Note

I want to learn cribbage. 

Words I like

From Carter Beats the Devil:

“I mean,” he rallied, “ there’s joy and wonderment to be had.  I love to perform.   It fights back the loneliness.  It’s all I really know how to do anymore.”

“I see,” she said.  There was no reason she should understand him.  He had in his way cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted across a canyon, hoping she’d heard.

AND LATER...

Borax shook his head.  “You can’t really save people.”

Borax, of all people, saying this?  Carter felt like a curtain had, unfortunately, been drawn back for him.  “You have to try,” he responded, but without much force.

I'm feelin' it.

Adventure

My exciting Friday night: couch,  cast,  nursing, and a glass of water.  Don't be too jealous.

Shatter, Crack

 

Yesterday in the car, Chris drove home and I sat mainly in silence.

In my head, images of glacial calving

 

played one after another.

Low rumbles and icy majesty

Cracking and tumbling into the sea,

The unstoppable awe,

ice floe and schism.

 

Over and over the images came.

Sharp crack, deepening

Whole earths splitting apart

 

The sinking into frigid waters--

 

And then the icy reemergence,

Inexplicable masses

heaving out of ocean depths.

 

And deadly ice quietly rushing

from the glacier’s hard face

to the people watching.

To melt. To puncture. To dissolve.

 

 

 

Longing

I wish I could make a guitar sing.
I wish I could think in melody.
I can't, but I do so love people who can. 

Genes

I love discovering
stuff like this

Also I had an idea for a manuscript to submit to a professional journal. My professional mind had been on fire this week. Kinda feels alright.

Skipping Along

Happy winter. 
Soon Jonah's birthday will be here. 
I remember waiting with love,  fear, and anticipation.
You never forget births and it makes me think of winter and about how smells make you revisit memories.
Then all around you,  even the wind holds specific time.
Moments suspended.
You reach up, grab them out of the air.

More later. 

Damn Yeah!

I just submitted my first ever proposal to a national conference. Feeling pretty good.  Boo yeah. 

4:44 is still following me. 

Streetlights blink on and off when I pass. 
The quest to deliberately spend more time being one of the least knowledgeable people in the room continues.

Wish I could go to Creative Mornings.  After only two visits I wad starting to feel like pay off the community.  Hopefully next month.  

Update From the Trenches

How, exactly, does one adjust from the joys of being home with one's kids to going to work to the exasperating task of teaching other people's kids basic research skills and MLA format?  It's not easy.

Part of what makes it so not easy is that I like doing what I do well.  And right now, and probably for the rest of the school year, I will be neither mothering nor teaching to the best (or even close) of my ability.  It's hard when I genuinely like both jobs (momming more,  of course) and when I have so many ideas, when both jobs go so much more smoothly when one has the time and resources to put systems into place to allow for maximum freedom, time to play, ease....

So right now it's all just pretty uncomfortable.  Uncomfortable mixed with profound joy, getting in touch with myself, collaboration, sunlight, baby drool.  I'm listing again.  List-style-writing is so weak.  And I do it all the time.

My natural inclination is to push for things to change.  For me to change.  For something to change.  But today I remembered, again, because I forget every two days, that this is an Infant Year.  Which means I will be sleep deprived and in survival mode and frustrated by the way that I don't have the resources to give what little creativity eeks through the cracks of my bloodshot eyeballs the time of day.  Frustrated by the scrambling and the scarcity of calm moments.

But the Infant Years don't last forever.  Unless  you're crazy like me.  My career:

Normal yearrrrghitbycar
Normal year
Change Jobs and Cities, start fresh, Normalish year
Preggo Year
Infant Year
Normal Yealamost year but then Preggo
Preggo year, half year off
Infant year turned normal
Preggo Year
Infant Year
Normawshit Preggo again
Infant Year.

That's my career.  Never more than a year without some big life thing that impacted my sleep/health/wellbeing so much that it affected my work.  Add emotional and relationship turmoil to the mix and ... damn.  I hope the second half of my career is a little more steady.  It has to be, right?  I the mean time, you'd think I'd have had enough practice to get through this, but there's always more complication.

All that to say that today C made dinner and I sat in the big chair nursing Moe, teaching Em to read, and loving on the other two who were climbing on my legs.  And to be covered in four babes when you come home from work... well, it's exhausting and doesn't make sense that it's possible, but it's good.  And in those moments I can feel that I was built for this much love and my heart is comfortable this full.

New Year, Crossing Out, Carrying Over

New Year's is such a funny holiday.  I used to value the excuse to go out or have a party but now I like a day where most stores are closed and there's no expectation to get things done so that I can reflect and let the learning from the previous year sink in.

On the way home from yoga this morning, I was thinking about how each day that it isn't frigid (though the last two days have approached that point) means more time with green grass and bones that don't ache quite so hard.  The absence of cold now doesn't prolong the cold at the end when spring is trying to emerge.  I forget that sometimes.  I forget that when the cold doesn't set in, it can mean less cold overall, not just more cold later.  There's a metaphor for a worldview in that somewhere, friends.

So then I got out of the car and noticed the snap dragons, who have been struggling with themselves for the past six weeks or so ("Do we give in to the frost and go limp?  No guys, we got this!  Can we squeeze out one last round of blooms?"  "Maybe!"  "Yes!" one lone branch cries, and so on...)  Today they looked like they were just about to succumb to the cold, and because their leaves were drooping and glossy, I was able to see the last branch of blooming salvia creeping up behind them.  What tenacity these plants have.  No one can tell them they aren't hardy enough or that they should have stopped growing at first hard frost.  That's been me a lot in the last year, feeling like I've hit my limits with what I can bear, how much patience I can show, I how much I can give, how many reminders I can make, how much forgiveness, how little sleep.  And even when all of me, the mindspiritbody, feels crushed, I find that I have more.  It can only be God.  I do, however, hope that the next year involves much less testing of limits and much more residing comfortably within them.  At least for a while.  Or at least if I got to choose the limits that were tested (capacity for my new chocolate chip cookie recipe perhaps?)

