For housework, I’ve started carrying him on my back instead of front and I LOVE it; he;s happy looking around and still close to my heartbeat, but he can’t grab anything. This is the simple genius I’ve been craving! Without him on my back, (which I find actually helps me be more conscious of my posture) cleaning the house turns into a game of see-who-is-more-effective: Mommy at cleaning vs. Patrick crawling around, showing me precisely where the house is not babyproof, somehow cause tiny explosions of scattered nonsense- or worse, used-to-have-sense. (My least favorite is his Godzilla-like destruction of my neatly stacked laundry piles)
I am clinging on with both hands to sticking with my 30 Days of Gratitude this November, despite being exhausted at the end of nearly every day and accidentally deleting an hour’s worth of fairly decent, reflective writing yesterday. I think it’s actually probably healthy that I let myself cry about it, even though every single time I do, I feel bumbling, awkward, exposed and of course, deeply pained. Suffice it to say, I kind of hate the whole thing. Who wants to feel like that? Hear the great philosopher Ricky Bobby as he told his faithful friend Cal, “Push it way, way down – and never bring it up again.”
Okay, so maybe it’s not the best thing, but I’ve trained myself not to cry over the years and I’ve slowly, now two years deep into a serious relationship, (and also since my dad passed away & I just can’t help it) felt safe enough (and sad enough) to sometimes let the tears escape, as screamingly uncomfortable as it may be. Last night at midnight, that’s exactly what was happening. It’s progress, I guess. For me, anyhow.
Speaking of which, here’s the latest on my gratitude list. My life is slowly but surely unfurling itself into something more beautiful and peaceful as I continually work to shift my focus, but I need to stay more on top of it in order to dive deeper into the things I’m grateful for, not just try and come up with things to write about. I want to live more authentically and to reconnect with myself & my family after two long years struggling with grief. So far, so good- little by little. I’m doing what I can, when I can & I’m trying my best, which is all anyone, including me, can reasonably ask.
Today I am grateful for:
- The gorgeous drive between Sonoma County and Sacramento. The vineyards changing color were beautiful, the sky ad clouds were gorgeous and there was hardly any traffic to mention.
- The closeness I have in both distance and heart with my sisters. Maybe my dad never got his boy, but the three of us are as different as we are similar, but we all love each other more than anything. Today, we played musical childcare to take care of the kids while we each took care of our business- and it worked! My sister even picked up around the house and did the sink full of dishes that I ignored to do this morning’s posts on Facebook while I was coming home. It was pretty awesome.
- In the past 24 hours, I’ve become Facebook friends with two accomplished people that I really admire. Also, many other Facebook friends whom I haven’t seen in years showed their support by posting pictures of themselves in red today- it almost brought tears to my eyes to think that something I did, said, thought or wrote inspired people I care about to action. It also showed me that people across the US- and as far away as New Zealand actually care about me and what I care about, too.
- Over 140,000 people were reached on Facebook alone for Gay Red Shirt Day. That number is slightly incomprehensible to me. Four other mamas and I did a lot of the legwork for this– along with the help of our parents’ group, friends and other people willing to stand up and stand in– and it grew huge. It’s all over Instagram & Twitter, too. I daresay mine was the first #GayRedShirt on Instagram- I’m cool like that. 😉
- A photo of my oldest son, actually smiling. As he’s gotten older, his photo face and his general self have become more refined and serious. There also seems to be a certain amount of photos of myself I can recall around the age of 11 or 12 where I was just a GEM of a portrait taker. Perhaps I’ll root around at my mom’s and see if I can embarrass the living bejeebus out of myself by posting one. Hey- it’s what I’m here for. Anyhow- here’s the actual gem of a photo I caught with my phone today on a pit stop. Gosh, I love my kids. &heats;
|See? There’s a flag coming out of Pat’s head a la Alfalfa|
|Thanks for checking in and see you tomorrow!|