Recovering

   Perhaps all the low energy flowing flowing out of my virtual pen finally caught up with me. While desperately trying to mend my children's woes this week, I must have forgot my own. I opened the door and in swooped illness to knock me off my feet and away from a looked forward to weekend with a friend.  I will live, but not get much needed hugs. Ah well. I rested and was taken care of by my children and reminded to lie still and watch the world go by. I leave this brief this evening. Good night

Positive? hugs

   How do you manage to stay positive? I visit beautiful places like GardenMama and see a steadfast belief in the human spirit. I admire it. I wonder if there is always such kind thoughts in the author's mind or if she ever slips. I have had a busy week. I have done well and racked up loving kindness points in tending to sick children. Leaving the doctor's office today though the spectre of Children's Aid loomed in my mind. I wondered if it was somehow my fault that R hurt her arm. It seemed that it was such a faraway voice that reminded me that I was not even in the room when she fell. That alone caused twinges of guilt "Could I have prevented it if she had been in my sight?" I cannot be there for them all of the time. It is physically impossible and the thought of it just sets me up for failure. It seemed such a familiar pattern though to blame me for the ills of the week. Could I have done better?  Maybe. Perhaps.

   By Fridays end T and R are abed, sleep inching through their consciousness. R has no visual effects from her ordeal and would probably be far stretched to even think of her doctor visits as an ordeal. T's sick day on Wednesday provided her with interesting stories to tell her friends at nap-time, not demons to plague her. They both gave me hugs and kisses as I tucked them under their sheets. I reminded them that Daddy is with them always and the proof is that they exist. He is a part of them and all they have to do is hug one another to feel his arms around them. Beautiful thoughts. T also offered the smiling thoughts that I was there too and I carried Daddy too. I do. Beautiful girl. Beautiful man. They are my positive I guess. Just reach out for my hug and recieve my soul song. Thank you baby.

Lost love

Darn it all, but it is sometimes easier to live in the past. I just finished reading a book by Dr. Bernie Seigel and it even suggested to not fall back into old relationships to hold back loneliness. Or was that my Fairy Cards? Regardless, the thought was put forth from somewhere out there that going back to old relationships might leave me renewed with fresh life, but ultimately the reason behind the breakup/down just might rear its ugly head again. I sense the truth in that. I am tempted by promised smiles, touches and love. Something out there has heard my heart wavering and is dragging temptation away. My head tells me this is a good thing. A heartsmile fades. Goodbye again J. Maybe next life. Thank you for your from afar. It needs to stay afar. The fates have spoken.

Sick Day

My sick baby looks like so much paste lying against the pillows of the couch. Her movements today have consisted of running to the bathroom to dry heave, throw up or poop. The only other movement has been of her eyes, as she follows a movie on the DVD player. She is well enough to watch a movie, but barely able to take a glass of water to her mouth. I am sad for her, but doing well in being a caring Mommy, I hope. I have held her hair back as she has sat with her head in the toilet bowl. I have murmured that it is okay, as she quietly comments that her underwear have poop in them. It is laundry day and not nice to not have control of your body. I have been there and know it is not nice. It will be a quiet night tonight, if I am lucky. Jazz show cancelled. Yoga skipped (good thing my neighbour came over for yoga last weekend). Probably missing my therapeutic touch training tomorrow, which is disappointing. Not certain if the weekend will see us headed out of town as planned. Sorry Janet! The price of Motherhood (joyfully accepted as long as they are healthy soon please!). Fingers crossed that no one else feels crummy soon. Good night. Time to tend to babies.

Growing through love

   It is Tuesday evening. I enjoyed a lovely roast beastie dinner this evening with friends. The kids all ate well and got properly spun out by their dessert of chocolate and mini cinnamon rolls. I relished playing the role of sophisticate sipping red wine and discussing classic children's literature, homeless people and whatnot stuff. We laughed and socialized. I felt normal. I am a part of the world. I even worked today. My "job" is not one I had ever really visualized myself in, but I am thoroughly enjoying the experience of being an artist's apprentice/assistant if you will. How novel! How bohemian. How truly me. I also attended the second meeting of my new book club last night. Again feeling tres sophistice discussing the merit of a piece of literature (actually it was agreed that the novel we read was not a favourite amongst us and the author was not overly respected) We drank wine and ate cheese, crackers and truffles. We pontificated on relationships with Mothers and how that changes over time. All very real world. All lovely experiences that I am thoroughly enjoying. All things I could never have dreamt of doing two years ago.

