Heal the soul, Feed the heart.
I am so sick and tired about blogging how I never blog. I am sick of starting posts with “I’m back” or “so I took an unintentional break.” It’s all the same junk, all the time. I take breaks, they are unintentional. I have mini-meltdowns, I forget about my blog, I get up on the uppity and sail through my life without so much as a thought about my main writing outlet. How dare I ignore myself, because this blog really is just an extension of that? I prevent myself from writing about anything substantial, aside from the fact that when I am gone that is substantial but most definitely not the most substantial moment that has occurred since the last time I wrote. SIGH DOUBLE SIGH.
I am not sure if I have made a promise before, to myself and to my blog. Probably? Kinda feel like I’ve been there done that with every sort of “I VOW TO BLOG ALL THE TIME EVERY TIME” deal, but please don’t judge as I am about to make it again.
Aside from my mini-explanation two days ago, I haven’t blogged in nearly three months. That is an eternity. Imagine something you thoroughly enjoy, now axe it out of your life for three months and imagine the sorrow. My heart is filled with it, and then part of my heart gets mad because I am the only one that can change that and I haven’t done that.
I feel like I am at a very transitional point in my life, and in all honesty, I think I always will be. As human beings, I think we always are, because we always are growing and changing, even if we feel we are pretty stagnant. The last five months have been an incredible adjustment, and they totally still are, and I am still adapting. I think C is too, though seriously, I feel like he is just going with the flow and is mostly loving it. The boy loves daycare. He loves his friends. He loves his daycare provider. That really just tickles me pink, it truly does. Mainly, I am happy he is happy. Daycare is not a choice for us but a necessity, at this point in our lives anyway. If we had a choice, we wouldn’t be utilizing it, or at least not on a full-time basis, I already know this much is true. I am pretty certain I would be much happier, more fulfilled and satisfied, if I was a mama who did not work out of the home or at least not on a full-time basis. It feels awful to write such a sentiment, but it is what I believe. The tricky part of this is, because it is not really an option right now, is navigating it so I still feel thoroughly fulfilled, and that I am providing my family and myself with the very best me possible. That part, I haven’t yet figured out. What I do know, is my boy is growing way fast, and I know that part of what I need to do is to let go of my hangups around what I can’t have, and focus on trying to enjoy what I do have. It’s the quality now, not the quantity. Wise words from some wise women.
Back in January (!!!) I talked about the growth I have been encountering, the changes I have been making, and while they are mostly the same, there’s even more to add to it, and that warms my heart deeply. I’m still on my handmade gift only path, and we’re heading into the middle of April. It’s so fun, so satisfying, and it really nurtures and helps to fulfill my creative soul. I have sewn turtles and flax magic bags, made no-sew fleece blankets, made miniature taggy blankets, along with various other goodies. I am learning skills left right and centre and I absolutely love it. I’ve got to gather up some more tricks for my bag of crafts, because I’m needing a dose of fresh crafty ideas in my life, but for now this is good.
Another huge development in my life is that I registered for the Doula Training course that is offered here. I am beyond thrilled for this new step in my life and I have this feeling, I just know, that this is going to be a good thing. I questioned myself slightly before I registered, mainly because I had to drop a bit of cash in order to take the course, but I know deep, deep down that I am meant to do this. It is my passion through and through, for various reasons. I thought I’d get the birth high, then it would dwindle, but oh no, ohhh noo it’s still there, stronger than ever. I am not obsessed, I am passionate. The gig starts April 26, and is ten weeks long, one night a week. I imagine I will branch out in the blog-world to have a doula biz site up, but that’s for another day.
As of Saturday morning, I have temporarily deactivated my Facebook account. It was a decision that I had to do. The clincher for me, was the struggle I actually had with clicking ‘Deactivate.’ I couldn’t do it, well I mean – I obviously did, but I hummed and ha’ed for quite some time, days, before I went ahead and did it. That experience alone reinforced to me that I was far too addicted to it. It had taken a hold of my life, and gripped it with all of its psychotic Facebook intensity. SO not cool. The whole smart phone phenomenon made it even worse. Honestly? Do I need to check my Facebook ALL the time? Just ‘to check’? Highly unlikely. But even more than that, was the psychopathic tendencies of Facebook, that is, if Facebook was a person. Stalkerish, right? Creepy. And I was a part of the game. I couldn’t let go of certain Friends on my Friends list, because the fun would end. And by fun I mean, the ability for me to poke my head in on their virtual life at any given time. I get that we are in the 21st century and social networking is the way of the future, but when does it become social psychopathic tendencies and not social networking anymore? Hmm. The privacy settings are shady at best, and I just needed a break.. It is not okay when I feel my blood pressure rise, my cheeks become rosy, at the sight of some ridiculous, attention-seeking status update by someone I really don’t even care about. That is not okay. Sure, there are plenty of things I like about Facebook. I like the support that some of the communities provide, the ability to see photographs of family and friends in faraway lands, but for now, for me, there are other ways to have these needs met. And quite honestly, I’d like to spend a little bit more time talking to the people I care about instead of creeping on some jerk-face who I really don’t.
I am no longer seeing the counsellor I mentioned in my second last post. Not because of anything more than we really weren’t getting anywhere that significant. It was alright, and she helped to somewhat shed light on a few issues I was struggling with, but it was not entirely what I needed. In hindsight, I am not even sure I know what I need. We’re at that point, and I know it’s not a great point to be at, but it’s a starting point, and I know I am here, so I’ll roll with it. And it’s nothing against psychologists, but that is not exactly what I am needing right now, I don’t believe. So tomorrow the journey continues, and I will meet with a homeopathic doctor/social worker/counsellor in one. She comes HIGHLY recommended and so I am quite anxious to have this experience. I’ve got a couple of things I want to address, and I am also anticipating that she will guide the session and we will do some exploring.
As for my running shoes, they haven’t been laced up in way too long. March came and went, and that is the hardest month of every year for me. The winters are too long, and the spring lingers. I love the first days of spring, but then let’s get this show on the road. I am tired of cold mornings, and my cold appendages itch for warm skin. The plan is to get out there and get running, again, because last summer when I learned that running was a total outlet for me, was one of the best summers ever, and I need that injection of wholeness, of light, and of endorphins, in my life, on a constant basis. The issue right now is that I am feeling really unable to battle the brisk mornings, and so I’m anxiously awaiting the warm ones. In time?
And without turning to ‘external’ sources of healing, I am mostly feeling very blessed, very privileged, to have this here family that I do. My son provides me with an insane amount of beauty, life, and love, and I don’t even know how to say it properly. He basically just blows my mind, over, and over, and over again. Every little word he says, every thing he does. He is the most beautiful soul, the most beautiful creature, the most beautiful beauty. Yeesh. so.much.love. And thee baby-daddy, well aye, I get hung up on things, on complains, on this and that, but gosh darn, I am lucky. Who ever thought I would be living in my small-but-its-cozy house, with a 17 month old, a 3 year old poochy, and a partner? I am not sure I ever did, but oh boy, am I sure glad I do.
Happy Monday, friends, dream sweetly & sleep tightly.
Entry filed under: A Home at the End of the World, Love, Mamabear, Women's Health. Tags: cade, creativity, exercise, family, life, love, mental health, motherhood, parenthood, reflecting, relationships, running, saskatoon, seasonal, self-reflections.