Humanity

January Jonesing.

  • I’m sharing a prompt series by Isabel Abbott today.
  • there is something in her own writing that makes me go and go and go. So here it is. And it will be.
  • I’ve changed the chair I sit and do nothing in, all this nothing I write, and for money too. The kids think I do nothing since I spend the day sitting. And there is the phone. But the chair… brought down the collection spot from my bedroom and now I am sitting entirely differently in the same exact spot. I worry I will not collect the 13 year old body the same way for our morning hug, but so much is changing, I could always move. And wouldn’t that be something…
  • My body has to shift again, to unpack its shape from what was, and re-align. My elbow presses against the armrest as I type now, and I wonder if I will need more pillowing. My humor can’t help but snigger at myself. more pillowing? me? Snicker, more than snigger. Such ugly sounds, both. I chose neither. And will chortle at myself instead. Imagine me now, in my new old chair, chortling as I type, all soft and squishy.
  • Its Wednesday. I was woken by the dog this morning, as usual, but since the kids are away, as usual, I took my time waking up. I rolled, I pet the dog, I peed. No hushed run down the stairs, no ‘they need their precious minutes’… and I carried a chair down the stairs. Someone, please, someone, notice. Tell me I did a good job. Tell me.  The silence echoes sometimes. And I’m just watery today.
  • I’ve got these two new plants that I splurged on last time I had splurge-will. Splurge is definitely relative. They are plants, after all. But I watch them every day, they are slow growers and only want indirect light, and I watch them sit in direct morning light and wonder if I am slowly killing them, or if they are happy for the challenge. Is there anything which hates the morning light? I mean, hate? For morning lights? What about me? Am I being slowly killed or happy for the challenge? Fuckingfuckingfucking.
  • I had my tattooed man, I did, so many months ago.  It was beautiful to touch his skin. And then no contact, and then ‘wanna fuck?’ and I chose differently. I can’t do that anymore. I’m an old woman somedays. I want more than the bodies.  Covid is aging me, aging me, aging me. This is a level of grownup I do not want, and only vaguely understand. Or maybe I just do not want him, or that. But both.
  • My toes are cold today. In the wild freedom of waking on my own schedule, I forgot socks. I put on an entire run of clean, real clothing and peed when I coughed. So there. So there is a reason to go up to the bedroom again. Socks and an entire replacement of clothing. If I put on my socks then it will be boots and I will have no excuse not to take out the trash, feed the chickens and do the things. I’m so tired of the things. I have an ottoman to carry, and a window to cover in plastic. And two thousand words to write, at least, and I’m here instead, talking about my toes.
  • The whole day spreads before me and I’m focused on a perceived misuse of this thirty. What a fucking mind blow. I don’t even know what to say to myself, who is this? Why do I keep bumping into her? Why does she rate carrying an ottoman upstairs as more important than the writing that has kept my spirit whole these past three months? Why is she even here?
  • Oh man, these details. My cold toes. The woodstove in front of me, the black black black of the woodstove and her pipe. On the side, its brand, Vigilant. It better than any affirmation I tell you. Everyday.
  • The puzzle table is full of a new one, and I dread my kids’ realization that it is pretty hard, and will cause more frustration than joy. And I don’t even like looking at it in the beginning stages, the freaking edges, man.
  • There are a lot of Christmas things that will stay up and here through the darkest months. The tree. The stuffed gnome. The lights, the lights the lights. I’ll fight you . there is not enough coffee. (if I fought you, I would lose, if that helps.) I just want the rage to have a place to go. To feel something, to have a wound that is visible, that can be treated. A start. And a finish.

Love love, and yes, even with the love, I’ll fight you.

thats the mood.

me.

The plants. The light they are not supposed to have. And a cowbell behind them. Because.
Humanity

Who she what? January.

Cynthia Lee prompt today:

Introduce yourself.

and its time, to reintroduce myself to this new crew, here. and, happily, it can fall into list form.

