right now." I'm sure they could see I was too tired too!

Then, getting ready for bed and trying to find my son pajama pants but being unsuccessful, (hello! when is my laundry fairy coming anyway?!!!) I say to him, "Here, these are pajama pants" (not really, though, but they're soft!) and I say, "See, look at the tag, it says 'H----'s Pajama Pants'!" and he grabs them from my hands and says indignantly, "No! Them says 'PANTS'! See?!"

Ok fine.

After finding him pajama pants, and after a little more drama with everyone, and what seemed like forever laying next to H to get him to sleep, I emerged. To the quiet.

The quiet mess.

I used to not be able to relax in such an environment. But hey, it's no problem when exhaustion hits!

Besides, so much joy happens in the mess! Art and pillow fights and rough-housing and movie nights. And H yelling, "Happy Christmas Mama!" with arms outstretched at the end of the movie. 
It's all just a beautiful mess sometimes isn't it? 

Leave it!

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And Name It
Sometimes someone comes along and names it for you, gives you the words, names the feeling you're feeling. I remember a friend doing that for me awhile back. It was such a moment of clarity--in just a word!

Sometimes the clarity comes from great art too--a photograph, a painting, a poem, a song.

Today I saw my counsellor. She helps me with that too, naming it. I say the things, tell her the stories (and secretly hope this wonderful and insightful priest doesn't think I'm toooooooo crazy!)
Most of the time I go in there I have so much to say! So many stories from just a couple weeks' time. At least life isn't boring.

I'm off work these next two weeks, and was on my own tonight so I treated myself to an extra night out. I got very brave and went all on my own to a new spot, just needing to sing again. I ended up seeing some familiar stray cats from my Saturday night karaoke-ing tradition. These regulars, all needing the outlet for whatever reason, just like me.

I got to talking to one of the men tonight, and just as I suspected he had a Story. I mean, we all do, but some are more appalling and dramatic than others. His was that, and it didn't surprise me, with the way he sings. He said at one point he came out to sing 6 nights a week! It was so nice connecting with him in this new way.

My last song was this Linda Ronstadt one. 

I was going to leave straight after doing it. But then another stray cat came up to do another sad song, and I just had to stay for it. He most certainly has a Story too, the way he sings. Afterwards I told him how much I love when he does that song (George Michael's "One More Try") and he looked at my face and said to me, "Let's hug it out". I'm not too touchy feely, but gosh that was my second stray cat hug of the night! And it was just what I needed. (And no, these men were NOT simply hitting on me people!) He walked me to the bus after that. We chatted about karaoke, I said how there are so many regulars! He said, "That's because it's therapy. It's music."
I already knew that, but to hear it from someone else, well sometimes that what's we need. And there it was again, someone naming it for me.

These two people know some of my story too now. We've got the karaoke bond.

This may do nothing for anyone out there, reading this, but it's helping me as I write it, it's helping me name it some more! This is usually how great art is born, right? This ain't that :) but it might connect with just one of you, and help you name something too. At least I hope so.

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Experience, a Deceptive Memory
Through a child's eyes too I saw the snow today. My son still finds it so new and exciting! He kept saying "It's Christmas?" and referred to us both as versions of Frosty the Snowman. As we walked to the school to pick up the girls I warned him not to get his hands toooooooo much in the snow yet, because his mittens would get too wet too fast, and then his hands would be freezing.

"Why mama?"
"Why mama?"
"Why mama?"
And then I heard myself say, a bit exasperated, "Well I just know this from experience!"

I was hoping he'd listen to me, heed my warnings, rather than have to learn through experience himself. But maybe his mittens would prove to be waterproof after all, and the risk would be worth it? He'd go unscathed and carry on this way next time? Or maybe he'd get sopping wet mittens, sopping wet hands, and then I'd never have to give him this kind of reminder again? I mean, that's what we adults often think around children...Listen to MY Wisdom or Learn from YOUR Mistakes the First Time! BUT!! In all these expectations we have for children, younger and less developed and more vulnerable than we are in many ways, we often need to heed our OWN advice!
Tell a child to be patient! Hmmm am I patient?
Tell a child to be kind! Hmmm am I kind?
Tell a child to just calm down. Hmmm is that easy for ME?
Tell a child to just plan ahead, think through the steps, anticipate consequences, all that. Hmmm hmmm hmmm.