   My world is a constantly evolving thing that I am enjoying more every day. While I would love to have Brad at my side to watch our children laugh and grow, that reality is not something that I can reach out and touch. While my Brad is still very real and walks with me daily, he is not something that I can curl up to in bed. He still offers me more love than I could imagine and much insight into life, he can never again watch the kids so I can run to the store for milk or mushrooms. Whatever figures creep into my world might offer a warm spot in bed for a moment, but the bed is mine alone. I hesitate to offer me for fear of hurting me, my girls and the reality that I still am trying to figure out and settle in. I crave someone to help hold the reins of life, but cannot help the critical eye I cast on candidates. Not good enough for the girls, or Brad, or worse ME? Truthfully I still don't hold myself high enough just yet to trust instincts and old flames. I want someone to be by my side and be perfect, but know that will never be. Not right now. Maybe not ever, but I doubt that. In my heart, I feel that a more deserving soul will walk upon my path some day and we will smile on each other. I do feel that. Maybe I have read too many fairy tales, but I think it is more the love that I have been honoured to be showered with over the last two years. I know Brad will always walk with me, but I suspect that he is ready to step aside when I am ready to love myself enough to walk with someone else. Beautiful soul. Thank you

Sunday Suggestions: Part II

   The daylight has seeped from the world. Sunday winds its way towards its close. A lovely day it was though. The birdhouse is now completed (slightly incorrectly - what else is new!) and its fresh coat of paint is drying. Images of our morning saunter through the forest please my inner eye in reflection. The general swath of dull brown this time of year belied a rainbow of colours if one was to walk slow enough to see. Red berries and dogwood twigs punctuated vibrant green mosses and paler green grasses fading thru yellow. Purple clover played saucily at the base of white birch trees. A few yellow and orange leaves clung to branches fluttering in wisps of a breeze. Black and white chickadees flitted through barren brown branches of mighty oaks. Pale mushrooms nestled close to their bases for security. The Queen Anne's Lace retained its dignity in its delicateness along leaf covered pathways. The smells of a forest alive as it settled down for its long winter's nap was a balm for a seeking soul. How can one not find their breathe in such a serene moment.
   I must even share a brief epiphany if you will as we ambled up the last hill towards the parking lot. A mighty oak tree stood off on its own in the grasses to the right of the path. At some point it had split in two, but seemed to still be struggling on. I pointed the Grandfather out to the girls and commented that when it died it would help to feed the rest of the forest, therefore living on and fulfilling purpose. The thought struck a cord inside myself as well. I likened Brad to my Grandfather image, my oak tree example. Brad has died, but he continues to feed my soul and strengthen me. He provided for me so that I may grow and flourish. That is where I am now. I am slowly recovering from the loss of my dear oak tree, but being nourished by what is still left behind. It struck me as a beautiful image and truth. Perhaps it might for others as well.

Sunday Suggestions

   The muffins are cooled and the day is open to behold. What shall weave its way into today? The last of the autumn leaves are scattered in small pockets and suggest themselves to me. A wooden birdhouse lays on the counter and my daughter's eyes beseech me to put it together. Forever a crafter, she is in her glory when we are creating something, anything. I love my little fairy child for her joy of life! I have a yen to whiff the outside air and soak up the mild weather. The scents of a forest floor call to me in promise of renewal. The season of hibernation lends one to thoughts of quiet activities and togetherness. Anon! I must go!!

Ponderings in Poetry

The bath slowly fills.
escape to quiet
Children abed.
Swirling, whirling
Pop!
the bubble bursts.

Invitations uninvited
quiet smiles,
but no.
Why? Need not? not
Bigger needs are me
peace be to me

To take care of me
I must sit still with thee
Stare through the candles flame, and be
Perhaps then to see
How I can be free
and love myself at last with glee
(teehee!)

