I’m finding it hard to write lately. I guess you’ve figured that out since you guys are still stopping by and surely saying, "What the hell?"
I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s just too much stuff rumbling around in my head for me to be able to organize it into a neat, well-written, witty blog entry. So instead, you get this.
Weekend before last, I went to Atlanta with Camille and stayed with Anna. We shopped and shopped. We went to the children’s museum, which Camille loved. We tried to sleep in on a rainy morning, but Camille didn’t cooperate. I went to at least four bead shops, a yarn store, Perimeter Mall, and IKEA. I finally figured out why IKEA can sell you anything. They lay out the store like a video game in which you get completely and utterly sucked in and then subsequently lost and distracted. You find yourself shopping for things and rooms you never even dreamed of because they have trapped you in “Work Rooms” when all you really wanted to shop for was “Kitchen Wares.” But isn’t that the cutest desk organizer you ever seen! And by the time I get to check-out, I’ve got to cough up my first born just to get back to my car.
I liked being in Atlanta. I like big cities with endless food and shopping choices. I like seeing the actual store fronts of the catalogs that litter my coffee table. Perhaps it comes from growing up in a very small town, in a time before the internet, during which time, if you needed something the slightest bit eccentric, you were just SOL! If you know me at all, you know that most of what I desire is totally eccentric, so I spent many years frustrated beyond belief. At least now I can order whatever I want off the net, if I can part with the money for the shipping. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from shopping in person for things, which obviously just do not exist. Anna accuses me of trying to stare into being the object for which I am searching. No, it’s just years of practice in not finding it.
I left Camille with Anna on Sunday, knowing that they would both be home on Tuesday evening. So I drove back Sunday night, all by myself. I went to sleep in the house ALL BY MYSELF. I’m trying to think. I know I haven’t spent a night alone since Camille was born, and so this was the first time in over three years that I have been totally alone. It was creepy…for about five minutes, and then it was calming, very calming. I slept, worked, ate, wrote, created and read without being interrupted. I think that is the thing I miss the most, the ability to focus, to finish a task without being interrupted 60 times a minute. When I started nursing school a few years ago, it was popular to get a prescription for Ritalin or something like it so one could focus and study harder. Being curious and of course wanting to do well in school, I tried it. I couldn’t see the difference. I would listen to my study group go on and on about how much better they could focus and stay on task while taking the Ritalin. I am naturally focused, to a fault. When I get something in my head, it takes on a life of its own. It’s hard for me to put it down, whether it’s an idea, a problem, or a task. I remember many days before children that I would walk into a closet or room in the morning and decide right there and then that this needed cleaning and organizing. Fast forward to 10pm that night and I would still be in my pajamas with boxes for Good Will and the trash and a beautifully organized room, however neglected the rest of the days agenda. But then came kids. Children don’t let you do that. I try. Oh, do I try. But instead, I get two minutes into something and lo and behold someone wants something to eat. Eat? You want food? But I’m about to reorganize the gardening tools and fertilizers in the shed. I’ve just pulled everything out! I can’t stop now! But I do, and if I’m lucky, I may get enough time to throw out a couple of things while putting everything back into the shed, still not organized, but now urgently calling me in the middle of the night or shower, nudging me, reminding me of tasks undone. I’ve been a parent for 12 years and I still don’t like that part of it.
Wednesday, I went to see a friend’s new baby. Very sweet! Really enjoyed holding her and feeling that little baby heat that builds up in your arms. She’s such a gentle soul and I felt she was right at home with her new family. Thanks for that gift. I really needed it.
This past weekend was hard. Work was hard, news from family was hard, being without Anna was hard. Feelings keep surfacing and demanding attention. I try to keep a balancing act. It’s one I haven’t perfected yet, despite years of practice. (I think if one has lessons to learn in each life, I’ve been a slow learner this go ‘round as I find myself saying “years of practice” quite often.) One word that keeps coming to mind is compassion. Compassion for myself, when I feel exposed and judged and dissected. But on the other side is “fight.” Fighting for what is right, fair and what should be. It did help today to watch the movie Double Jeopardy with Ashley Judd. My favorite quote, “I gotta hand it to ya honey, it's just sheer hate driving you on.”
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