the neglected house

I've neglected this space again.  The hazy windows are cracked and the ivy is climbing through. A layer of dust has collected over everything, cobwebs trail from the corners. If you step through the creaking door, there is a scuffling of something small in the corner, perhaps looking for a lost crumb that has been left behind.

That's how I see my blog right now.  Empty. Vacant. Forgotten. Forlorn.

The truth is I'm not sure what to make of this space right now.  It doesn't know what it wants to be and I hate to keep reinventing over and over as it makes me feel even more like the scatterbrain that I already know I am.

I'm tired of trying on personas that don't quite fit.
I'm tired of trying to think of ways to market to make something of myself.
I'm tired of giving up before I even get started.
And I'm terrified of making wrong decisions.
Hence the fits of starts and stops.

I'm discerning this year.
So many calls.
Which one is the right one?
Start. Stop. Start.

I know the end.  I can picture it in my mind.
But how to get there?
Especially since it is a road less traveled,
a road that thins out the closer I draw near
to the photo in my mind of pure happiness.

Perhaps that is the key.

Perhaps this place, this blog of mine
needs to be that picture in my mind.
Perhaps I need to see This Quiet House
as I have described it here.

Except to sweep out the dust and the cobwebs.
To open the windows, chase out the birds
that are living in the shadows
and let life breathe into it again.

out of balance

This is the same old story I have posted many times.

Out of balance.

Usually I feel it most on Monday mornings.

I wonder if I will ever remedy it.  No matter my intentions for a simple, quiet life there is always this feeling of imbalance and guilt.

Children, work, home, yard, animal care, personal care, spirituality.

I left my 14 year old home sick two days last week while I went to work and stayed home from work one day.  (guilt on both ends, guilt for leaving her on the days I went to work and guilt for not being at work the day I stayed home).  I work my rear off getting the house in order and then watch it be destroyed while my focus is elsewhere.  I'm managing my times with the girls and realized I've neglected the dog all day and haven't seen my Grandparents in two.  Last night we ate frozen pizza and box pasta salad standing up in the kitchen.  I can't tell you the last time I actually wrote anything, something I once felt passionate about.

And all the while smiling.

But behind that smile sometimes.

I am blessed.  I know there are single mothers working three jobs to make ends meet.  I am working one.  I know that sometimes there are no choices.  What is, simply is.

I don't have a terminal illness, or an abusive husband.  I know where our next meal is coming from and I don't worry about losing the roof over our heads.

But I am tired.  Oh so tired and sometimes feel like this was not the way it was intended.

But it is. Regardless.

A beautiful life.

No matter how out of balance it may feel.

I  keep trying to remind myself that and I try to push back that monster called guilt that constantly wants to whisper in my ear.  Everyone is safe.  Everyone is sleeping.  Everyone is fed.  Everyone feels loved,   A mantra for a life out of balance.

twelve times two

We've reached twelve again.  Oh mothers complaining of the terrible two's wait until you get to twelve.  There is something about this age where the push really begins. And while I have weathered twelve once already, it doesn't take  the burn out of going through it again.  The one thing I learned from the first time is that it passes.  Now at fourteen my oldest is getting better, even actually closer though we still have our moments.  Now with the youngest at twelve we are back to the eye rolls, the "I know"s, the "I don't care"s and "This is stupid"s, and the disappearing into the bedroom for long periods of time.  I know what this is.  I know this is burgeoning womanhood.  I know this is hormones and testing boundaries and thinking for yourself.  I know, I've read the books.  I watched my oldest go through it.  It doesn't make it easier though when they turn against you.  When they hate you.  When you are "the meanest mother in the world".  But my dear friends whose girls are grown say that it passes.  The next day, you get them back even for just a little bit (whew) and by the time they walk out the door for good, you will miss them.  

Here's to the almost teenage girl.  May we love them through their hormones, their drama, their crazy skin and hair, their fluctuating moods, their obsessions, their vicious independence and their intense hatred.

And may we borrow their sparkly shoes to feed the birds after they leave for school.

Spring Fever

starting over again

that feeling when you find yourself all over again, right where you left yourself, but somehow better. after a period of quiet reflection, your true self emerges and all the voices go away except for that still one that was always right there waiting.

welcome spring!

Winter, she did not let go without one last dance, and what a beautiful one it was. Just enough to dot the sky with magic and cover the ground one last time in a blanket of white, but not enough to make driving treacherous for anyone, the roads remained clear.  

This morning, all is in thaw.  There is the steady crashing of clumps of heavy, wet snow from the holly tree branches as the birds come in and take off in their business.  It reminds me of the scene in Narnia where winter breaks and the world is new again.

I have to say I did enjoy this winter more than in years past.  Even so I did reach my breaking point a couple of weeks ago.  I was starting to daydream of green grass, and warm sunshine and breezes through open windows as I hunkered down, my shoulders stiffened from being pulled up around my ears for so long.

I have often said what a gift it is to live in a place that has seasons.  A place where just when you feel you cannot take the scorching heat or the winter chill any longer, Spring and Autumn arrive to save the day.

There is such a renewal to Spring.  To the warming of the earth, the greening of the landscape, the birth of new life and the miracle of new growth erupting from it's long winter's rest,

Spring is here and with it my heart feels just a bit lighter.

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