Expect a child to learn from experience? Well yeah, it's pretty much the best teacher. But, kids or not, sometimes we're all a bit on the slow-side with learning from experiences aren't we? How many times do we repeat the same mistakes? How many times do we, for Whatever Reason, NOT learn through experience?

That little exasperated phrase I used with H today, "Well, I just know this from experience!" ...it's been kind of haunting me. Hanging around.

When I stepped away from what I'd said, and kind of looked at it, tried to see it through a child's eyes I guess, well that's when it all seemed a bit more clear.

Hmmm.
And ok, for the record, H's hands DID get sopping wet. And on the way home he was crying because they were freezing. And yeah, he and I will probably be having the same conversation tomorrow :)

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Peace Begins with Me

I'm sure we're not the only family that goes nuts-o with too much excitement at Christmastime.

Christmas caroling! A late night!! Then a Christmas concert! Another late night!! Schedules are thrown off and all seems wacky and hyped up.

T's class sang "Peace Begins With Me" at the concert. As I was getting the kids ready for bed, and my son was flipping out over every single step, and I was trying to keep it light by making jokes and saying things like "You're losing your marbles!" ("I don't got them!" he managed to say writhing on the floor fighting me about something or other...)T chimed in with, "Yeah H----, peace begins with you."
Oh Wow. I totally cracked up. It was perfection!!!

Peace begins with me though too, and as the bedtime shenanigans wore on, and my son pushed it with every last drop of energy he had, and then T asked me to read this Super Long lift-the-flap book and I said "Nope! Too long. Pick a shorter one for tonight" (it was already an hour past bedtime!)...well T lost her marbles and her peace too. Then so did I. And I yelled. And the girls cried.

The icing on the cake though is that my son was so exhausted he fell asleep during that ordeal, so I didn't have to lay next to him while he wriggled around trying to get comfy for 20 minutes.

Peace begins with me!
Ok, I'll try again next chance I get. But first I have to find my marbles. I hope they come back to me when I sleep.

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(Maybe) The Cliches Are True

You can't judge a book by its cover.

The cliches are true...life keeps telling me that. I'll still try and test them though, cause that's more fun :)

Hey I got these cheap pogo sticks to get the kids what they'd asked for for Christmas! I bought them online, wasn't sure if they'd actually work, but they are amazing!!! And what a full body work-out to counteract the endless food and sitting around at Christmastime. I kept stealing them today--too much fun! No, you can't judge a book by its cover. What a pleasant surprise these pogo sticks were!

I was thinking of that cliche today, out running, seeing people's Christmas decorations and having these dark thoughts about the holiday. The cheer of it all. The faces people put on to try and make it "perfect"...or to try and make it just LOOK perfect. "Who knows what kinda dramarama goes on behind the doors of THAT festive looking house!" I thought, jogging by, the darkness lurking in my mind, as it does...but getting more fluid and energetic while I was outside exercising.

It's hard not to get caught up in the "supposed to" ideas of Christmas. We compare ourselves to the past, to others, to our expectations for the future. We think maybe the ads and the cheer should just be So Real. But they're pretend. And what we actually have is Right Now. And for some people that Right Now is actually really awful, really disappointing, really boring, really lonely, nothing like how it's "supposed to" be. Just like how sometimes the presents mislead us...in their wrapping, or maybe in how much we thought they'd make us happy.

The happiness comes from love and connectedness. And many people don't feel that Right Now. And even IF their celebrations look, from the outside, to be "perfect"...well you can't judge a book by its cover!

Last year at Christmas I was at my mom's, without my kids. It was super weird. Weird and lots of other, more painful, words. We went to the theatre and saw the movie "La La Land" and for at least a whole hour after that I sobbed...in the theatre, in the car, in my room. Love and connectedness were there, but not the way I knew them. And on Christmas Day! I remember traveling to my mom's the day before, and seeing all these people at the airport, all these families together, and I was by myself. And I kept thinking, "Well they might be smiling, but who knows what kind of dramarama
goes on beneath all that smiling, and togetherness, and perfect-looking-ness!"
You can't judge a book by its cover.
I know!!
Soooooooo cliche!!!
So true.

