in the land of not-enough and too-much, i think i’d rather err to too-much. there’s too little time for not-enough.
happy mother’s day. xoxo
*****
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oh geeeeez. i wish i could say that this was in-no-shape-or-form even a smidge of reality. but…it is all-too-true.
the google lens on my phone – and google, in general – are most definitely my oft-used applications, if you set aside the camera and texting. we are curious folks, after all. and when we are hiking and come across plants or creatures or tracks or trail options, we do have a tendency to whip out our phones and google it.
suddenly, we have access to all-there-is-to-know about mayapples, all-there-is-to-know about salamanders, all-there-is-to-know about jumping squirrel tracks, all-there-is-to-know about elevation gain and mileage, water on the trail, exposed areas with no shade. we become momentary experts on any single thing.
it’s like when you need a new stove/oven. you google stoves/ovens. you realize the proper word is actually “range”. you gasp at the cost. then you sort between gas, electric, glass-top, round-spirally elements. then you look to see what each of the options do – as opposed to what you really need or what you would really use. then you start sorting through brands. then you start reading reviews. then you ask a friend, or, maybe, many friends. you ponder and ponder, rich in language – and knowledge – versed in phrases and marketing terms like like dual fuel, conventional, convection heating, precision, programmable, vacuum, temperature probe, heating coils, sabbath mode, nearly poetic about the differences between bake, roast and broil. you proudly convey your newfound knowledge to anyone at all who wants to talk about ranges – or – really – anyone who doesn’t want to talk about ranges. you have arrived.
you decide. you purchase/choose/opt/elect/sign-on.
and then – like most any appliance decision/vehicle decision/children’s paraphernalia decision/eyewear/footwear/outerwear/new puppy/gas grill/television/cellphone/cable network/carpentry-masonry-tilesetting-plumbing-mechanic-architect/mattress/birdfeeder/menu decision – all the knowledge you have looked up and researched and gleaned and studied and pondered and perseverated over – doesn’t stick – promptly falls out of your brain – leaves the building – and you are left bereft. as if you knew nothing. all over again.
and the google gods chuckle. “did it again!” they smirk.
*****
read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING
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i’ve reeeally not been a nap person. napping in the daytime makes me feel kind of out-of-it, like i have to start the day all over again. but in these new days of insomnia…sleeplessness…big swaths of night wide-awake…well, the circumstances are a little different.
it is much easier for – him – to take a nap.
fact of the matter is, it’s much easier for him to sleep. any time. any where. sleep. sleep. sleep.
i’m not sure how he does it, but he lays his head down and he’s gone. meanwhile, i am tossing and turning and trying to figure out why his even breathing is so utterly annoying. yes, i know – i am simply jealous of his sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.
and so, i thought i’d give it a chance – a daytime nap. i knew it would never work. i knew i’d lay down and be wide awake, despite being utterly exhausted. i knew the daylight would prevent me from sleeping. i knew he’d sleep in a second and i would be yearning to just get-up and do-something.
but i was wrong.
i guess i’m growin’ up.
*****
read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING
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and suddenly, there – in the midst of dried fallen leaves and fallowed underbrush, trees not yet ready to bud – there – there it was.
and it was simply in seeing it – the daffodil – that hope was evident. next is evident. tomorrow is evident.
anything right now will soon be before. the daffodil told us.
*****
read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING
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the thing about being awake before the birds in this most-amazing-spring-like-february-roll-into-march is that you hear the birds start to sing. from the very beginning, the very first bird, that first tweet.
most of the time i do not sleep well. it appears that i am falling into the statistics of masses of middle-aged women – all of whom have insomnia, all of whom exhaustedly lay awake at night, all of whom ruminate and perseverate the night away, and maybe some of whom – like me – revel in the sound of first birds.
and this week? well, after a wonderful last weekend, the universe musta felt like we needed a little pounding. i know you know what i mean. sometimes weeks are like that. and sometimes…well, even the best cup of coffee in the world won’t get you out of bed.
and that’s ok.
*****
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as i write this – this very minute – i am …yes… sooo excited!! when your beloved adult children live far away, even a mere moment of a visit is cause for celebration! and so, we’re celebrating!
the lists kept me awake the last few nights. everything i wanted to get done before she arrives, before they arrive. most of it will go unnoticed, i know. and most of it is probably unnecessary. but for me, it’s all important. and pretty impossible. there is no way i will get it all done beforehand. but i will give it my best momma-try.
because there is nothing more profound than seeing your child when you haven’t seen them in a while, nothing more comforting than hugging your child when it’s been a longwhile since you have hugged them, nothing more sustaining than gazing at them – in real life – and memorizing it all until the next time. ❤️
*****
read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING
the meme “yeah, i’ve tried shutting up. it’s not for me.” jumped out at me today. it made me laugh aloud.
and i guess it’s true.
i TRY to keep my opinion to myself. sometimes. i TRY to keep my mouth shut. sometimes. i TRY not to say what i’m thinking. sometimes. i TRY to remember i’m SOMETIMES better off not saying anything. sometimes.
and then…there are the other times.
ya know what i mean?