Arms wide open

Arms wide open
beautiful blond heads racing
headlong towards me
screeches of delight
to see me. Me.
Precious

Sulking lower lips
accusing me of treason
as dreaded supper sits cold
on table so long
long enough to raise tones of mine;
Ire

Sleeping bodies
surrounded by books
blankies and cuddlies
Day is forgotten
Smiles survive
Love

Rainy November Day

It was cool and rainy this afternoon. The chill has slipped into my bones and I feel lethargy creeping in as well. Dinner is a kid-friendly affair (chicken fingers, fries and carrot sticks from the farmer's market to add a healthy edge), as I do not have the energy to encourage eating for an hour. No fights please! I suspect a bath might be in order this evening to give the feel of a warm hug around me. Fire logs might even grace the hearth for the first time this season. I still have not got around to getting any real wood, so make do on a chilly evening. My therapeutic touch class this afternoon was lovely as always, but I think it unravelled an emotional hiccup in me. I feel low energy. Take care of me tonight. Loving kindness. I offer a kiss to my heart centre and hope that my love will sustain til bedtime. The dinner bell rings...

Drum circle

As the rhythms still flow I will pen a few words. This evening was my drumming circle. It is a little gift to me and I absolutely love it. My personal rhythm is not always all it could be, but when I sit in a group of like-minded people and we all listen and play a beautiful heart beat comes out. Layers of tones slide into strategically placed tings and dongs to make a lovely esoteric vibration. I love being a part of our little trance session that transports us all out of our busy reality. I can step out of my shoes and step into my heart and let it sing. There are resonant vibrations and drum beats that help one remove from your head and just feel. I am surprised by not only how much I respond, but how everyone appreciates the gift we create and offer up to ourselves. It is truly beautiful and special. It is another step in healing that cleans the inside heartaches away, if only for a spell.  Thank you to my special friend Randolph for bringing this experience into my life and being a part of my life. One man that believes in life and me. He pushes me to believe in me. Smiles for us my friend ...

That darn positive angel is wrong tonight, but she won't leave me alone regardless

Sometimes such beautiful words and thoughts spring forth when I metaphorically put pen to paper. I do love my actual pen and paper, but my blog space has served up some interesting thoughts and reads as of late. Some nights, like tonight, I feel heavy of heart and not pleased with myself. Tonight my blues have no real clues. I had a day of uncertainty in self, feeling not good enough and making wrong decisions left and right. I see failings and incompetencies and wallow near the pool of tears I keep on hand for occasions such as these. Tomorrow may sprout rainbows and hugs and pats on the back, but I cannot let my backslides and inadequacies go. Is there comfort in allowing me to never be good enough? No. It just is. I allow me to be or not be what I wish I could be. I wish I were stronger, better, calmer, more. My guardian angel chastises me and reminds me that if I were listening to someone else I would not accept dismal thoughts or words, but point out positives hidden everywhere. The words are dull tonight. As am I. Worthy of  bed and not much else tonight. Perhaps tomorrow will offer refreshment and return a positive spin. Let it go. night

Healing

Painted hands typing tapping.
Why do I let the door drift open
to phone calls with pain at the end?
I know that a fleeting smile
will quickly be erased by the lonely ache of yesterday.
Yesterday's yesterday becomes golden
gilded in empty words
and empty arms.

The haunting music

touches my inner voice

where my soul cries at injustices of the world.

Why? why

"Why not", is a voice that pokes me into tomorrow

Tomorrow holds promises not yet told.

I can see smiles and laughter

My penance for the tears I offered up

A pain I cradle in my heart

a soft pain now

a forever pain that I gladly hold up for eyes to see.

So many tears

"See, look I survived! Strength."

That is not how it happened, but you don't need to know.

Gods hands hold a healing heart.

