Sunday, April 28, 2013


i am constantly on the lookout for the moment.
the laughter that sounds like metal bells, the smile you simply cannot stop.
it is the painting that makes you feel like changing your clothes, the song that sits like a breeze on your wrist.

there are a lot of failings in my day to day it seems. the menu that didn't get cooked, the budget spreadsheet that looks much more like a rainbow than a pasture.

i am always wishing for the pasture, it seems. sitting on top of a mountain of dirt, unsure how to plant.


i am having trouble reconciling this space with the words i want to write. see, my children are getting to the point (my daughter especially) where her experiences are not mine to share. and, in part, my reaction to them is not mine to share, either. i, of course, have things to say that don't immediately revolve around my children but those things are increasingly rare, it seems. perhaps this is normal with small children in the home. when my free time basically is taken up with work and tasks and mindless nothing. perhaps i really am one of those women who has nothing to speak of outside my children.

(this is not true, of course. but it feels so at times. and therefore, to me, sometimes it is.)


i used to take a lot of pride in things i really had no control over. things like great skin on my legs (no marks, perfectly smooth, even tone.) now, my legs are riddled with years, creased and worn like a well used map. there are roadways and railways and bodies of water hidden just under the surface and they no longer look like a young girl. you see where i'm going here. 
this is one of those moments when you cradle your legs between your shoulders and you thank them for the years they have provided you with vanity. you sit in the ditch on the side of the road between understanding the meaning of beauty and just plain not giving a fuck and you hold out your thumb to strangers thinking that maybe you will either be harmed or saved.

these are the moments i'm talking about.


  1. your post today is exactly why i hope you don't stop writing here.

    i think you'll also find a balance between protecting your children and respecting their privacy, and also capturing moments that you want to remember.

    and lord, i can speak volumes about noticing the things that happen as i age. and wishing that i didn't notice, (or fracking care), so much.

  2. Aha moments...Your life is indeed interchangable with the kids right now. The thing is this post proves one thing - no matter what is going on in your life, you continue to philosophise about life in general. There will always be words dispersed throughout our days, in silent thoughts, and in heartfelt moments. Once in a while the words will come together and come spilling out. When that happens there will be someone reading who gets the message underlying the tapestry of those words and they'll have their aha moment.

    I do understand wondering how many words are left to tell. I spent this past year lost in a wordless kind of grief myself. We can't stop our hearts from spilling truths as we see them. (Hugs)Indigo

  3. You have such a gift for words... I hope you don't stop blogging, although I respect why you'd start to back off from posting about the kiddos. But you, YOU - have so much to say and offer to this world, just in the way you see it and put it into words, a way that not a lot of other people have.

    I hope you keep blogging. The world needs words and ideas like yours.

  4. Just last night I had a moment of looking at my own legs and wondering when that vein on my calf began to bloat like that, when the purple mark appeared and where the hell did that scar come from? Once a girl who loved sundresses, now I am a woman who shops for leggings. *sigh*

  5. I used to take pride in my feet. I thought they were the best part of me. Ugh, not now! I am laughing/amazed because I was at dinner the other night with friends and this idea for a book came up. The title is to be "The Moment" if it ever gets off the ground...and we already have volume two and three planned. Serendipity, no?

  6. Having this exact moment about writing about Frieda. As she turns 6 her stuff is very much becoming her stuff, I'm feeling a need to respect that in my bloggy space.
    I've just finished Flight Behavior - Barbara Kingsolver, have you read it? Her insights into mothering smalls is exceptional - honest and real. I loved it.


use your kind words.