Unearthing... Me.

A disclaimer: These posts are going to be for me. I'm not considering an audience as I write these. But you are welcome here, and I hope, if you're in survival mode too, you can take something from my unearthing and sift through your own debris.



Is it motherhood that wears you thin? Like favorite pajamas. Comfortable but threadbare and see-through (and not in a good way).

Or is it just adulthood? I've read so many articles, blogs, books lately that seem to think it's motherhood.

Could be.

But I think it's adulthood. The ubiquitous combination of responsibilities that careen you into survival mode.

Survival mode. That's where I've been. Functioning. Just barely. Far, FAR from living.

Far from experiencing joy or even pain. Emotions, while trying to survive, are extraneous and inefficient.

I'm starting to sift through the layers of debris. Years of misleading and hurtful self-affirmations. I'm starting to remember what it means to be me: unique and -- I'll say it -- beautiful me.

Even writing that I'm beautiful creates a sense of repulsion in me. I've abhorred arrogance and inflated egos since I've noticed those attributes in others. So I made every attempt to not embody arrogance myself. I've gone the opposite direction, and instead, berated my physical appearance most of my life.

Carl Jung wrote, "Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to a better understanding of ourselves."

Funny thing is, I'm a first-born know-it-all. I still possess arrogance and pride but only in my opinions and knowledge. And no, I don't know any more useless information than the average know-it-all. I'm not a genius and usually, these days, I have a hard time holding a semi-coherent intellectual (or basic, everyday) conversation. Survival mode, I tell you.


Here's another Carl Jung quote for you: "What did you do as a child that made the hours pass like minutes? Herein lies the key to your earthly pursuits."

In trying to unearth who I actually am, I mean, in all reality, who I am absolutely meant to be without the barriers that I've created for myself, I'm going to try to remember who I knew I was as a girl.

What memories from my childhood evoke the strongest emotions in me?

-- Playing in the woods with Parker and Tyler, making up Civil War and Native American stories: Heartaching nostalgia for a past I never experienced.

-- Digging for buried treasure in a red dirt pile: Humming energy of possible discovery -- and absolute belief that we would find something.

-- Creating "rivers" in said red dirt pile: Learning/discovery while watching the way water found paths to the low ground

-- Drawing house plans and outfits: Concentration and desire. Knowledge of what I liked and who I wanted to become when I got older -- stylish with a beautiful home (usually with a portico in the center of the house). I desired these things not for the approval of others but for satisfaction in myself alone.

-- Writing stories in school (and being told I'm good at it): Satisfaction and pride in a completed story -- before I analyzed sentence structure and my audience and their approval ad nauseum

-- Feeding cows hay through the fence: affinity/kinship with animals and a desire to take care of them

-- Picking strawberries from Mama Jo and Paw Paw's garden: Wonder at the development of strawberries from small green to white to red

-- Playing in Mama Jo's basement -- discovering "antiques": Creating stories about how the "antiques" came to be there and the vast sums of money they were worth

-- Listening to family histories and stories with Grandma Amma and Jodie: I felt that it was my duty to listen and let them tell me their stories. I wanted them to experience the nostalgia of the past and have the satisfaction of having a young child/descendent listen.

-- Climbing magnolia tree: Freedom and awe at what my body could accomplish

-- Losing birthday balloon: Absolute, terrible loss of something that I was so proud to have in my possession. The balloon was proof that my father loved me.

-- Cutting the grass at Oak Grove: Quiet, uninterrupted daydreaming

-- Week at Rock Ridge camp: Still might be the worst week of my life. Complete knowledge that there were unseen, opposing forces at work in the world that would always try to convince me that my convictions were not right. Total darkness of thought and emotion.

-- When Emmaus was hit by lightning and burned: An intense awe of nature, the excitement of danger, and afterwards, a feeling of loss for the history and a sympathy for my grandparents at their loss.

-- Karate chopping Grandma Amma's old house down: Strength. Power. Knowledge that my body could do anything I wanted it to. (We didn't know the house was pretty much rotting away.)



I am thankful for: washing little boy and big boy clothes. I am thankful to have a big boy (Zeb) and a little boy (Finn) to wash clothes for. (Folding the clothes and putting them away is another story altogether.)

Finn's First Camping Trip

We had a great time, and Finn did great. He didn't want to go to sleep Friday night, but he slept through the night. And he loved running around and picking up pinecones, sticks and rocks. He was one dirty, sleepy kiddo by the time we got home.

17 Months!

Wow. Really. Where does time GO?

Today, Finn is 17 months old. I can't believe it. It's bittersweet, I tell ya.