People, I was gonna try and lighten it up today for you. But I simply can't! My mental health is fine, don't worry. I mean, tonight my dear Grandma even said to me, "I don't worry about you out there, you've got a good head on your shoulders." (Thank you Grandma!)
But dear Grandma! She walks around in total pain because her feet hurt so bad. This is her first Christmas in nearly 70 years without her husband. I asked her about her feet, she mentioned how he used to rub them, she was perfectly pleasant, perfectly strong. You'd never know she'd gone through anything terrible this year. But she had. Remember what I've been saying? You know, the book thing? Pretend I'm saying it again. Cause I am.

Let's be kind to each other. And gentle.
Maybe slower to judge is a good idea?
And let's be kind to ourselves as well. Be in the Right Now. Not in the supposed to's.
And check in with people who's Right Now isn't really how it's supposed to be. Cause they need us. And we've all been there.

Tomorrow I'll try bouncing on one of those pogo sticks a little more. Maybe bring some lightness back into my thoughts? 

But hey. These ones are good too.

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Sentimental Fool

I hate mushy-gushiness, but for better or worse I can be a painfully sentimental old soul. Maybe you already know that? Anyway, what a combo.

It's because I'm that way that I bought this print in Tacoma. It's actually old sheet music. I saw it sitting at some vintage treasures shop (my favourite kind of place to be!!), I tried to leave it there, went shopping elsewhere, tried to forget it some more, but I couldn't. I kept thinking about it. So before my sister and I drove away from the little shopping district I told her I had to go back to that spot and buy that thing, and get a frame for it.

I think it reminds me of my Grandma Mom...it's something she would've liked too, maybe even hung up, or played on the piano and sang along to. She's been gone nearly 20 years but we had a bond, a pull toward each other, and I think of her every day.

Now my room feels more complete with this hanging in it!

It's impossible for me to not be this sentimental way. Lately too I've just been thinking: do we have any free will at all? We are so shaped by our experiences, our genes, our upbringing, so much stuff...do we REALLY have any free will? Can a person really, really change?

I mean, I don't always mind being sentimental--it's not at the top of the list of things I'd change about myself(!!)--but there are other things. We all have the things. For example, I obsessed over this print. I couldn't stop thinking about it. It's almost like I was pulled by some force greater than myself to go back and get it!

And other people! The things they have, for better or worse. Can they change? Are we all, instead, just in line to repeat the same patterns in our life over and over?

Or...maybe I shouldn't be so drastic? Maybe it's just when we look at the Big Picture it can seem we're all doomed by our circumstances. Because it IS always true that we are *maybe* free in our small choices. (??)

And the small choices paint the Bigger Picture anyway.

"Let Us Waltz As We Say Goodbye"--the name of the song on the print. That would've tugged on my heartstrings even way back as a 6 year old who'd cry on the last day of school cause I'd never have that teacher again! Who'd sob when I had to leave my Grandma Mom's house after a two week summer visit, feeling the lump in my throat all morning, hoping I'd keep it together this time, but never being able to.

We're doomed!

Well I'm glad I made this small choice to get the picture. It reflects back to me lots of things that I find beautiful and sad in life, lots of memories...even though it's new to my home. It's like I've always had it? It knows I've always been this way and always will, for better or worse ❤️

All this, it's no new conundrum, I know. But it's always worth a re-visit. Especially with a new year approaching. Auld Lang Syne and all...

And yeah, this sentimental soul DOES love that song, and that other one too, and that other one... :)

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Make-Do Happy New Year

"Ummmm T-, where exactly are you gonna SLEEP?!" (How many times have I asked my girls this question when I see their beds covered in STUFF?!)

Without skipping a beat:
"In my BED, of course!"

We make-do.
I love that little term. Make-do.
I think I'm pretty good at it.

Talking to a couple "professional" artsy types recently about something like karaoke, I realized these people would probably be good at it, but they'd take it MUCH too seriously and wouldn't have any fun!

Unless! Unless they just decided not to tryyyyy sooooo harrrrrd. Loosen up!

It's not about that, karaoke, it's about a lot of stuff in life. And I think it's relevant here in the new year, all these resolutions, all these "I don't want what things happened to me last year to happen again!", all these *fresh start hit the ground running* thoughts. Sometimes then we hit the ground running, and crash and burn. Or we're unrealistic in our expectations so we decide not to even try. Or we just take it all much too seriously.

