Short night. Long day running the kid’s fest booth.
One of the only really hot days of summer so far. All of us a little crispy around the edges. Good bug hunting for cats on the porch, though.
Skipped a couple of days, but bread dough is made and will be ready for baking tomorrow night, if it’s not too hot. If it is, maybe I’ll try the BBQ dutch oven method. Don’t know how that will work without a thermometer, though—I think the BBQ just has a low to high gauge.
So tired. Reading The Tiger’s Wife. Tried to start Nim Chimpsky all day, in between people, but the fest was too distracting.
Tomorrow the kids have relatives coming into town around 10 a.m. to take them out for the day, in celebration of the twins’ birthday on Monday, I guess. Aarggh, I’d like my one day to sleep in. Here’s hoping nobody has to come in to pee.
Ahh. Silence. Things stay where I’ve put them, for the most part. No questions or stories when I’m still waking up. Nobody just sitting there, staring at me. Nobody probing me for what we’re going to do next. No having to ask that the Hulu or Netflix get turned down, or off. No kicking kids out of the room so I can have a conference call. No hiding in my room just to have time to myself. No yelling. No pulling out my hair. No having to leave the house because I’m feeling stabby because nobody will pick up after themselves and I am sounding like a broken record (and channeling my mother). No having to get dressed to leave the room (it’s amazing how much I run around half-naked when there are no kids around). No doing dishes and laundry several times a day. And best of all—I went grocery shopping on Saturday—and there’s still food in the house!
On the flip side… No spontaneous hugs, no excited storytelling, no pals to go on walks or to First Friday with, no helpers for VegNet events or potlucks. No family game nights. No special cooking or baking. No general silliness. Nobody is doing art, or painting their nails, or reading Harry Potter books. Nobody is bugging me to walk up Pilot Butte.
A small reprieve… from the step-kids.
It’s the only one we get, and then they’re here for two more long months. I love having them here—and it drives me crazy to have them here. That’s family.
Tonight, familiar strangers puttering around inside my head.
Mulling about, flipping on and off the lights.
Wreaking mundane havoc.
Incoherent muttering, just off stage.
Apparently, it was Mother’s Day today. Being motherless for 20+ years and also childless, it slipped by me. In years past, if the step-kids were here they would always wish me a Happy Mother’s Day, sometimes bringing along a craft project from school. I appreciated their thoughtfulness, and yet I always felt awkward, like a fraud: A faux mom.
I guess the only true mom role I have is with my companion animals. Thank the gods for my animal family.
I’m not sure I’m ready for the double-edged life of a part-time step-parent again. All the illusion of authority and control, but none of the reality.
OK, Beez, just mellow out and be a good example. That’s all you can really do.
reflect on this year and manifest what’s next
Core Story. What central story is at the core of you, and how do you share it with the world? (Bonus: Consider your reflections from this month. Look through them to discover a thread you may not have noticed until today.)
I’m a little self-reflected out. Good thing it’s the last day of reverb10. Happy New Year (thank the gods).
reflect on this year and manifest what’s next
Gift. This month, gifts and gift-giving can seem inescapable. What’s the most memorable gift, tangible or emotional, you received this year?
One thing I’ve had in abundance in 2010 is time. Time isn’t a gift that I chose, but one for which I am grateful. Since I’m not running the kids back and forth to the valley every other weekend like we did for 6 or so years (3 hours there, 3 hours back), they aren’t here to spend time with, and my husband prefers to spend a lot of time alone, I’ve been left to my own devices for the last year. As first I didn’t know what to do with myself. But soon, I realized how lucky I was to have breathing room again. This “extra” time has allowed me to run VegNet and related activities, start the radio show, make fitness a priority, do yoga, go mountain biking, have lunch or tea with friends, run leisurely errands, do major house maintenance, hang out with my Dad when he’s not doing the snow-bird thing, hang out with my animal friends, write, blog, read, and just be. Having had a taste of parenthood, I realize how precious this time is. Real parents don’t get breaks like this. Real parents don’t have time for themselves. I’m fortunate to have been given time. A bittersweet gift.