Dancing

I've been dancing through this week.
Flitting about from project to project, completing nothing and enjoying everything.
Well, almost everything.

Paintbrushes
Fabric
Laundry
Strawberries
Fireworks
Pasta
Squishy peaches
Mashed potatoes with gravy
Diaper changes
Naps
Giggles
Ikea chocolate bars
Chocolate cake for every meal
Splashes of bath water
Missing my husband till it kind of hurts
Missing him till it really hurts
Hoping the days would go by faster
Really good friends
Sonic shakes
Kneaders french toast
Dishes
More Ikea chocolate
More friends
Walks with the stroller and my sleepy boy

The dance steps were a little awkward at times but I'm pretty sure I managed to avoid smashing any toes.  I'm certain I would do better with a dance partner.

Five Minute Friday: Risk

I am taking a risk. 
I have really enjoyed this time of my life.  This time with Ben.  This time of cuddling and cooing and being a mommy.  The mom that I didn't really think I would get the opportunity to be.  But here I am.  Enjoying.  Capturing.  Loving.

and then...

Will he be an only?  Is there more?  Will my little Benjamin have a little someone to play with and laugh with and fight with and be best friends with?

Do we start trying?  Again.
Will it take us back to the doctor?  Will it cost us money that we don't have?  Will it matter?

Since nothing was explained about our infertility situation, I still feel lost in the unknown.  I wanted an answer.  I wanted to know why things didn't work on their own.  On our own. 

Now.  Do we try again and see if we just needed this jump start?
Do we try again and have it take right off?
Do we try again and have the same heartbreaking situation as last time?
Can I really handle that now?

I want my son to have a playmate.  Someone to hide under the covers with and tell stories with and go on adventures with.  I want to hear dual laughter coming from the bedroom late at night.  I want him to be the one that can make his little brother or sister laugh the most.

Expectations

Why does "Great Expectations" always pop into my mind when I think of expectations?

I expect a lot from life.  Mostly from myself.  And quite a bit from David.  We've talked about my expectations before.  Whether they are too much to handle or just enough to push one to grow.  To move forward.  To better oneself.

We didn't come up with an answer.  Or rather I didn't.  David is from a kinder bolt of cloth than I am.

I sometimes find that I push my expectations on others.  Well, maybe not push them, but judge them through my set of standards; through what I expect from myself.  Too often I forget that I don't usually meet my own expectations.  Too often I forget that everybody's life is different.  Every set of trials, blessings, life lessons... are different. 

When I remember, then I can let go of certain expectations.  Mostly.  Sometimes it doesn't work so well.  I do try though.

Perspective

I'm tired of looking at things so closely. 

Too many details can be overwhelming. 

Too many hopes can be crushing. 

It takes time

 and effort

and energy

 that I don't have anymore

to dwell on things that don't really matter. 

I want to see more of the big picture. 

I want to stand back. 

Gain perspective. 

Realize that the dark spot that I've been trying to figure out

 is part of a much grander picture than I've been allowing myself to see. 

Realize that focusing on the dark spot

has hindered my ability to see the bright things around me. 

The things that give life rather than drain it.

I want to let go.

Of unrealistic expectations

irritation

 the need to "keep up".

I want to be able to breath again.

To drink from the cup of life more fully.

To love more fully.

To laugh more fully.

To create.

I want to look around me and see the good.

5-Minute Friday: Identity

Identity.

How I have identified myself keeps changing.  I used to keep a list of "who I am" around just so that when I forgot I could remember a bit more easily.  It said things like: woman, sister, runner, reader, piano-player, hiker, laugher, etc.  Sometime the list contained what was true, sometimes it was what I wished I could be, like pirate, or sky-diver.

I haven't done an identity list in quite awhile.  Is it odd that I'm a little scared to do it?  That perhaps all that has changed in my life has made me too much of a different person?  That perhaps some of the very things that I loved about myself have disappeared?

I used to love my independence.  My ability to be okay going out to a restaurant or a movie all by myself.  I liked to hike in the mountains alone with my thoughts.  There is still some of that in me, but the need for it has changed.  Alone used to be my saving grace.  The time to realign my thoughts, my priorities.  To make sense of the crazy that was happening or not happening in my life.

Now?

Now I'm not sure. I still like alone time, but I don't seem to need it as much as I used to.  I enjoy it thoroughly, but when it's the choice between spending some quality time with the men in my life and going for a drive by myself, I'll take the quality time.  If it's a choice between sneaking out for a quick walk while David bathes Ben, I'll take the walk.  Well, most of the time.  Sometimes it's just too cute to see my man and my little man together and all happy.  They do my heart good.  They help keep my priorities straight.

So who am I?  How would I identify myself?

