your one wild & precious life

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there are so many times that i’m going through everyday motions and i think to myself “this is bullshit.” why are there so many time sucks in life? why do we force ourselves to spend so much time doing things we don’t want to do, that we abhor to do? this happens while i’m doing chores or find myself spending too much time on facebook during a gorgeous day. or paying bills. or when i’m chucking useless possessions into the donate pile.

i’ve been thinking critically about my life goals lately and a funny thing has happened; i’ve realized just how fucking awesomely lucky i am. if you would have asked me a year ago i would have thrown myself a pity party but today i realize i have trusted in my path and have a life that is exactly what i want.

i can never go and sit behind a desk again. i can never take a full-time job to just make sure i’m getting the life markers checked off. because i don’t care about those things. i don’t care if i ever own a house. i don’t care if we ever own more than one vehicle. i don’t care about our material gain in this world. i really don’t. i care about making the most of this one wild & precious life.

i have a lot of freedom in my life right now, more than i’ve given myself credit for in the past. i’m free to spend everyday with my wild girl and that means more to me than anything money could buy. i have a promising career in a field that i passionately love. i’ve come to terms that it will come with a salary sacrifice but fortunately i’m ok with that. any fool can get a job and make money. it takes a courageous soul to confidently pursue her dream. my needs are met. my desires are mine to pursue. my cup runneth over.

i’m so lucky to have my girl as a reminder to move through my world in pursuit of what i want from my life. children don’t innately operate according to what they “should” do in life. they do what they want. THEY DO WHAT THEY WANT! why can’t we give that gift to ourselves in the way our children already do?

so i hope you’ll continue to check in with me because imma just be here doin’ my do. i’ll be doing what i want. and i want to do more of this:

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^^^ holding my daughter the way i used to when she was a baby while she dozes ever so briefly.  letting her paint, chalk, draw and generally art up her body in any way that amuses her at the moment.  encouraging her to climb.  taking the sunny days to spend outdoors.  and plaiting flowers into my girl’s hair.  ^^^

it really is that great, when i let it be. and i can let it be.

weekending

cool things…we do them sometimes.

here are some pics from junctionview’s last hurrah. darla was a superstar in the balloon room. so sad that a place this cool, within our walking distance, will be turned into a parking lot or a road or condos for happenin’ 60 year-olds or something of that lot. sad me.

but we had a good time there on saturday seeing friends, listening to some impressive local bands, and taking in some really very talented works. darla would like me to note that her favorite part was the cookie we bought her and the dolls with skulls as heads. of course…

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^^^ and some way sweet pics darla took of me ^^^

she’s obsessed with dead people

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ummm, can i talk to you guys about this?

my daughter has this book memorized. it’s kinda freaking me out. she chose this book at the library almost 2 weeks ago. she disappeared into the stacks for a minute and then came running out, hair wild, yell-talking “WE HAVE TO GET THIS!” and shoved this in my face. how could i argue with that? she also demanded we get a book about day of the dead, halloween poems and beowulf.

yes, my daughter is reading 10th grade lit.

now, all these books have been extremely wonderful. she chose some more normal things like greek mythology, ali baba and the 40 thieves and something called the legend of ohio so i haven’t had to read only dark literature to her for the past two weeks but it brings me to something that has been haunting (literally but in that figurative way) our lives for the past 2.5 years.

my daughter is obsessed with dead people.

you may now understand why i try to push artistic outlets for her as much as i do. we’ve got to have some kind of direction for the macabre in this household or else she’s just going to turn into a goth and we all know that besides chris angel and dave navarro no goth person has ever had that much of a promising future. and i think those guys were kinda fringe anyway and yeah, those examples really just sum up my point.

an artist who is obsessed with dead people has a very promising future. all other interested parties just turn goth. so we’re pressing for artist here, people, or possibly mortician.

ghosts were her first repetitive subject for drawing. she broadened it to “dead guys” soon thereafter and i’ve been told numerous times over the years “ghosts and dead guys are my friends.”  does this also explain a little about the tent bed, too?