*****
read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING
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whoa!
i have opened so many boxes, so many bins. i have done so many loads of laundry – tiny garments – all freshened and stacked on the dining room table. there is still much to be done.
every single thing i touch is a memory. tiny onesies and fuzzy sleepers, footie pajamas and oshkosh overalls, polly flinders dresses and itty-bitty jeans, socks and booties way smaller than my hand.
i was almost at the bottom of one of the dark blue plastic bins. right underneath the storage-safe-plastic-encased christening gown was the last layer. rattles and small hand toys, the smallest keds you’ve ever seen, stride-rite firsties and this teething ring.
it wasn’t just the teething ring, but it certainly contributed to it. i was overwhelmed with a wave of nostalgia – wistfulness at its most tear-inducing. i stood staring at it, wondering what to do with it. naturally, this is not something you pass on. this is not something that you necessarily put in your keepsake box, either. but the power of it…
so i laid it on the worn basement floor – in the middle of the laundry room – the same laundry room that washed all these clothes from the time my children were born to this very day – when they are all grown up – that i am going through their infant and toddler clothes – and i took a picture.
and when i gather together all of these clothes – seeming mountains of clothing – to donate to a mission in chicago that gives people items they need for their families – for free – my heart will be full, thinking of other babies and children wearing these outfits that elicit so many memories and so much love.
and i know that someday the moms (or dads) who receive this clothing will also be paring down and passing down to others. and something will stop them in their tracks. maybe tiny booties, maybe a bib or the teeniest sleeper, maybe little leggings and a floral tunic, maybe a smocked dress or a little baseball slugger hat. whatever it is, they will stare at it, surprised at its potency, grateful for its memories. like me, they may take a picture. like me, they may utter words of thanks. and then, like me, they will place it in a stack and pass it on.
*****
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the spaceship hasn’t arrived and i am still – the tiniest little smidgiest iota of a bit – procrastinating. not entirely, but yes…enough. i’m wondering if there is such a thing as an estate sale while you are still alive and well and living in the house.
more so, i am trying to figure out which of the items in the house “spark joy” and which are me trying to hold too tightly onto those “items that trigger memories but which i can dispose of without losing the memories”. yiiiiiiiikes.
this is a process.
it requires prep and thoughtful introspection, gearing up and gearing down, a camera and stoic ruthlessness.
i am approaching ruth – but i still have to get to less and ness, so there’s a little time left.
but it’s happening.
yup.
*****
read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING
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on the cusp.
tomorrow it is likely i will throw out every underwire, save one or two. i have had it. i will no longer participate in whatever torturous intention with which underwire bras were invented. done. i am convinced they are caveman mentality – with agonizing pain at its center. not one to be a prima donna about such things, i have endured – for years…no! for decades – the excruciating pain that is an underwire brassiere. i have not sought a solution until recently, when i decided i could no longer engage in the absurd wire-them-up behavior.
some chick named marie tucek invented the precursor to the underwire bra – a breast supporter that was an upgrade from a corset – good heavens! – so that we could all have “defined shape and additional support”. it’s a device. i am pondering as i write this why such a sensitive area of our bodies needs a metal device poking at it. as a woman who does not need “additional support” i am not sure that anything could provide me the “defined shape” of the idyllic american breast. for heaven’s sake, this is all insane! and so, i have finally jumped on the wirelesswagon, having asked for informant help from my sister, my nieces, my dear friend.
we shopped the other day. the older women trolling the bra department eyed david at my elbow, leering at him as if he were some sort of bra ogre, lingerie department lingerer, foundations fiend. he was stalwart, though, and stayed by my side as i sorted through hangers and sought out correct sizing. he was patient as i planted myself in the fitting room, ready for bra-war. trying on bras is trying on bathing suits to the exponential power. you out there know what i mean.
so there are wireless bras pretty much for everything…the lightly lined comfort, the no side-effects, the t-shirt, the super soft, the lift, side-smoothing, back-smoothing, non-banding, cloud-like… it is the TGI friday’s menu of bras. wayyy too many to choose from and slightly confusing. not to mention slightly terrifying. because – once you have purchased and worn this $42 miraclebreastholder, it is yours-yours-yours. and there are no take-backs, regardless of whatever bra-mistake you might have made. so this is a big decision, particularly if you are thrifty. and freedom isn’t free, as they say.
i guess my point here though, is that my new year will have at least one amazing and positive new difference. wire-free, i will walk in the world, smiling more and knowing that i will not have little black and blue marks on my body from my feminine undergarment.
and that, my friends, is something to celebrate.
*****
read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING
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reverse threading 