I'm better today. Honestly.
It's January 2nd!!
Not the 1st.
I've moved past it.

Maybe there are some other things we can say, though, in the new year, like--you know I'm just NOT gonna try so hard! I mean, I'm here! I'm gonna make-do. And things will fall where they fall.

It's not about giving up. It's just about sitting where we are and taking it in and going with it. And yes, I am well aware there are things we should NOT just make-do with. Get rid of those things people! I have to learn that too.
And/or make-do with the fact that sometimes that's really hard, learning that.

We live in a smallish space, especially by some North American standards. But we make-do just fine! The kids all 3 (4 tonight! I helped a friend and hosted a little sleepover! We all make-do!), well they all 3 share a room.
I believe personal space is also important. Hence the craziness on T's bed. H's not (supposed) to go up there. No one can mess with that stuff. So, in this little bit of time before she goes to sleep, T doesn't *just* make-do, she makes the MOST of it.

Now, there we go for inspiration!
Beyond make-do, make the MOST of it in the new year!

...Ahhh yes, there will be times when we really Just Can't. I know.

But we can ALWAYS make-do.

I like January 2nd. I've been plunked back down to reality and routine.

2018: I'm gonna make-do, and I'm gonna make the most of it :)

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How To __________

I've always been kind of a make-do cook. (Surprised?) Resourceful.
It can taste pretty alright, but maybe a bit soggy, overdone, or burnt. (Appetizing?!)

The last year I got even moreso that way. At dinner it's just me eating, and picky kids! Yeah, I've had a hand in their pickiness. Catering to it a bit too much. And this last year I went more the pasta/quesadilla/pizza/frozen foods/pbj route. Add fresh fruits and veggies, of course. But pretty plain and boring. I figured, what's the point? I'm the only one who'd actually enjoy anything else?

But...my son! He's got this window of more adventurous eating in him. Time to seize it! Tonight he even helped me with this tempeh stir fry. (No, he didn't eat much of it, but he kept telling the girls, "I maked it!")

Unlike H, who's always on the go, it's been a few days since I last exercised, had that regular hit of endorphins that helps keep me sane. I've been sick! Oh but tonight I was FEELING it! I can always tell when to slow down, take a break...and then all of the sudden it creeps up on me and I can't WAIT to get on my bike or go for my run! I'm always grateful to my parents for role modelling that for me. Part of it is surely just my temperament, but a big part is those healthy habits I saw growing up. I start to feel like I'm just gonna burst if I don't get that energy out soon!

A bit of my reasoning for maybe trying harder in the cooking department now is for the role modelling. And yes, I also realize I should treat myself! Make something yummy! MAYBE just maybe someone else will eat some of it (?)! If not, they'll have the uncooked part for sure. And some milk and fruit. And I'll have leftovers the next day. What's so bad about all that? The effort, the creativity, the smell, the satisfaction, the variety it provides...using my cookbooks and meal planning again...well those are all things I want to role model. They might not appreciate it now, ("Ugh! Mama what's that smell?!"--T, while H and I were cooking), but someday they will.

Think about all the little ways your parents, and teachers, and other adults, taught you--directly or indirectly. They taught How To Be in the world. We're learning that all the time, but a lot of it gets cemented when we're growing up. For better or worse!

Even love. We learn what it means to love, what it looks like, what it feels like, what it sounds like. All those early growing up experiences. Sometimes it's easy to say and think, "Well, kids just know what they know. If they grow up a certain way, well they don't know any different" (so the implication is...what's the harm?...)
Yeah, some truth. We make-do. My kids don't know what it's like to have their own room, for example, like I did. That's probably no big deal. But we all know people out there who's ideas for things...not just about cooking, or exercising, or bedrooms...but bigger things, like How To Love...are kind of messed up? Kind of unhealthy? Kind of warped?

None of us are perfect, though. But you know what I'm saying. And I was thinking about that How To Love idea when I put H to bed the other night. It just really popped into my head, and helped me make some sense of some things. What an honour and a responsibility we adults have in regards to children!

