The poem below describes my discovery under the light of the full moon.
During guided meditation I realized I was not alone.
The Healing can continue with a new companion.
Yesterday was my birthday.
It was ‘my’ day.
A day to celebrate me.
Simply put, a day to honor the life I created.
As a good friend said to me, “
It was a day to proclaim, this is my year. It all starts from here!
But it is more then that.
It is a day to celebrate my mama.
My birth transformed a beautiful young woman into a radiant and strong mama.
My birth allowed a young woman to begin her journey.
November 26th 1985 was a day in which she became a ‘mama’.
I am her first child.
Her first baby.
One of her baby girls.
I take after her.
All that she loves and all that she wishes was different about herself are in me.
We have a bond, the intense and overpower bond of mother and daughter.
Something so primal and lovely.
A connection that cannot be broken.
Twenty seven years ago, she was learning how to walk in the shoes of a mother with me in her arms.
My birth was a catalyst to her life progession. To become the woman she was meant to be.
She was slowly moving away from that young woman she was and grow into the beauty of her motherhood.
Oh, how blessed I am to have grown with her.
My mother is incredible.
Simply amazing, she has over filled her shoes with motherhood.
In the face of hardship and battles, she triumphed. She stood strong as warrior mama.
She is the definition of what I want to be 27 years.
How I feel for her is what I want to experience from my own daughters.
My birthday is not about me.
It is about her and what she has allowed me to become.
Her incredible exsistence and growth has made me become the woman and mother that I am.
“The older I get, the more I see the power of that young woman, my mother.”
|My sister and me. Prior to the birth of ‘mama’. Somedays she seems lost, but I know that beautiful woman is still within me.|
Last night was a tough one.
I felt done!
Exhausted, wrote off and completely drained of all ‘nice’ qualities that I can posses.
I was an impatient and grumpy shell of my former self.
It all went sideways at dinnertime.
The kids and I had gone for a walk. We arrived back at the ‘humble abode’ at 5:00 pm. It was a beautiful walk.
It was a gorgeous afternoon, just my little ones and I. I felt so free and happy on our fun little adventure across town.
Then I walked into my warm and cozy kitchen. I realized how tired I was. I was so tired.
I was also on my own. Court had gone to the gym.
These kids needed to be fed, bathed and put to bed. It took all my energy just to get my Ugg boots off. The task at hand seemed daunting and only put me in a worse mood.
How was I suppose to rummage up a suitable meal?
Could I throw a bag of Cheetos at them and call it a night?
And why was it when that frosty and fun walk that made me feel so tired, only lit the torch under the asses of my children?
Canty napped on our walk and was ready and raring to go once we were home, and Chloe and Charlotte appeared like they had eaten a bag of sugar, each.
So much energy!
So little left in me.
I turned on my favourite tool of distraction, the television.
I plunked three little kids in front of ‘Little Einsteins’ and waddled slowly to the kitchen to prepare the best meal of my life….
Cream Cheese and Ham wraps with cucumbers.
In my ‘mom book’, I was feeling guilty for copping out of dinner, making such a simple supper. But to my girls it was the best dinner ever. They weren’t be forced to eat their veggies (Cucumbers are the only veggie they eat willingly.) And they love wraps.
You would think that the fact that they were happy with my dinner would put me in a great place, but it only lead my exhausted mind to think the ‘bad things’ like..
Why the heck do I try and make good wholesome food when all you want to eat is wraps?
I knew after that moment that I was going to be naturally drawn into frustration and self pity. That was were the night was going, and I was too tired to stop it.
The freight train of self destruction was barreling over me and it was too much for my self worth to push the brakes.
Bath time had the same flow to it as dinner did.
A frustrated and tired mama with three kids who were full of beans.
I did not see the joy in splashing water everywhere, I just saw a mess.
I didn’t hear the fun in their sequels, I just heard to much noise.
And I hate to admit this one but I didn’t even see the joy in my favorite bedtime routine, the post bath massage. I just saw it as something else I had to do.
