Headbangin'

Do you ever feel like you are hitting your head (bam!) against a wall and you just can't stop (bam!) yourself.  It's a really hard wall like cement (bam!) and slightly crumbly like it's been there since the dawn of time (bam!).  And you can't stop even though it's very painful (bam!) and embarrassing since, well, stupidity is somewhat embarrassing.

I always take on more than I am able (bam!) then wonder why I'm miserable and paralyzed with stress (bam!) and end up with a crippling migraine (bam!).

I've heard people say, "my cup runneth over!" delighted by the overflow of goodness.  I'm leaning toward a different metaphor.  My plate is very, very full.  My food is bulging off my plate (bam!) and onto my nice tablecloth (bam!).  The peas are attacking me (bam!) and the gravy cannot be stopped!  My arms aren't big enough (bam!) and soon I'm smothered in gross gravy goop!

So, I de-goop (bam!).  Simplifiy (bam!).  Break some committments (bam!).  Rectify any dissappointed feelings (bam!).  And finally stop (bam!) banging (bam!) my precious (bam!) head....ahhh!

Someday I'll learn the wisdom of saying "no."

Remembering

There is this memory that I have that has given me an immense amount of comfort lately.  It's been a gift.  It isn't a specific memory that happened, rather a spot in my childhood home where I would spend a lot of time. In the quiet of our living room I would nestle on the couch, shoes off of course since this was our best room, and read or draw or snuggle up to a good afternoon nap.  It was ideal for me.  I could see the goings on outside since in front of me was our large front window.  And I wasn't easily seen by fellow Derr residents because of the short wall that separated the living room from our front hallway.  But I could see anyone who entered.  Truly it was the best spot in the house to just be without interruption.

Because of the monumental remodel of my mother's home a few years ago, that spot no longer exists.  Only in my memory it is alive and telling.  And it has much to say to me as a mother.  It reminds me of some simple ingredients to happiness.  Comfort.  Rich, warm, inviting smells.  Somebody's favorite food.  Laughter.  Giggles.  Occasionally staying up late just to be together.  Forgiveness.  Long hugs.  Saying "I love you" again and again.  Peaceful music.  Dancing in the kitchen.  Working side by side.  Talking.  Holding hands.  And love.  So much love.

No huge home necessary.  Fancy things not required.  Just us appreciating what we have, giving what we can, and loving each other immensely. 
  
I reflect back on our family situation at the time this memory is most strong.  It was not a time without struggle.  This is not a mere yearning for easier days without pain or responsibility.  We were fighting a losing battle with cancer yet this quiet enemy made us closer.  We made each moment count for we knew, yet again, one of our own would be called home soon.  I stayed home a lot during that time.  My sister took a million pictures and began the tradition of a family slide show each Christmas.  Our family turned inward and we set our priorities on hearth and home.  A lesson that can be easily forgotten.

So I allow myself to bathe in this memory of warm, glowing incandescent light, the smell of the wood burning fire, the sounds of a scratchy record player playing White Christmas by the Tab Choir.  I smile and again remember the simple ingredients for happiness.  I remember to turn to hearth and home.

Black Cats and Bats and Ghosts!

Today Logan and I decided to take a little stroll.  We played our favorite I Spy game which fizzled quickly with the surprise appearance of a very friendly fat black cat.  Now, being one of a very long line of dog people in my family I took a moment to think if Logan has even encountered a feline.  His initial apprehension told me probably not.

After about 5 minutes of strict observance of said fat feline, Logan decided it was his new favorite pal and began to follow it devotedly.  Fatty Catty led Logan through all sorts of rough terrain, though bushes and well manicured flower beds.  I watched with amusement from the sidewalk as Logan would never quite touch the cat but couldn't stay more than a foot away from this new furry being.

And the cat loved Logan!  He would run ahead then wait for Logan to catch up.  Then Logan would run and Cat would chase him then flop on the ground wanting his belly rub.  It was too cute and very appropiate for the season I must say.

After we said our goodbyes (a.k.a. me walking away with a kicking and screaming toddler until Cat was out of sight) we headed home, threw some rocks on our way and enjoyed the colors of fall hand in hand.

I love this kid.