And, just like changing an eating habit or an exercise habit takes a LOT of effort if it's pretty brand new to us, so does something like knowing How To Love.

Thankfully we can all do it, we've all made-do with what we've been given, and there's always room to grow, to improve, to love better.

Just like my cooking. It might still turn out soggy, overdone, or burnt sometimes. But there's still some sustenance there, at its core.

And my goodness, people, I wish I could've shared with you! It was tasty. The kids watched me enjoy it. And ate their raw veggies, bread and fruit. It happened during that window that's still really open for H, and a tiny bit for the girls.
But either way, I surely taught them a little something tonight that wasn't all bad.

And...I'm pleasantly full and looking forward to a fantastic bike ride to work in the morning.

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Pieces of Pictures/Pieces and Pictures

If I was out singing tonight I'd probably drama-it-up with "Memories", from Cats. I've never been interested in seeing that show, but the song (which I've yet to do!) often pushes its way into my head. It's funny in its over the top-ness, but also so good. I'd put my hand on my forehead for that whole, "Touch me! It's so easy to leave me! All alone in the memory..."

Can't you just picture it?! Ha. HA.

Well I have this children's book here. It's the ever popular (like Cats), "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" Wow that Eric Carle must've made some money off that whole enterprise. This copy has been well used, well loved, worn out. My son is super into it these days.

It's been so well used and loved and worn out that it's now broken in half. And H, in his not-yet-four mind, seems to think it's now TWO BOOKS. I tried to gently explain, several times, that's it's just broken. It's the same book. But no, he doesn't buy it. It's two Brown Bears.

Last night he wanted me to read Both Of Them. The weird thing is, though, that I can't simply put one down, read it, then read the other one (each a half of the story...are you following me?!)...I have to physically hold the two halves together and read the whole thing from start to finish. Then last night afterwards he says to me, "Now read the other one. The other Brown Bear."
"Ummm, ok."
So I do it again.
Read the whole story. Then he looks a little confused and says, "But that's the same story!"
Yeah H----. It is. Isn't that what you wanted?

Are you all confused reading this? Cause I'm nearly there. Confused by my own explanation of the beautifully typical young child's thinking!

Sometimes my ideas for this writing here pop in my head forcefully. Like that "Memories" song likes to do. On my bike, out walking, when my kids say something...but tonight the inspiration came more slowly. The ideas approached me more gradually. I had to be patient and let them come when they were ready. So then, soon enough, I was reading this Brown Bear situation to my son, and realizing how just like his family this book is. Broken in half, but maybe still the same book? All part of the same story. It's hard to make it two separate things?
This Brown Bear situation also reminds me of people. How people are. Especially when people change. It's sometimes easy to see them as a book that's been ripped in half! Like this one. Well used. Maybe a bit too much so.

It'd take a real lot of super strong tape, and some effort, to put this back together. And maybe H would like that? Or maybe he kinda likes the two separate "stories" that actually fit right together anyway? ...Like a person. Sometimes we people get so broken in half, or we see others get so broken in half, we just want to fit the two pieces back together again! Fix the book! Make it whole again! But...it's still the same book, I guess. We can still read it and enjoy it.

Maybe it leaves us a little more confused.

Maybe it leaves us thinking about the memories and all that. 

But the story is still there to treasure.

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"The World is Chaos, Just Be Kind"

Sometimes don't you just get so tired of trying to make sense of things?

We have this human tendency to do that, find the lesson, find the silver lining. I guess it's supposed to be helpful.

But sometimes I get really, really tired of it. Sometimes it just feels like there's No Sense. It's all just chaos!

Who's that comedian who says that? Something like: "The world is chaos. Just be kind." Comedians usually know where it's at.

It's a good thing I know of some karaoke tonight. And I even have a friend who'll come with me.
My soul needs it!
And ballet class tomorrow.
That'll all be so much Just The Thing.

The thing is, there's just so much chaos out there...

But I'll be fine.
I don't have to make sense of it.
Just try to keep centered while the chaos swims around my
soft-bruised-open,
singin' and dancin'
little heart.

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Journey

"This weekend at karaoke...", that's how most of my best stories start these days.

So, this weekend at karaoke there was this 12 year old there, with his mom. He was super serious and super into it! And people loved him. It was a bar, but also licensed as a restaurant, so he was allowed there till midnight.