Mother, daughter, lover, wife, laugher, story-teller, smiler, diaper-changer, smile-getter, woman, writer, reader, laundress, cook, maid, all-day-pj-wearer, Latin-hip-mover-impaired, killer-pasta-salad maker, friend, family member, church goer, seeker of fun, seeker of peace, movie watcher, exerciser etc. etc. etc.

How's your identity these days?

5-Minute Friday: Real

I don't know what's real.
I've sat down at this computer and tried to let the words flow.
I've tried to write about what is real.
But I can't seem to do it.
Nothing is coming but frustration.
Hmmm.

Writers block is real
Laundry is real
Dishes are real
Trying to find something for dinner is real
Deadlines are real
Bedtime is real

My lack of time is real.

What's real for you?

Five-Minute Friday (on Saturday): Community

This one hurts my heart a little.  Community is something I like. Something to be a part of. Something that I have been delighted to have in my corner of the world.  So when things start to interrupt that community, like "For Sale" signs in front of homes... it hurts my heart.

I thought it would be just a little.  But it turns out to be more than I thought.  So my dear friend whom I want to support, whom I want to be there for, whom I want to cheer on through thick and thin... know that I will still do that.  I just have to get over the glaring "For Sale" sign in the front yard.  I have to get over my desire to go and steal it in the middle of the night.  I have to get over my urge to clutter up my own yard and blare loud music should potential buyers come around so that no one will want to have us as neighbors and then you'll just be stuck here so that I can selfishly have you across the cul-de-sac at all times.

Community.  Not just about me is it.

Together

I'm trying to get things together.

Together is sometimes hard.

Together forever.

Together for the here and now.

Together for at least 5 minutes.

What does it mean exactly?

Same opinions?

Same goals?

Same place?

Different but the same.

That's my together.

Complimentary.

Stretching.

Opening the mind.

Together in heart.

Together in spirit.

Together in soul.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
5-minute Friday

Good-Bye

I hate good-byes.  Hate.

They are never fun.  At least the real good-byes.
The kind that mean real change.
The kind that take you away from people, places, and things.

Last week was one of good-bye.
I quit my job.
The job that I have had in some degree for almost 6 years.
The job that has put me through hell at times and had me flying higher than a kite at others.
It's not the job that I have a hard time saying good-bye to though.
It's the people.

The people that make me laugh.
The people that laugh at me.
The people that genuinely care about me.
The people that I genuinely care about.

It's those kind of good-byes that are hard and awkward.
The kind that I pretend that I don't have to do.
That kind that sometimes I really don't do... even though it really is Good-Bye.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This was a Gypsy Mama 5-Minute Friday prompt and couldn't have been more appropriate.

Light

Light is in my heart today
It started yesterday at church

We got to bring Benjamin to church for the first time and he did so very well.  He cooed in his sleep and gave those sleepy half closed eyes smiles

That was the beginning of the light

Then the choir sang.  "Come Unto Jesus"
As the first acapella notes floated over the congregation and next to me
I struggled to keep my eyes from filling up with tears
My heart was full
My heart was light

Relief Society brought more
The lesson was music
Music that speaks to you and me
Testimony music
My choice was "For the Beauty of the Earth"
It's always made my heart happy

As we sang hymn after hymn after hymn
There was more light in my heart
I imagined that if it could, it would shoot out of the ends of my fingertips

It carried over through today
My heart truly is light

Gift

Life is a gift.
As I sit here at my laptop that's on its last leg and think of the bills that need to be paid, the things that need to be saved for, the car that needs to be replaced and the one that needs to be serviced...the unexpectedness of life... its seems the last thing that would be associated with these things is the word gift.

A neighbor stopped by a couple of days ago for a visit with her girls.  She asked how I was doing, how the little one was doing, and then we just chatted.  As we talked about life and plans for the future I was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of gifts that have been given to me.  Not the obvious baby gifts, but the more lasting gifts.   The ones that don't seem like gifts at first.  Like the gift of a failed plan.  The gift of broken will.  The gift of a failed adoption.  The gift of infertility.  The gift of cut hours.  The gift of a part time job.

I know, none of those seem like gifts, but we have been so very blessed because of those very things.  There are people my life that I wouldn't have known otherwise.  Activities that I have come to love that wouldn't have happened.  Even the home that I live in and the neighbors that come with it are a gift.  Unexpected.  Unplanned for.  Most assuredly a gift.

Loud

 

Everything is loud in the morning 
Everything
The smallest wimper
The lightest breath
The ticking of the clock
The slight snore coming across the pillow

Even my thoughts are loud

It's all loud because the morning is when I'm the most tired
The morning is what comes after a long night of little sleep
It's all loud because I'm trying to sneak in a few more quality minutes of blissful slumber
It doesn't happen often
The slumber part

But I can continue trying
right?

~~~~~
This post brought to you by the gypsy mama who posts a 5-minute Friday prompt.  Since I rarely am on time with anything, you just get what you get.