she used to tell me she saw them all the time. she would climb up on our toilet and look out the bathroom window in our old house, which was in a very old part of town, and say “yep, he’s there again today.”  i finally asked her about it after it had gone on for over a week and what she described to me was a man who had been hanged from a tree. she was only 2.5 years old and didn’t even know that was what she was describing so sometimes I tend to believe her on this. Oh, there was the time that it had been raining for almost a week straight and she then asked me “mom, why is his body all puffed up now?”  apparently ghost bodies react to current weather conditions.

what i’m getting at is that we’ve been walking this road to the dark arts for a few years now. (yes, that is a harry potter reference because our horizons have broadened to anything involving magic, wizardry, witches, mystical beings, fairies or the like. and hobbits. lots of hobbits.) i wish i could say i’m flabbergasted by it but i’m not because i was the same way when i was younger.

i once formed a club in my elementary school devoted to turning all the 3rd grade girls into witches. i would make my friends lie down on the ground while i conducted rituals to lift their souls out of their bodies and then we would all sit around and oooh and ahhh at their souls floating 6 feet above their bodies. the principal got word of our play and quickly put an end to my heyday as head of the waverly coven. when i was in the 9th grade the senior girls told me i dress like a witch. they thought they were dissing me but in my head i was all “score! finally…” {ps. this was due to a couple of times wearing a grey a-line, knee-length skirt with my combat boots. it was a boss match up but definitely not that witch-like. they were just THAT dumb.}

so i guess we’re just in this space where my daughter is really invested in something that might be termed “socially abnormal” but i’m going with the flow because i’ve been there. if she wants to check out books on mummies, ghosts, witches and goblins then i’m all for it because she’s really invested in learning about this subject matter. who am i to squash this? learning about mummies has broadened her horizons to egyptian culture. my 4-year-old knows how to pronounce paankehnamen. do you?  i’m sure someday she’s going to take it a little too far and start a small scale cult or something but at least i’ll have the previous life experience to understand and be cool about it instead of feeling i need to step in and direct her liferiver’s course.

and, as previously stated, i’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep her from going goth. since subversion is a main principle of that i’m thinking we’ll just keep this freak flag waving out there in the open.

solid plan. yep.

you should or should not let your child dye herself blue

let me start by stating our household has a long history with food coloring. i made darla food color ice cubes to go in her baths about a year ago and well, we haven’t been able to have a week that goes by without a tinted bath since. if you can avoid starting this practice then you are smarter than i and deserve 10 parenting points.

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so we decided to dye our eggs yesterday – we dyed them without the shells this year because darla eats a dozen boiled eggs a week. that is an exaggeration. an EGGSageration if you will. anyway…

this activity:

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slowly devolved to this:

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and then this:

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this:

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and finally this:

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i think the breakdown came somewhere in between her asking “mom, can i paint my body?” and me answering “YES.”

It was an allowance that required a lot of time and soap to undo. I can’t say that i recommend it but on the other hand…it was a whole lot of hilarious. to me at least. i think hubster was a little less amused. i honestly asked him if we could leave her that way forever.

but i can’t help but hope that by responding positively to these crazy artistic whims of hers that i’ll be instilling some confidence in her that her own ideas are good ones. i’m hoping she’ll be learning something about support and believing in her inspirations. i hope. i’m hoping we’ll continue to experiment with her own independence and enacting her will on her world. i’m hoping this freedom will build her esteem and sense of self.

so that when all her peers are experimenting with mind altering drugs in high school because they have no other control over the decisions in their lives that she, MY daughter, will simply be experimenting with body paint.

or drugs AND body paint which is still way more ambitious than just drugs, right?

anyway, it turns out food dye doesn’t come completely off. i just dropped her off at school without so much as one word of explanation about her purple hands and feet.

they love me there. they do.

MILESTONE MARKER: she spells poop

as a fan of child-directed learning i’d like to take a post to commemorate the first word my daughter learned to read and spell on her own:

POOP.