He:

-- runs and twirls like a mad man.
-- says "bless you!" after anyone (including himself) sneezes.
-- says "the end! bye book!" when we finish reading a book.
-- is enthralled, ENTHRALLED, by sticks, rocks, bark, all those outdoor things.
-- stands on Franklin to reach things.
-- thinks my colander is a hat.
-- loves nothing more than to be on Zeb's shoulders or in the hiking backpack walking through the woods exploring.
-- is 75% in height for his age and 50% for weight.
-- has all of his chompers except for the last set of molars.
-- likes to rip my little herb plants out of their pots by the roots.
-- mimics almost everything we say. Even if he's hesitant about it.

Words he says:
-- Bye!
-- Hey, Mama! Hey, Daddy!
-- Thank you!
-- Please!
-- Welcome!
-- Daddy work.
-- Raccoon
-- Bear
-- Horse
-- Fish
-- Duck
-- A COW!
-- Deer
-- Fork (which doesn't sound a lot like fork)
-- Bowl
-- Spoon
-- Crackers
-- 'Nana (for banana)
-- Nana (for my mom)
-- Mema (for Zeb's mom)
-- Pop (for my dad)
-- Papa (for Zeb's dad)
-- Hey, Brek! (My parents' dog)
-- Ah-chey (for Aunt Rachel)
-- Duck (for Luke)
-- Selah
-- George (for the Curious George that Luke gave him)
-- Elmo (relentlessly)
-- Milk
-- Cup
-- Meat
-- Cheese
-- No, no! (He gets onto himself when he knows he's doing something wrong.)
-- Wawa (for water)


These are what I can think of right now, but he pretty much makes an attempt to say everything. Whether it's understandable or not.

I'm thankful for him every single day.

Svelte-ish.

It's time to brag on myself.

I'm down to 138 pounds! The lowest I've been in my adult life is 135. (But I was kinda flabby then.)

I've gone from a size 12 to a size 6 (skinny jeans!) in three months. That's ridiculous!

And on another note, I have the most energy I've had since adolescence. And the least digestive issues that I've had, well, ever. I feel wonderful. 

Hooray, Paleo!

(If you're interested in trying out the Paleo lifestyle, let me know and I'll send you some pointers.)

Ten Months!

How BIG does this boy look?!?

"There's a belly button under there somewhere."

"Wha'sdat?"

Giving Zeb's creepy old monkey CPR.

If you think it's weird that Finn's playing with an ox hoof, that's because it IS weird. It's a mate  (pronounced mah-TAY) cup that Zeb brought back from his travels in Uruguay.

To give you an update on our boy, Finn:

-- has eight teeth!

-- likes to dance (bounce).

-- barks like our dogs (while bouncing up and down for some reason).

-- stands up by himself for a couple of seconds at a time, gets freaked out, and slooowly lowers himself onto the floor.

-- shakes his finger at me when I get on to him (which is a habit we will be breaking).

-- is a speed demon. Non-stop, this one.

-- eats pretty much anything you put on his tray, and then feeds Franklin the rest.

-- loves to pull ornaments off the Christmas tree.

-- says "Daddy," "Mama" (when he wants a bottle), "Nananana," "Heeeey!," "Bah-bah" (for "bye-bye), "wha'sdat?" (mostly while pointing at the light or fan), "dat," and "dis."

There's just so much going on in that little brain of his. It's clear that he's learning (and listening) everyday. He mimics sounds and pitches almost identically. Which means... Mama's learning to watch her mouth. :)

Bowling Pin Onesie by Margaret!

Abroad

I'm thankful that I know what Venice smells like and what cold, wet jeans feel like above water-logged wellies. I'm thankful for warm espresso in November.

I'm thankful that I had warm wool coats with hoods and knitted toboggan hats when I lived in New York. I'm thankful that our apartment was always warm and inviting. I'm thankful that the smell of hot chocolate and the sounds of friends were not strangers to us there.

I'm thankful to know what the Isle of Skye looks like on a sunny November day -- the kind of day that lets you take off your jacket and feel the freedom of just a t-shirt and a cardigan. I'm thankful that I have seen miles of beauty in the lochs and glens.

I'm thankful that I have eaten gelato on a cold December day in Siena, Italy. I'm thankful that I have walked its hills and alleys, if only for one day.

I'm thankful for travel. The smells, the tastes, the cold and the warmth. And the friends. I'm so, so thankful for the friends that accompany these travel memories.

Little Dragon (cont'd)

Happy Halloween!

Finn with cousin Isaiah the Parrot

On the go

Finn with Mama Jo and me (He liked waving his claws.)

Rawrrr!

"I don't know about that singin' gorilla, Mama."

Poking cousin Holt the Frog in the eye.

Rawrr, again. With Grandmommie, Grandaddy, and Pop

Our little dragon did great and loved his first Halloween. He especially loved the animal crackers that his Grandmommie gave him!

Wish we could've seen everybody, but I hope these photos will suffice!