  1. I am she who is a mother, to three, through and through. they consume much of my world, and i feel the skin peel off when they are not here, and the great joy that they have love in other houses, even though that is complicated and more skin peels.
  2. I am the one who compulsively defends. Compulsively. I think it is in my personality to see all the sides, the justifications, and sometimes that hurts the ones I am actually loyal to. “Who’s side are you on?” is the refrain of the hurt. I’m always on their side, though, every single time.
  3. I am one of those captured by beautiful things, and you’d be surprised at (and not) what I am caught by. Chaos, Simplicity, Complexity, Decking materials, fireplaces, typefaces, brick, deterioration, pattern, waterdroplets, owl pellets, dew.
  4. I am she who sinks deep into thought, the otherworldly, the rehash of things long done, the pitterpatter of fairy toes, the simply blanks of looking. there is a meditation in my blankness that not even i can understand.
  5. I’m of age, a weaver of my beauties, a grasp at tendrils of divine, a pull of greenlife, a beat of mothering. I cannot wait to see what comes of that.
  6. I worry. I think to prepare for the worst, and know I could not ever handle that, and know I could, too. And I am betwixt and between which one I could stomach.
  7. I am the hedonist, the seeker of pleasure, gratification and sense. Finding one to match that is proving elusive. There are so many rules I can’t understand, and stumble over. Intuition and expectation street fight in muck.
  8. I’m the eyeroller. (thank god not every call is facetime) The one who allows so much bullshit to pass without confrontation. Zero confrontation. Do not mistake my lack of confrontation for respect. It is not that. I will let you have your ego. You keep it. Tend it, love it. I don’t give a shit.
  9. I’m the one who struggles with taking care of myself beyond pleasure. I am not good at the hydration and the physical fitness. I am not. I love the donuts. I’m not on many of my lists of things to do. I am also she who works on that list, every day. I’m trying, sometimes.
  10. I am the one who loves the list, the way in which you get the small capsules to read, the bits. I wrote a story in my 20s called Bites, and I loved the format and still do, of small bits and nibbles of story, and the blanks are yours, yours to roll around in, like poetry.

love love,

me.

Woah. I am she of the up-close, too. Good lord.
Humanity

HEY! LOOK! December Changeup!

What do you think? My predilection for curses has to stay, guys. It just does.

But here is today’s list anyhow.

ala Cynthia Lee as per usual this month…

  1. Remember how easily babies can be soothed, once you know them, those four or so things that work: are they hungry, uncomfortable, lonely, sleepy? (and oh my god, this does not take into consideration cholic and god bless you if you survived that.) Cynthia points out that adults and people with age have been feeling HALTED, in the same way. Let me spell that out for you better.
    H: Hungry A:Angry L:Lonely T: Tired E: Embarrassed D: Distressed
  2. How this might play out in watching our families and ourselves? Oh, I know you can see it. I also know that being solution-oriented will run amuck with me if I follow along with too much vigor. but i can certainly look at my damn self through that lens. And I’m adding Bored under the category of distressed, because goddamnit, i struggle with that.
  3. I find if I look at my self and my people through a lens like this, I have more space for sympathy, and kindness. It brings me right back to mothering the infant, a level of simplicity that I can handle, though frucking monstrously exhausting.
  4. just having a ladder to climb that way feels so damn helpful, and hopeful. If I can look at what is going on with my kids and within my own damn messiness, my god, if i can be more kind to any of those? it may save us all.
  5. Being home all this time, for years now, with the freelance editor/writer stuff, and for ten years before that as a stay-at-homer, I can really easily forget that I am NOT AN AGORAPHOBE. seriously, I am not. Nor am I Amish, or Mennonite. I miss people. so say we all.
  6. the kids leave today, for the five day chunk. I literally just daydreamed about cleaning the bathroom. like, real clean, not kid-clean. and it would stay that way, for five whole days. the smell of cleaner? oh my god, who the hell have i become?
  7. waking up on the days they are leaving is always a little different. no matter how little i have planned, there is a sense of anticipation, for the alone time. (i have absolutely zero planned for this five days, zero. because, covid. although, maybe writing, and a trip to the post office.)
  8. FIVE DAYS. FIVE!!
  9. Today i go to the nurse to learn how to give myself b12 injections. and i think i will feel like a rockstar once i get that underway. (so i guess thats a plan, i guess? whoop dee doo)
  10. I’m smiling a lot and there is a pressure release slowly whistling.
  11. and I made it to 11. although this, right here, is cheating.

ha.

lovelove,

me.

Beach walks, there is no other light like this. . .

Humanity

December 26

what are you, literally, feeling today?

THE FEELS.

(ala Cynthia, again. I love her. You should go see her. really.)