I was in bad place last night. It was rough. I knew it, my husband sensed it and my kids felt it.
I finally got everything aligned for going to bed. Canty was asleep, the twins were tucked in and I was feeling awful. I was mean and grumpy. My poor kids were taking the brunt of my frustration. They seemed like they knew they were walking on egg shells.
I knew I had to do something to make this better, for me and for them. I decided to climb into bed with Chloe and Charlotte.
We had some good cuddles and some kisses. I smelt the sweet fragrance of lavender on my girls. I felt the warmth of their little bodies as the three of us curled up in their princess bed. Chloe’s tiny little hand stroked my hair and I knew that is was OK. They loved me, scars and all.
I apologized for being ‘mean mama’ and we were still in the simple moment of acceptance and love.
I felt better and I hoped they did too.
I realized that not every moment in parenthood has to be poetic and amazing.
It is OK that I most encounters with my children are not resloved in ways you would see in a ‘how to parent properly’ book.
It can be messy.
There are awful moments.
Moments that you wish you could rewind.
Moments in which I think that I am such an awful mama’s for letting the walls down and the whole world (including my kids) see all the s**t that I have bottled up.
But this is human nature.
No one is perfect.
And though I was a less then perfect mama last night, I feel better today.
The morning bring new light in the form of a fresh perspective and a good nights sleep.
This weekend has been full epiphanies.
It has been full of moments in which I was taught lessons, shown patience and trust and been told to remember my faith.
First came the moment of patience and trust that it will all work out.
Trust the universe (and my husband 🙂
I work Saturdays at an awesome store in downtown Almonte called “Soul Scents“, I started working there about 6 weeks ago. I needed to find an outlet to feel ‘adult’, simply Jessica, not ‘mama jess’.
The beautiful woman who runs the store, hired me, very easily as if fate meant for me to work there. It truly was meant to be and I love love love working there. Not only for the time to recharge ‘me’ but because the space has an amazing energy. I learn new and amazing stuff each week and adore how much it is expanding my world.
Last week we had a ‘situation’ at home while I was working. Canty would not take his bottle, he cried for hours. My patient and loving husband was at his end. Canty doesn’t take a bottle well, but it was terrible last week. I can only imagine what it was like in my house last Saturday. A screaming baby for hours and two toddlers running around. I am surprised he withstood it for as long as he did.
I was distraught in finding out how badly Canty fought being fed. Thoughts of having to stop working Saturdays were creeping into my mind. I was heartbroken. Court kept telling me that it would get better, he could handle it and I would be able to keep working at the store, but I was so worried. My mama instinct told me not to leave my little boy, but my desire and need to be ‘me’ told me to keep going.
I did not ‘quit’ or stop working Saturdays and went to my usual shift this week. I was being optimistic when I left, and even organized back up. I got my lovely grandmother to come by around lunch time to watch the twins while Court brought the baby up to the store to nurse for a few minutes.
Around lunch time I got a text. It was from Court, it read ” not coming up. he had a great nap and is drinking his bottle. see you later. ” I was over the moon with joy. My baby is OK without me. He did well. I was so happy!
I trusted the universe and my husbands awesome ‘daddy’ skills and it all worked out.
The next lesson/epiphany I had this weekend came from my grandmother.
It was a lesson in being grateful, worrying less, and to have faith.
My girls had their first sleepover at their great grandmas house.
I was so worried. I was afraid my intensely passionate and active girls would break my grandma.
We got the girls ready and the anxious feelings stayed. I was worried, nervous for all three of them.
We got in the car and drove to grandmas.
It was then I got to see the most beautiful thing.
Three people who had joy, happiness and excitement radiating from them.
My grandmother was so excited for my girls. She was actually waiting by the door when we arrived in the driveway.
Chloe and Charlotte couldn’t move fast enough to their grandmother.
They were all so happy.
They were so thrilled to be in the presence of one another.