This salvia can't stop, won't stop.

Another fun part of New Year's Day:  the calendar swap.  No fancy calendar this year, just a freebie from the Nature Conservatory or something but starting with so much open.  Transferring the already-made appointments into January and February.  It's almost as if the old calendar feels heavier from the weight of all that this year held.  More doctor's appointments than I've had in a year, more marriage counseling, more scans of my insides, more school events, soccer games for the first time ever (I became a soccer mom this year!  Bumper sticker and all!), STAR WARS in all capital letters, appointments to look at new houses, dinners with friends and regular weekly things that were inked in, disappeared for a sad while, and returned again. Nothing really tells the story of a year quite like a calendar.  It's the unvarnished, day to day truth of your life.  I wish we could see more calendar representations on social media, honestly.  That's what I'm most curious about.  Save the curated truth for something else and show us the real mess of the day to day.  Maybe that's a resolution I could make.  It's always what I aim for at least.

I have changed a lot in the last year, I think, and a lot of those changes were those kind that come because I was thrust into situations and had to walk through the fire.  Many of those fires I'd prefer to have avoided altogether or learned these lessons in an easier way.  I'm grateful because I didn't realize how much I needed to learn.  I thought I was doing pretty well.  So I started to stand up for myself a little more, and I am becoming more mature.  I recognized the ugly truth that I tend to default to blame when I am upset, stressed, or uncomfortable.  And even if some of that blame is justified or true, that doesn't make it less ugly.  I have been humbled in hard ways.  But that was good for me.  And I think that being brought low will ultimately make me more compassionate, forgiving, and aware of my own shortcomings/mistakes/sins/selfishness all that ugly-but-real stuff.  It's hard for me to understand how, but seeing my own ugly more clearly and seeing the ramifications of it more clearly is comforting somehow.  I feel like I actually love myself more now than I did a year ago.  It's probably a combination of things:  being more compassionate toward myself and how, as with any relationship, knowing myself better allows for a deeper and more loving relationship.  And I am more in touch with what I need.  Even if I'm not getting it.  Hey, what's life if there's not room for improvement?   I guess... but man, wouldn't it be so freaking fantastic to get to the point that the places that need improvement are just the fun places?  Damn.  I hope so, someday.

Other core beliefs have changed too.  I don't think I'm becoming a different person, but a more real version of who I have always been.  That feels good and ever gooder.  And yes, "gooder" is still a word.  What changes?

• I now appreciate the west side of Cleveland so much that I'm considering moving there.  It's still rather flat for my taste, and the closer I am to the foothills of the mountains, the more tucked into the earth and safe I feel.  But the places of the west side we've been considering are closer to the lake and my soul just steers me toward water like I'm one giant 5'2" divining rod.
• Dishwasher.  Must have dishwasher.  The volume of dishes in this family has carried us over the threshold from pleasant, meditative task to never ending cycle of work.  And the realization that I'd cook more often and more creatively if I could get a handle on prep dishes is a big factor in this turning point.
• I'm breaking up with people pleasing and it's close friend image cultivation.  It's understandable to want people to see the best version of you that exists, kind of like taking that compilation ACT score that gives you the highest cumulative.  But it's at first scary and ultimately way more comforting when people know how much you suck.  What makes it great is that it allows them the opportunity to love you anyway.  Or to judge you and reject you.  And either way, you know the kind of person you are dealing with.  And while the judgement and rejection can hurt, you're left with security in the end.  I must have had this underlying belief I wasn't aware of that I could manage what people thought and hold it together, seem polished-ish, be well liked and that would be better or safer or something.  I didn't even realize I operated this way until I began to shed it and experience the freedom of it.  
• I've changed as a mother and become more patient, loving, and balanced.  It's about damn time *ahem* four kids later *cough cough*  On Sunday, my grandma was asking me about how it was going with four kids and the words that tumbled out were that it was more difficult but better.  And it is.  And as far as my kids and my relationships with them goes, all I could ask for is more time with them and fewer responsibilities that draw my attention from them, in part so I could focus on them more and in part so that when I don't have to focus on them, I can be free do focus on the other things I love and developing myself more.
• My relationship with God and scripture has changed a ton and all for the better.  It's been really beautiful and something I'm hoping to explore in this space more in the year ahead.  But it's been a huge change to me and I can't be more happy for it. 
• Finally, the last big change is that I noticed how much of a hater I could be sometimes, just for the sake of hating on something.  There's entertainment value in being contrary, I guess.  But that's just simply lame and smug and jerky.  So, starting with the west side, I tried to stop being a hater.  It's going well, considering snark is my native tongue and there are so many things to hate on in this world.  Like dog sweaters.  I jest.  They're fine.  Ish.  Okay I'm still working on the hater thing.

Looking ahead, I will write more here.  2015 has more blog posts drafted but never finished or posted than any other year ever.  What a sad thing!  All those words suspended in cyberspace...  I stop writing for lots of reasons and in no small part because there is so much to do and so many kids.  But writing is part of my song and my light.  Pouring it out adds breath to it.  And I'm going to let my spirit breathe a little more for my own sake.  Writing aside, I need 2016 to be a better year for me and for my family.  That's my hope and my prayer, whatever form "better" takes, it's what we need.   I have stopped pretending I know exactly what "better" looks like, but I think I'll recognize it when I feel it.  Can't wait.

Looking ahead a little more immediately, new Sherlock tonight.  Hominahominahominahheyyyyyyy.  

Happy New Year!

What's new with you?