Unseasonable Smiles

Yesterday was a beautiful day. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in the sky. The temperature was an unseasonable 17 degrees that was reminiscent of the summer that mostly wasn't. We were lazy and lounged most of the morning. The girls laughed and kicked in the leaves at the curb as I packed the van for our trip to Grandma's. T-shirts were sported. A lovely day for a drive, so a long cut was taken. Country roads graced us with scenes of farmer's fields, lonesome cows and the last of the motorcyclists wheeling with wind in their faces. Brad rode shotgun, as a map loosely guided the van vaguely east. The Indigo Girls crooned in my ear and I was in my glory.

Until my cell beeped at me. Two missed calls, one from my Mother and one from Billy. "Where are you? Your mother is worried sick about you," a text accused. I was jarred back into present time, which was surprisingly late. My random drive and serene sunshine were abandoned for a trek back to the highway at a much faster pace. Accusing tones figured I had drank too much the night before or met someone that distracted me; neither true. I was enjoying the day in my own world, in my own head. "She must be off on a reiki train," they scoffed. I was relegated to the couch and barely made it to the adult table. "It does not matter", droned in my head. I am tired today though. Not enough sleep. Not enough normal for my family. Where do I belong? My own head seems to give my family worry. Sigh....

Family Gathering

MMmmhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Breathe. The sound of squabbling children will fade into the background. It is early in the day yet. Not time for the war of the worlds yet. Maybe I will be lucky and meltdowns will be averted by the presence of relatives. We shall be gathering into the fold of my Mother's arms. Birthdays are the stated occasion, but really it is the end of summer and we have not all gathered in a while. Excuses are not necessary. It is purely just about love. We need to reconnect and hug and smile. Drinks will be imbibed, but perhaps in less moderation due to the various colds/flus that everyone has been recently battling. I shall make this brief therefore today and get a start on the business of the day. Family, food and fun here we come. Have a lovely weekend and enjoy the sun!

A red rose fills my vision, brain with energy shared for the day

Smiles return.

Coffee with a friend

meet, laugh, share, chat.

Beautify me!

Hair shimmers in rainbow dreams.

Gorgeous red, yellow, blue, indigo streaks.

No charge for that extra. Ahhh

Panini to go. Warm and toasty

nutrients for the tummy.

Yummy.

Soothing thoughts, voices fill the afternoon

Peace and love through energy channels

straight into open soul

bliss and a shoulder that sighs in satisfaction

wonderous smiles and hugs

vibrating golden glow

hold it for longer

hold it for always.

Remember to find it again

The Body will remember again

The knowledge is there, sliding into cells

wonderous touch

love

Cascading into friends eyes

 and future finds

fill our tummies with more yummy yummies

a meal fit for a fairy king in a children's parade

no tears, but of laughter

no fears, but of time sliding away

life is today

life is all days

Life

Wednesday Whirlwinds

I had a good day today. It was another mild, blissfully sunny November day. I dropped off the kids, grabbed a coffee and headed out to pick up a few things. I managed to spend a few dollars, but got a birthday present for my sister, a new bedspread  and mattress pad for the soon-to-be new bed for my eldest and some other bits and bobs. Fresh bread from the bakery served to fill my tummy with sandwich before attacking the floor that had challenged me for too long. Satisfaction at a clean floor helped me to sail along to yoga for an ohm good time. A bottle of wine picked up and hugs from the darlings continued the smiles, as did lighting of the BBQ for a late in the season steak dinner. All good.

So where did it all go wrong? All that positive energy I built up all day exploded when the milk hit the floor (my newly mopped floor!) followed by a plate full of juicy steak, potatoes and salad with salad dressing of course. The chair pillow was soaked. The wall was splattered. My beautiful clean floor had lasted for a scant few hours and I was livid. I hate mopping the floor, but when I do mop I find a serene beauty in it. It makes me blissfully happy to know that I have conquered the dirt, germs and stains. It never lasts though. The day the floor gets mopped is the day that mass food spillage is guaranteed to occur. Sighing and shaking my head are all I can muster now, but the kids got worse than that. I sometimes wonder where my anger comes from. How can I get so upset over spilled milk? Well, it was also working on the 45 minute mark of sitting at the table and I had been watching them eat for the better part of 20 with an empty plate in front of me. Both of their plates were still looking almost untouched. "Wasting food!" my brain screams at me. "My time and energy" my defeated soul moans. I yell and rant and lose the battle again. "Maybe I just won't make dinner any more!", I fume, knowing that is a ridiculous threat, but wishing that I could somehow convince them that the dinner wars are just not worth it. I am not the first parent to have these challenges and I know I will not be the last. I just wish I could be a little more graceful at making dinner flow pleasantly. We lit candles for goodness sake and had music playing! It should have been a good meal. I even served bread (probably the downfall there). Yeah, yeah, you lose Katherine, let it go.