  1. my eyes are tired, they’ve got that slight delay to them, the blink is slower. i feel that.
  2. pride. i’m proud that yesterday was so nice. i had a good time. i lost my shit around 4 trying to assemble the rowing machine. but i did it. my first ever solo voyage. and the kids accepted my apology and i lay under the incredibly soft and weighted blanket my sister got me and i cried a little. there’s no one to ask for any help, or even any sympathy and sometimes that gets to me. i feel it. self-pity party. in my freak out i did mention ‘real subtle-like’ some of the reasons why i might be so tired to the kids. it is good for them to gain some knowledge on christmas day. i’m sure they won’t remember. but still.
  3. its legit cold this morning, and i put on my boots and got the trash can out in time. the cold was good for my spirit. i think it cleared out some stuff. certainly made me realize that pajamas are not really winter weather gear. the sharpness on my skin was a good reminder of what is, and what is not.
  4. the coffee is so strong. the mug is porcelain poured over something else, smooth. i have no idea if its porcelain, its just smooth, with an imprinted, ‘christmas red’ design and i love it, and spent minutes this morning wondering if it were green would it last longer seasonally… like, could i use it into spring without feeling ‘behind’ in cleaning up, somehow. (i do not clean up quickly, but i do need another clearing of house some time in january, so it does get moved away)
  5. my skin is still soft, and smells good. oh my. soft. like old-lady soft. bring on the pastel mints.
  6. i keep having to consciously pull my shoulders down and relax my arms. i’m carrying some physical stress and I’m not sure what thats about, or why i keep getting wound up. once an hour at least.
  7. i just-about sliced the tip of my finger off last week (with scissors, thank you very much) when i was unpackaging a sled. it still hurts. it probably was a stitch-able thing but whatever and its my thumb. everytime i bump it my stomach lurches. i’ve had three freaking babies, folks. what the hell. it hurts distractingly. Its healed up mostly but good lord.
  8. i watered all my plants today, it felt like feeding chickens, taking care of babies. i was born to be a mom and i didn’t know it didn’t have to do with kids until after i started having kids. how bout that? i’m just that loving. i love my friends, my plants, my animals, my strangers. its just THAT obnoxious. gah.
  9. i always put oranges in stockings. yeah, old school but man, the texture of that skin. can’t you feel it and smell it now?
  10. i’m so damn lucky. i know it. my kids are awesome and healthy and i got to see my mom and sister (windows open, everyone masked the whole time, even kids y’all) yesterday. i feel the luck and love.
  11. today i’m going to read, and feed them and maybe get them out to the beach for a beauty walk. but thats it, and except for reading, the rest is negotiable. 😉
  • i missed yesterday and thought about it a few times. i slept downstairs on the sofa by the tree and woke up before everyone. it was blissy but not necessarily good sleep. i saved my energy for the inevitable ‘will you play this new ooo with me?’ i did, i played, and then i said no, and then i ‘napped’ and then fed them. it was a win for the feeding, after all that. so i forgive myself the miss of not writing. life and all.
  • still loves you all plenty.
  • me.

Humanity

December Wonder.

Might not make eleven today, because my brain is euphoric.

The prompt was to notice the wonder. (ala Cynthia..)

  1. waking up alone. i know many of you may not remember this joy anymore, but it is a joy. to stretch, to take one’s time in a roll out. i love it. the light feels different. (this is not to say that having kids in my bed is not lovely. or that i don’t love having a man there…) but man, i love waking up alone… the light is different, i usually sleep an hour or two longer, really, i do. not being responsible for saving the world (or my kids from fire or sickness or fear) is a good thing.
  2. i’m still delighted by the snowflakes and yes, i will probably make one trip out today to see if i can score some more. one set of the decorations were from etsy and someone cut and sewed these three dimensional paper snowflakes and i just can’t stand how smart and creative people are. so simple! and yes, unbelievably wondrous.
  3. quiet hope.
  4. being aware of some of my patterns. i am growing expectations of warmth and snuggle for tonight and my kids will be coming back from essentially ‘christmas’ and the overload of adrenalin and excitement and i need to be real about how they will be behaving and what they will want to do. i was thinking ‘sound of music’ but the reality may be ‘die hard’. (which would make me giddy with glee, but let’s pretend i am capitulating.)
  5. i love you guys, i really do. thank you so much for reading here. it fills me with joy on the regular. and we all need that feeling. what on earth or sky gives you that feeling? go find some of that, safely please. but go find some.

stay home, stay safe.

love you,

uwmf