It made me remember all the lovely nights I spent at my grandmothers.
The late night movies in her living room. I would lie on the floor while grandma sat in her chair and grandpa lay in the couch. We would stay up way past my bedtime feeling so tired and exhilarated in the same moment. I would fight the sandman just to have a few more moments in that living room with my beloved grandparents.
The smell homemade bread that wafted in each corner of the house. The delicious aroma of baking bread still brings me back to being 10 years old and eating peanut butter toast in the dim light of the oven lamp with my grandma.
The excitement of being in the presence of someone who seemed to have been everywhere and see everything. My grandma had skills in so many different areas and her knowledge astounded me.
I loved going to my grandmas house overnight and it was incredible to see that feeling mirrored in my own children.
I realized how blessed I was that my grandmother is still here and available to love and nurture my kids as she did for me.
The last lesson I am aware of is a lesson in acceptance.
With the girls lovely night spent at grandmas and Court in the city for the night, Canton and I were left to our own devices.
We spent a 12 hours together, just the two of us.
He, in his usual way, woke up at 5:00 am, ready to conquer the day.
We went downstairs. I had coffee and woke up and he layed on the floor beside me watching baby Einstein. We passed some great mommy and babe time, till he got tired.
The first nap of the day for Canton is usually rushed and independant. The twins are usually up and needing food and fresh clothes by this time so Canty-boy is left to he own devices in the swing with his favorite blankie and soother to fall asleep. Today was different. I had no where else to be and nothing else to do so I cradled my little man to sleep listening to the rain and basking in the twilight of the morning glow.
The magic of the moment led me to really meditate inwards. To really think about this moment.
I had him in my arms, pressed up against my belly while I stroked his tiny face.
I realized in that moment to have acceptance.
I acepected my soft, pillow belly. The belly that expended and held my three babies. I let go of my hate for its less then flat appearance and accepted it. It is used a soft pillow for my kids. A place for them to feel comfortable and loved. A place in which my infant son can gently fall into sweet dreams.
I let of of my angered feeling about my hands. Mangled by eczema, they hurt and look so aged and chapped. They usually cause me alot of pain and feelings of self conscious because of their appearance. I accepted them for what they are. They may not be perfect but they are the tool that allows me to stroke my sons face while he drifts off. To feel his soft skin as he melts his little body into mine. I accepted them because he sees nothing wrong with my mangled hands, he only feels the love emanating from them.
This weekend has filled me with so much joy in my new acceptance and lessons. It has been lovely!
Tell about it.”
|Somebody reminded me of this picture, how I love its poetic appearance.|
I am going to be honest, we have had a tough go with money since the kids were born.
Choosing to stay home with my beauties is the best choice I have made but it can really tighten us financially.
Most days I can see clearly, knowing that it will all work out. Knowing that we will emerge unscathed by the stress of money and debt.
I have faith that we are good people and as it may be tight now, someday I will look back and not see the ‘money’ struggle but I will see the happiness we cultivated in our home.
I won’t see the tiny rental home we have to have because it is all we can afford. I will see a home, full of fun and love. I will not remember the small living room and outdated decor, I will see my kids doing yoga on the floor with me and laughing together at ‘dinosaur’ pose.
I won’t see all the missed opportunities due to ‘not having money’ but will see all the awesome stuff we did together. All the adventurous trips to the park, swims in the pool, people we have visited and all the exciting walks we have taken.
On most days I see the good stuff, I know there is quite a bit of good stuff.
But there are still dark days.The days in which I get caught up in what we don’t have, what I think we need and the stress of it all overwhelms me.
When the dark days hit, I go a little crazy.
Worried, stressed and full of anxiety.
It can be too much to handle sometimes, and I lose my mind a little.
Unfortunately we are the starting stretch to the most expensive time of year, and these dark days of financial worry creep up onto my back and plant their dense weight on my shoulders once again.
Not only do we have Christmas, but there always seems to be more bills around this time of year. It can be a little much.
