how hard is it?

The month of May is not for me. As usual, I got buried in work, birthdays, weddings, showers, graduations, illnesses, and I just zombie-walked through the whole thing.

Until yesterday, when I noticed it was June. When I noticed that the school year was over, that the schedule that never slowed down, suddenly stopped. Without a lot of hoping and counting down the days, the school year ended.

We said goodbye to our babysitter of two years. I said goodbye to some dear fifth grade readers. I said goodbye to a newly made friend. I said goodbye until my heart crashed to the ground, and I pulled over the car to sob. I mostly cried for me, I think. Because I have failed so much.

I failed Proust, I failed at 30 day yoga, I failed everything I tried. How hard is it? Can I try again? Can I just stop trying?

I'm not sure how to end this one. All I know is that it's June and I feel like if I could bake myself a cake, and lure my heart out into the open, I would apologize. I would say, "sorry for making this all so much harder than it really needs to be."

this baby was a baby

When I taught first grade we read this little story every year, An Egg is an Egg by Nicki Weiss. It's a simple, repetitive story. Easy to read. But hard to read. Because, it's about change. This post is inspired by the writing of Nicki Weiss and by my little girl's birthday.

An egg is an egg until it hatches and then it is a chick.
Nothing stays the same
Everything can change.
My little girl is now two. One was easy. One felt like thank god she's one and sleeps through the night. Thank god that scary wonderful year is over. But two? Oh, two is different.
This baby was a baby until she grew
and now she is a girl.
How much longer is she a baby? Every morning I greet her, and she's new. Every afternoon, I reunite with a new lovely stranger. She grows in every second.
But you can always be a baby
You will always be my baby.
Two feels like please let me gather up your small hands in mine. Two feels like let's press every moment into a book before it leaves us forever. One felt like regaining my footing. Two has turned me into a weeping fool.
Some things stay the same
Some things never change.
I don't know that part yet. I don't know the part that doesn't change. I see you growing so fast and I see me trying not to miss a thing. I see me missing lots of things. But I love you. I love you, I love you.
Some things stay the same
Some things never change.

happy birthday, beautiful.

one thing leads to another

I had a headache for a year.

It was about stress, anxiety, tension, and hunger. But mostly it was about pain and not taking care of myself. About a month ago, I went to a chiropractor. I know people are skeptical about this medical practice. I am too. But after two weeks, I didn't have a headache. And I felt my body waking up. I started to stretch. I felt the word heal in my heart.

Last year I tried to take a yoga class, but it didn't work. It was too hard to commit to a practice that pulled me away from my family for two hours every week. I need all of my practices to create peace and comfort, not tension. And I wasn't learning a daily yoga practice, I was just leaving my house to do yoga for an hour and then going home to the place where not-yoga happens.

So, I signed up for 30 days of yoga with Marianne Elliott. This is an online yoga sadhana (committed practice) that lasts for 30 days. She teaches through videos and e-mails. I really emphasize the word teaches. This isn't like following along with a yoga DVD that runs through the postures as fast as possible. The purpose of this teaching is that when you are done with the 30 day sadhana, you will be left with a daily practice. You can just do yoga, every day, before the baby gets up, before the day begins. Just get up, and do yoga in your quiet room. This is something I can do for myself, that doesn't require taking anything away from anyone in my family. This is a comfort.

My intention is to heal and my commitment is to try every day.

rain forest

Every summer, I would spend time with my cousins at my grandma's house. It was the best time I've ever had in my whole life. It was the joy of a week long sleepover, picking right up with best friends as if no time had passed at all, even though in fact, a year had passed.

Each summer we would go to the zoo and in particular the rain forest exhibit. I've been back since and it's pretty nice. But as a kid, to me it was not just an exhibit, it was The Rain Forest. And most importantly, it was a signpost in the large world of my childhood.

The summer I was ten, while visiting the rain forest with my cousins, I sat down on a bench and really noticed where I was. I remember clearly thinking, I am here. I will think of this all year and for the rest of my life, but right now, I am here.

Every once in awhile, I am able to notice that this life of ours, this short little burst, is a love affair.

"hold it" - my kid is cute

In the name of keeping this blog going while I finish up my paper, I am now going to tell Cute Kid Stories.

Ramona is pathologically fearful of loud noises. When she hears a loud noise outside she shouts, "elephants!" And these are not the friendly type elephants either. These are the kind that charge. She runs to me, grabs my leg and says, "it's okay".

She does these sweet little pat pats on my shoulder. She tells us "I yove you".

When she wants us to pick her up she says, "hold it".

A few weeks ago when we would ask her what her name was she would say, "mount". Now she includes what she is doing, like, "Monut eating yogurt!"

And she counts everything. two, nine, ten, eleven, eight. Today she diligently counted her peanut butter.

And in one week Monut will be two. (but she says she will be four, nine, ten, eleven, eight.)

the best moms of my generation

I might have blogger's block. I had hoped by now my paper would be done and I could get to the redemption part of my story. However, that is not the case and so I get scared every time I try to write. So, I'm going to just start throwing some small stories out there, because a blank blog hurts worse than a silly blog.

Small Story:

Conversation between Nova and Husband Brian this morning:

Nova: I'm like Allen Ginsberg. You know, like in Howl.
Brian: oh really.
Nova: Yes, all the best minds of my generations are being driven mad.
Brian: laughs....do you mean, like, just yours?
Nova: Nope, everyone I know is really crazy right now. It's not just me.

nothing, right now

I grasp with two hands. Lately I grasp with the hands I don't even have yet. This is not a resolve to postpone the writing of this blog until I have my paper written. This is not a resolve to take vitamins. Be a better Buddhist. Take better care of my skin. Write my words in a small notebook at the bottom of my purse. Write a blog post that tells you what's in my heart and asks what's in yours. This is not my resignation. This is not a new plan to maximize my productivity. This is nothing. I am a poet with no poems.