I could not let it go though. Dinner crashed to its close and I re-mopped the floor. The dishes were put away from the dishwasher and refilled. I finished my wine without children, breathed for a moment and then jumped back into the ring. This time the battle was the play room. Why do I do this to myself?! Oh Lord, but the floor has not been seen for many a day/week. I entered the room and threw the gloves down. Television off. This was serious. I had been warning them this day was coming and today was the day. I figured I was in the right spirit for it, so sat down amidst the mayhem and began to sort. The kids brought me toys to sort into bins and I directed what was to go where. "Garbage. Your bedroom. Dress-up trunk. Garbage. garbage." Two hours. T asked me, "is it bedtime yet?" I looked at my watch to find it was already nine! Holy shamoley!! The mess was tamed though. The floor was discovered and it was good. T even thought it looked much better. I tried to vacuum after the girls were tucked into bed, but even it resisted me tonight. A broom finished the job. Unfortunately my dream of a tub tonight was shattered. Sigh. Alas, alack-a-day! The basement can be walked into though. The garbage has been put out. And now it is way high time for me to toss my weary cranky body into bed. I will live to fight another day, but hopefully tomorrow the fight will not be about food or a messy basement. Please

Monday wanes philosophic

Bed ways is right ways, but a comment to the world at large before sleep steals my soul.
   We all live in our own world. We have control over our world and no one else's. We may touch and influence those around us, but ultimately they are in control of their own destinies. Our children make their own minds up even as infants. We can offer and help shape, but no one can make up all the decisions. Even in acquiescing we make that decision. In that way we come at the world as individuals. No one has lived your life and you cannot live anyone else's. Your burdens are your own. If we reach out and ask for help and get nothing, that is all we can expect. If someone reaches out and offers a hand when we are fallen and dirty, this is a joy we can cherish. We might fall at something big or something little. Who is to say that my big is not really little or your little is truly huge. It is all relative. We can only view it through our own filter. Ultimately we can only live our own life, so what does it matter what the next person's burden is. We all have our burdens and they are own own to carry. Mine is mine and not anyone else's. It is as much as I can and need to carry. I do not need to worry that someone else's burden looks different than mine. We can help and offer to share. That is a beautiful thing, but it does not always happen. At times it should not happen either, as we only live one life and it is ours. It is yours alone. You walk side by side, not in each other's footsteps. If you are lucky enough to have someone to walk beside. Some days you may see no one, but you would be surprised that some days when it feels like you will never see a soul again an army of angels is there helping to carry the load. I can look at my darkest hours and see the angels. Some days they were subtle. Some days it was overwhelming. I share, but this is my experience. Mine alone that I cannot replicate or do over. I control me. Myself alone. That is enough. Enough for me. Enough for one night. Enough for anyone.

Bed shopping

   More sunshine and even a little warmth today. How wonderful! While we talked of going for a walk in the woods, we ended up spending the day mattress shopping. Who would have guessed that a 4 1/2 year old would be so picky? She has been sleeping on an old hand-me-down foam mattress that probably has the faint hint of old urine, but all the beautiful beds we bounced on today were "not the right one!" She is four and has the opinion of her Dad. Has to try every mattress in every store. None of them good enough for her. Of course until the very last store, that is. Perhaps it was the fear that no mattress would be bought, but she finally started to warm up to a few beds. All day I was hearing "too soft" and "not the one!", but finally lunch kicked in and decisions were made. Hurray, we found one! My credit card took the hit, but for a good cause to be sure. T will enjoy her new bed for many sleeps to come and have the joy of being kicked out whenever Grandma comes to visit. We even left behind a little puddle as painful payment  from the training three-year-old that gamely followed along from store to store all day. Poor R!
   Now all I have to do is finish putting the bed together before the bed arrives in a week's time. Only have to add the the hangers (and hope they are all even). The rails slide into the hangers, so that shouldn't be a problem. I am sure it will be a beautiful thing once it is all together. It will be a bed for a princess! Only 2 1/2 months from the time since we first spied her heart's desire at Aberfoyle. I work slow, but might finish this task! Perhaps tomorrow the sunshine will grace us again and we will enjoy it's warmth in the country. Fingers crossed.

