Here I Go Again, Meow Meow, How Can I Resist You?

Tess, at nap time, trying not to fall asleep (with perfect lyrics, tune and rhythm to ABBA's Mama Mia):

Mama Kitty, here I go again, meow meow,
How can I resist you?
Mama kitty, does it show again? meow meow
Just how much I've missed you

Meow meowmeow meow-meow meow-meow
Meow meowmeow meow-meow meow-meow

Deo Gratias

Ella
Tess
Brendan
Family
Friends
Humor
Love
Grace
Patience
Forgiveness
My computer
Steam rising from the pond across the street in the morning
The pillowtop mattress
Chicken stew
Coffee
Living in a State that has access to the best medical care in the country
Ginny
Strength
Courage
Dora the Explorer
Knitting
Music
My ipod & itunes
Starbucks
The Library
State Parks
Cooking
Baking
Scrabble
Bubblebath
Facebook
Reading
Books
Magazines
B23
Footed-pajamas
Black & White Movies
Curiosity
Gus
Ella
Tess
Brendan

I'm Betting There Was No Serpent.

I bet she didn't need a snake to tempt her. I'm sure she came upon the fruit while wandering alone. On a day when the low clouds were purple-gray and promising rain. On a day when the wind was strong enough to whisk away the scent of everything except wood smoke and the occasional pungent fermenting apple. On a day she had nothing on her mind, particularly, and therefore was surprised by the poignancy of the sight of the forbidden.

There it was, crimson against the dull green-brown leaves. There it was weighing down the branches. Beautiful. And too precious to rot on the branch, wasted.

She knew it would be crunchy, sweet, and nothing to regret. She had sense enough to see she deserved it. Everyone deserved such a thing.

And so she bit.

Flasks are cool and fit easily in diaper bags.

I'm A Big Kid Now!

To Do List:

Also known as things I aspire to:

1. Move the folded laundry from the back of the couch to the proper dresser drawers while still folded.

2. Clean out dresser drawers of old clothes that are too small/ don't get worn so that newly folded laundry will fit.

3. Vacum so that I can take off my flip-flops in my own house.

4. Start a sensible diet program.

5. Start a sensible exercise program.

6. Finish the book I'm reading. (And have been reading for about four weeks).

7. Get my girls to eat sources of protein other than extra-firm tofu.

8. Take better care of my skin.

9. By January, find a class in which to enroll so I can do something to feed my brain.

10. Learn to sew.

11. Fulfill my own expectations.

12. Find creative and fun and free activities to do with the girls this fall and winter.

13. Help the girls relate to each other

14. Find time for my husband and me.

15 Paint the kitchen.

16. Learn to listen better.

17. Find and block the hole in the attic the squirrels are using for access before winter comes.

18. Write one of the many short story ideas that have been knocking around in my head trying to get out.

19. Reconnect with my friends. (Kim? are you out there?)

20. Commit myself to my place of worship.

21. Volunteer at a non-profit.

22. Continue to put my children first.

23. Feel a sense of accomplishment.

24. Breathe deeply.

25. Be quiet.

I Have A New Haircut

I have a new haircut. I love it. It's short short with a longer piece on top that sweeps to the side over my forehead. It is freeing, hip and a change of pace for me.

But when I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror I felt a sickening jolt of fear. I mean real fear. I didn't recognize myself. At all. And it is not just the haircut. I do not know the woman looking back at me. In my mind's eye, I see myself as I looked when I was about 22 - 26yrs: size 10, long blond ponytail, clear skin, smart with unfulfilled potential, sassy, unsure of myself, and wondering (and hoping) where I would end up when I "grew up."

Newsflash: I'm grown up. And I'm not who I thought I was or hoped I would be. I'm not a size 10 (or 12 or 14), no more long ponytail, I look tired, I'm still smart with unfulfilled potential (this is disorienting because I expected by now to have been well on my way to fulfilling my potential - an activist, an artist, a teacher or scholar). I'm still sassy and unsure of myself but that's not enough to define identity. And so I take stock.

The woman in the mirror is brave. Or can be for others. I've beat back the demons of infertility, multiple pregnancy, emergency birth complicated by tentative health of my children. I've faced down a devastating postpartum depression and a shattering diagnosis for one of my children. But like I said, I was brave for others. I've dealt with these issues for people I love. So that my husband will have a wife who can unlock the doors and go outside. So my daughters can have full lives and can live without the weight and consequence of a mother who was immobilized by fear and grief. So my daughter can learn and interact and reach out that others may experience her pure joyfulness.

I will conquer this fear I felt this morning using this courage I've wielded for others. I can do this. I'm going to face down lethargy and inertia. I'm leaving my fat suit on the floor with all the hair that got cut off yesterday. I'm going to have the courage to do something for myself without apology. I bought a yoga DVD and am joining Weight Watchers. I will drink lots of water and eat right. I will take a class on something that interests me and feeds my soul. I will volunteer. I will show my daughters how to live a righteous life for me (so that they can live one for themselves). And maybe soon the woman in the mirror and I will come to know and love each other. With or without the long blond ponytail.