Childhoodtake2!

I have been having a case of the mamma blues.
I have been feeling disconnected, disjointed, and unaware.
I have been missing the little, the cuteness, the wanting to be "just like mom".
I have been really really missing my kiddos.

Yes, they are right here with me.
Yes, we see and talk to each other all of the time.
But lately, they have been getting so big and going so fast that my head is spinning a bit and I feel off.
I feel like we're off.

And then, I came back from a weekend getaway.
I was greeted with the biggest smile I had ever seen.
My daughter baked me a birthday cake.
My son gave me little guy smooches.
And our little team was back.

And then, we went and worked out together.
And this daughter of mine, the one I was in twisted knots about, she kicked ass.
She pushed herself, but hard.
She picked up weights she hadn't even dreamed she could before and she pushed and pushed.
We did thrusters together and she kept up. She pushed and pushed and pushed and after every block, she looked for me to high-five.
And our little team was back.

And then, we came home and she told me all about her weekend, all about her time.
She filled me in on some of her friends and she talked and talked, just like she always does, about nothing, but just wanting to talk.
We made dinner together, turned on our show, we laughed together.
And our little team, we're back.

And then, our son and my hubby ran off to practice.
And my son wanted to try a play HE came up with.
And my hubby worked it into the rotation, and he was proud.
And they love doing this together.
And our little team, we are back.

And my hubby and I got two days away.
We ate and drank and smooched and walked and shopped and talked and smooched some more.
We hiked and played around, we laughed and held hands and touched toes.
We watched movies and smooched.
And our little team, we are back.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on escape.

For the first time since COVID, I walked back into a yoga class.
For the first time since the world stopped spinning, I planted my butt on a mat.
I listened to my breath. And I stretched and melted.
I escaped.

It's early and either hot or cold.
It's just me and Pearl and no music, no podcast. Just the sound of my very awkward feet hitting the road.
You can really hear me breathing, because I'm not a good or strong runner, but I do run.
I escape.

A couple of years ago, I stopped racing. I stopped proving I could do hard things.
So, I started really enjoying a walk.
First thing in the morning, last thing at night, middle of the day walking.
Pearl is actually smiling on these walks, and so am I .
I escape.

Walking into the damn gym, the one with the really loud music.
So damn early, it's still dark out.
Everyone is tired, but everyone showed up.
And the coaches are motivating as hell and you walk out feeling...different.
It's a way to escape.

I guess movement is my escape. It's my mental release.
It's my reminder that I can move, I need to move. My mind needs me moving.
It's how I let go, give up control.
I stop caring about how awkward I look, how wrong ease pose looks, how I don't hold a position correctly, how my body stumbles and my balance is a bit off.
It's fine, I'm here and I'm escaping.

It may well be that those whose work is their pleasure are those who most need the means of banishing it at intervals from their minds. – WINSTON CHURCHILL 

Mr. Churchill, hell to the yes!

It is no secret that I love to work.
I love love love it.
I love to feel the hum of my work.
I love the way I feel when I'm working.
I love that I am good at it.
I love how I can problem-solve.
I love my team.
I love how well they know me, I love how well we balance each other.
I love love love my work and I love love love to work.

It may well be that those whose work is their pleasure are those who most need the means of banishing it at intervals from their minds.

I love my new business.
I love the work I'm doing.
I love how well it's going.
I love the ups and the downs.
I love how I can do it anywhere, anytime.
If I have extra time, I will find work to do, there is always work to do.
I love love love my work and I love love love to work.

It may well be that those whose work is their pleasure are those who most need the means of banishing it at intervals from their minds.

But I am someone who, once upon a time, loved her work to actual death.
I am someone who, once upon a time, became only her work.
I am someone who, once upon a time, only had her work and became so unbalanced, overworked, and exhausted that I loved my work to death.
Actual death.
I killed my love, my joy, my hum. I killed the love love love that I have for my work and my love love love to work.

It may well be that those whose work is their pleasure are those who most need the means of banishing it at intervals from their minds.

So, it's different now.
It HAS to be.
Now, do I actually banish it from my mind? No.
Do I take long breaks meaning days/weeks away? No.
Do I take actual breaks in my day-to-day? Yes.
Do I find other things that bring me joy/make me feel whole? Yes.
Have I found my balance? Hell yes.

I once again found my hum.
My steps.
My joy. My love love love of work and my love love love to work.
I found out what it looks like to finally figure it out.

We forget all too soon the things we thought we could never forget. – JOAN DIDION

It can happen with things that seem like they don't matter...why did I come in here again? What was I just about to say?

But it can also happen with the bigger things that do matter.

Like I can't remember how Mia smelled.
I can remember her fur, how soft she was.
I can remember what her face looked like when she was smiling and when she was scared.
But I can't remember her smell.

I can't remember the last time you asked me to pick you up.
I can't remember the last time you came in for a morning snuggle.
I can't remember the last time I gave you a bath, fed you a bottle, changed a diaper.

I am the keeper of all memories and although each and every single one of these things is important, I cannot remember.

I get it, time tries to heal and let go.
Time tries to make it okay to move along.
Time wants to make it okay to move along.

Sometimes, when I think back to relationships, my mind does this thing that remembers all of the good.
My brain won't let me go to the bad.
Sometimes, I can't remember the why and when and how bad it all felt.
Sometimes, I can't call back the pain.
I am not fooling myself and I am not rewriting history. I know the pain was there, but my brain does not want to call it up.

That very much has to be okay too.
I want to have warm memories of my past.
I do not want to always go back to the loss, the concerns, the worry.
I want to remember the love that was shared, the reasons we were in each other's lives, the love we felt.

So I don't remember every fight, but I do remember most moments of touching love.
I don't remember every time I cried because of you, but I do remember the times I cried with you.
I don't remember how many times I wanted to walk away, but I remember why I didn't.

Maybe we don't remember on purpose.
Maybe we want to protect ourselves, our past, our memories, our people.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on absence.

In the absence of protection, I built walls.
In the absence of support, I created supports.
In the absence of encouragement, I proved over and over and over that I could do hard things.
In the absence of unconditional love, I went searching.

I angered many along the way.
I got my heart broken because of my own hard lines.
I would wash my hands so easily.
I would fight any fight just to fight.
I fell for people hard.
I was searching.

When I found what I never knew I was always looking for, I felt a weight lifted.
I felt lighter, happier, and at peace.
And when I started to create my own family, I built my own protections.
I built my own support, encouragement, and unconditional love.
I stopped being so mad.
I retired my fighting gloves.
I stopped proving I could do hard things and I started appreciating what I did.

Through all of this, I have always loved my people.
I have always looked at others who just know what to do and how to do it and why they are doing it in awe.
I have looked at their healthy personalities in awe.
I continue to learn from you because, in the absence of guidance, I found my own light in the darkness.

Now, with our kids at this stage, this age, this time in our lives...I am leaning a little more on my own instincts.
What works for us.
In the absence of anger, I have found a way to be more open.
In the absence of being constantly angry at myself, I have found a way to be more self-accepting.
In the absence of self-doubt, I have found my way.