 

Autumn rays

It is a beautiful sunny Friday, the first one of November. It could be the first sunny day of November too, if I thought long enough about it. I debate going outside to rake the last of the leaves, but my little darlings are sleeping soundly. I kind of want them to join me, but do not want to wake them. I was looking at the pictures we took from last weekend in the leaves and just love the outdoors this time of year. The sky has such a crisp colour. Whether it be set against the backdrop of blazing leaves or as it sits now bare branches, it is wonderful to soak up the fleeting sunshine. It just makes you want to smile. Soon enough snowflakes will rule our world, but for now the sunshine provides nourishment to the psyche. Perhaps I should wake the bears?

Random Things that Cross my World this Evening

Goose eggs and iced foreheads
Hallowe'en candy pumpkins slowly leaking sugar, drip, drip, drip into children's veins
vegetables shells with yummy shrimp (good thing, as bland sauce )
Dinner eaten - little insistent prompting (oh miracle!)
Plates scraped and put in dishwasher
quiet night to soak in TT
Books on nightstand
children's smiles
Playdates
empty wine glass
pajamas
Hugs

Hugs

The children are abed.
Quiet. Do they sleep?
Lovely, end of day desirous of me
Poor me that is pushed out
for Mommy reigns supreme. Always

My choice, but not this way.

How did I lose myself?
How do I fit me in beside Mommy?
Me is important.
Me makes Mommy a nicer person.
Me holds life in her hands. All life.
Forever life.
Mine and every path I cross.

smile.
Pass it on
Children laugh
Hugs stretch across generations
and heal the world.
My world.
all worlds

New Music

Well, I am just thrilled to have found some new music, compliments of Blogger. I was browsing through a few sites and found a band that just tickles my fancy. Iron and Wine is acoustic folk I guess. Very melodic and beautiful. It feels like it caresses the soul and makes the heart a little lighter. I am really grooving on it. It fits in with my jazz, blues movement as of late. Very cool.

So I have paint gracing my knuckles this evening. This makes me happy. I am working for a friend again this fall. She makes hand-crafted animal-inspired knick-knack things (clocks, menorahs, Christmas ornaments, etc.). I get to paint messy messy and chat with others. Oh, and get a few bucks at the end of it. A bonus at Christmas time. It gives my brain a break from some of the things it usually gnaws at and this is also a good thing. I find that I come home and don't worry about my usual frets. They are losing their power at the moment and I appreciate that. I hope that the power continues. So looking at my hands and seeing paint lets me know I am moving forward in a positive way. Ahh, lovely.

Hey, there is a smile flitting across my face... Nice :)

November begins

Oops, I missed yesterday. I have noticed that my blog entries had been more numerous, so aspired that perhaps I would write every day in the month of November. Oh well. Maybe almost every day. Perhaps the month of December I will be that much better at this, so therefore will be writing something meaningful every day.

Or maybe not.

So far not inspired tonight. Perhaps it is because I am battling a cold. Perhaps because I am distracted by a friend on FB. Perhaps because I worked today and am tired. Yes, you heard me correct, I worked today. Just a short-term thing, but right up my alley. I am back to the land of messy messy painting and solving all the problems of the universe over a cup of joe and a paint brush. Art therapy began today and will last for 3-4 weeks, maybe longer if I am lucky. I don't get paid well, but I do get paid to help create nifty, crafty, colouful pieces. Yeah for me. Especially as it is only 2 days a week. Perfect!