After I sang for the first time he high-fived me. We were off to a great start! Later he approached me to see if I'd do a duet with him. What an honour...seriously, people, he did NOT ask anyone else! So of course! A duet?!!
Those are my favourite.

Finding a steady karaoke duet person...now THAT is a dream I have, among many. But sometimes that whole journey seems like a minefield(!!!).....or, to put it more prettily, it feels like this song here--like "trying to catch the wind".

Same with so many things in life, the dreams people have, they can feel like trying to catch the wind!
I think too, on this MLK holiday in the states, a lot of people are discouraged. The dreams sometimes seem squashed or pretty much dead. It's easy to feel cynical, or to say, "I'm not cynical, I'm just paying attention!" I know the feeling. We all do.

Anyway, so back to the karaoke duet...
I followed this 12 year old's lead--and what he wanted to sing was Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'".
Um, NOT my favourite!
But! Who was I to squash this 12 year old's fiery passion?
As you can probably guess from my posts I tend toward more melancholy or angsty tunes. I mean, I'm not cynical, I'm just paying attention!!!
But!
But hey--it was a duet!
So we blasted it.

There's more to this karaoke story, and I may be a vulnerable and gutsy Facebook poster, but I'll leave the story on a high note. A Journey high note. Sometimes when it feels like the universe or whatever is telling you otherwise, when the same stupid things keep happening over and over, when all the news seems awful and people seem reckless and terrible...that Journey song could be just the thing to blast.
By yourself is fine...there's strength in that...but more voices together brings out some different magic.

And then you know what we've gotta do?! We've gotta try to hold on to that feeling, right? RIGHT?

Because anyway, if no one believes anymore, if no one tries to "catch the wind", the cynicism will have won...

I write these words for myself, it helps me, but also for anyone else needing a little extra umph on this little journey we're all taking, striving for those high notes ❤️

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Episode 6 Million

Me, I Date People Now:
Episode 6 Million

After a dating-related-texting conversation, wherein I wrote a lot, (about what? I won't share THAT part, fb!)--the person on the other end gave me a bit of a hard time, said, "You should be a writer :) "
Ok.
"I'm trying!" I replied. "And I get lots of my best practicing through texting people long messages!"
The person said, "I just got out of a kickboxing class" (umm *maybe* implying... "Sorry I'm just now getting back to you", but why communicate clearly when you're just dating?!)
"I need a kick boxing class!" I wrote back.
Then the person said:
"You need a therapist :) "

Compliment?!
Indication that the person thinks I'm crazy? Indication that The Person is actually crazy? Or just that the person is a total jerk?

Well you can bet I had some quick retorts! I mean what did this person expect?! After all, he'd just told me I should be a writer.

"Ummm I'm gonna TRY and not be offended by that!"
"Also, why do you think I go to karaoke all the time?"
"Also, the constant physical activity?"
"Also, the writing?"
"Also...I have a therapist. Went yesterday!"
"And...maybe YOU need a therapist!"

There's something else I could've said, but I didn't think of it till later (of course!)
And, it's not appropriate for fb :)

That little interaction got me thinking alllllll KINDS of stuff. Big surprise!

BUT...one thing is, as someone echoed to me today after I relayed this story: don't we ALL need therapy?
I mean this person who'd said that funny?/rude? thing to me, this person needs therapy. Ha!

More than all that, it made me realize we all At Least need an outlet.
I'd listed a few of mine for his person--I have many. And I feel lucky in that.
("How about this person?" you wonder...well, the kickboxing?! The funny-borderline rude remarks to someone he barely knows?!)

There are some people and some phases in life where the outlets are hard to come by. We don't have the resources--literally! Or mentally! Or emotionally! We don't have the time. We don't know how to make the time.
But the outlets are vital.

Maybe not everyone needs a therapist ;)
I might be the type oozing just the right amount of insanity to make me an obvious candidate for that, though.
(???? the question marks abound!)

But...everyone needs an outlet.

What's yours?
Art? Baking? Nature? Sports? Music? Painting? Building? Cooking?
...there are lots of options...

And woo!
All this Writing.
I feel a tiny bit better now.

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Epilogue

I don't date people anymore :-)

For one thing.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!