D is 4 and in school so we’ve entered the phase of life where poop and pee and booty are funny words. you know that phase that starts at 4 and lasts the whole rest of your life? poop is funny always.

well, even though i’m trying to keep it real and be all “poop is cool” mom to her i have come up with a game that we play that i’m hoping will keep the potty mouth a little toned down in public. while i’m not the best example of a modest mouth {get it?} i would still like to raise her with an example that will at least leave it up to her own choice if she wants to go all surly and sailor mouth later on.

so we have a string of words that she’s allowed to use at home, whenever she wants and at any amount if she thinks it’s funny but only at home. we laugh about it and make up names like “poop lamp”, “fart table” , “tooty poopy chair poop.”  all of those were actually said by her during our last sesh.  the other morning she said “poop balloon” and since we happen to have balloons all over our floor {because our house is a magical circusland all the time} i wrote it on there and quizzed her to see if she knew how to spell it. she sounded it out, i wrote it, she read it and memorized it and can now recite it at any time. so now her vocabulary is up to two words, one of them being her own name.

with one post i just proved my brilliance as a parent and my daughter’s precocious reading aptitude that will surely take her all the way to the halls of harvard.

because poop is the equalizer, folks.

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^^^ the poop balloon ^^^

new parenting tactic

i was just thinking the other day “when am i going to be able to make a decision with this girl without arguing over it?”  darla has to contest anything and everything JUST BECAUSE. i try not to get to worried about it and let her have her say in the things she can { i.e. yes, you can have the green cup. no, you cannot wear your bathing suit to school } but it will just be nice when she no longer feels the need to argue to wear summer pjs in the winter and footie pjs in the summer.

i stumbled upon a new tactic: get her to argue about something new that she can win in the middle of the old argument. it worked 100% of the time that one time i tried it!

i will be reporting on the developments of this new parenting motto at a later date.

bedtime

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here’s this girl who made a bed for herself in our laundry basket. she’s trying to got to bed for the night at about 4pm. i have a new skill of getting her to bed, eager to go to bed, ASKING TO GO TO BED.  she has come to the age of being able to listen rationally now when we tell her she doesn’t sleep well and feel good in the morning if she goes to bed too late. she has nightmares sometimes and we’ve figured out if she goes to bed too late she gets them due to lack of sleep. once we explained to her that we should get to bed earlier so the nightmares won’t come, she’s been a more than willing bedtime partner.

a gentle scaring-your-children-to-bed never hurt. it feels so middle ages. so brother’s grimm.

full moon baby

i pulled out of the parking lot last night and onto the road. my first real look at the horizon revealed an absolutely stunning full moon on the rise. it was crimson turning golden and it was huge. a perfect round sphere and it seemed closer than i can recently remember.

i couldn’t help but think of the couple i had just witnessed become parents. i couldn’t help thinking about how similar that crimson sphere looks to the first glimpse of a new life pushing his way into the world. i couldn’t help thinking about how awesome it is to have your child born on the night of a gorgeous moonrise like that, having the celestial bodies sending their blessings. not that the new parents were viewing it. they had much more precious sights to behold.

but it was a moment of immense gratitude for me.

i sound really hippy dippy when i talk about birth. i get that. one of my clients told me recently i’m a little “new age-y.” i’ll take it. the thing is, i love birth work. i absolutely love it. it excites me and gets me closer to my deep love for humanity.  it makes me feel connected. yes, i do actually believe there is a connection between that new life, that courageous and strong mother, that supportive father and that beautiful full moon. i really do.

and let me tell you, if you can’t find that excitement for yourself about your birth then that may be why you need me. if you can’t see or feel the connectedness of it all then you really need me. this is not a call of judgement here. this is simply something i have to offer you and if you need help getting there, then i’m your gal.

party

yesterday was a reminder of how lucky we are to have such great friends and family. a small group helped us celebrate darla’s birthday. a large group helped us celebrate from afar by sending messages and well wishes, gifts & cards. thanks to you all.

here’s just a bit of our donut + coffee + cupcake decorating party. it took hardly any time to set up, even less to clean up and we listened to the first lady of country while we tore down. i’m never doing another veggie tray again. it’s coffee and donut birthday parties from here on out. until darla’s old enough to roller skate, that is. then….ohhhh then…let’s just say there will be some roller rink parties in our future. candy kiss photo candykiss_zpse930d69a.jpg

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