In the last few days I have felt the spiral. Downwards I seem to be going, heading towards the dark abyss of finacial worry….
But something has stopped this trip.
Something has made me rethink.
I started reading a awesome blog called “Momestry” and each year the have a charity program they do called “Holiday hands”.
Woman all over post their stories of need and stress and as a community you can search and help out as you can.
It is amazing. And what it has shown me is that it is OK to ask for help and also it is showing me that I am blessed. Truly blessed.
So many people are in true need of help and I am blessed to have so much good in my life. I may not have lots of money, but I have alot of substance in my life.
Thank you holiday hands for pulling me out of my dark abyss.
and please, check out the website if you can.The giving and support is incredible!
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run their fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed. Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself and the other for helping others.”
|See you later dark day of crazy! money can’t buy this much fun!|
We change. We morph. We grow.
Every day, every hour, every minute. Our life and our souls are being molded and sculpted to our world around us.
We are like the shoreline as the tide rolls in.The water representing life and the shore representing our being. The water rolls in and out. Dancing on top of us. Changing the shore with its intentions. The mold able ground below morphs to accept the dense body of water as it gently pushes it to surrender. It takes new shapes, molds to the force and takes on new debris. Each day it changes. Some changes are only temporary, but some stay permanent. Our core beliefs stay the same, as the geographical sense of the shoreline will stay the same, but the appearance and outer layer will look different on many occasions.
Just as in our own life, the events and movement of the world changes us. These lasting changes make us the unique individual that we are and are always becoming.
I accept that people are always changing. I am always changing. I am not the same person I was even last year. But what I find hard to comprehend is how relationships are suppose to withstand this constant flow of change.
Relationships all begin with our connections. We connect with people. We have connecting lives and similar interest. We love people for what they bring to our own lives. We are then connected and intertwined in each other. These relationships are essential for happiness and our well being. We desire to feel connected to others on all levels, emotionally, physically, intellectually and spiritually.
We find the right fit for us and stick with it. Cling hard what it feels like and its simplicity once it is figured out. But how soon we forget that all things will change as do the dynamics of our relationships. We will change as people and people change with us.
When we change, do we naturally flow together creating a peaceful currant through the in’s and out’s of life? or do our changes clash with each other creating a tsunami of emotions and frustrations.
If the changes in our lives are like and cold front meeting a warm front, we will inevitably create a nasty storm. We soon become our worst enemies. with the storm brewing, our inner dialogue breaks us down and creates resentment.
‘I don’t like this.’
‘I want it like it used to be!’
‘Go back to the way it was’
Our dialogue suppresses us. It makes it hard to feel free to be the people we want to be and let the people we love become who they are supposed to be.
We can’t truly expect things to ‘ever go back to the way it was’. We are not stagnant beings. Our life force flows. We all have currants, some stronger then others, making our personalities and life choices change a regular basis.
Stop and think,
Do I expect people to stay the same?
Do I expect my children to stay the same?
Do I expect my relationship dynamics to be perfect and never change?
I know that on a more then a few occasions, I have expected all those to be true. I have looked at change with anger, frustration and resentment. I have acted out in these feelings, pushing and fighting my way through, hoping to bully my way back into ‘the way it was’. I did this when I was unprepared for the changes. When I felt like I had just got it ‘perfect’ and then lost it to the change.
I know the anger was legitimate. Anger is OK, we are allowed to feel it. It is what we do with that anger that is important.
But I will tell you right now, acting out got me nowhere. I only felt more sadness for the outcome. I ended up feeling lost and confused.
I finally broke and realized change is inevitable. Not only for me but for the people in my life.
It is finally time to accept what is necessary.
I am being me. The true and ever changing me. I am letting you be you, the true and ever changing you. And since I love you whole heartedly, we will find a way to flow together through the waves of life, hand and hand.
“It is life, I think, to watch the water. A man can learn so many things.”
-Nicholas Sparks “a walk to remember”
|The flow of water reminds me of the constant change of life.|