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Feeling My Phantom Worry Limb

This past year, I’ve become more aware of where my thoughts wander. And where they don’t wander anymore.

My improved self-awareness means I notice how my thoughts behave differently now than they did before all this hard self-work. I take notice of my options and choices when moments of decision bubble up to the surface of my everyday. This is the way I’m taking my power back against the anxieties I’ve had all my life. You know, the anxieties that ruled my every waking moment while I unconsciously allowed them to do so.Phantom worry limb post on Shalavee.com

Let me explain what I’m saying and how my life is different. During my days, as I try to accomplish the daily tasks of a Mom and a blogger/artist/writer, I’ll suddenly become aware that my anxiety is missing. I can hear how my previous thoughts would want to worry me about how and when everything will work out. With the what ifs and the myriad of possible outcomes. About my competency and about others’ thoughts about me. It’s like having a phantom worry limb. I recognize where it should be but it’s just not there. Now I choose to focus on doing the task at hand and completing it first. Instead of reliving the anxious mode which feels like I’m falling into a bottomless anxious pit, I’m choosing to keep my nose to the grindstone and am plowing through.

Being present and in the moment is the perfect foil to anxiety. That and being as proactive about everything as I possibly can. Planning and scheduling ahead helps immensely. Now there’s no procrastination being used to bring on anxiety. I often do things before they even get on a list.

Fear can not exist in the same place as gratitude. And as you are present to feel that gratitude, you will not be in the past or the future where that fear lurks.

Phantom worry limb post on Shalavee.com

In this way, I’m actually feeling better about my accomplishments as opposed to having my pride robbed or kept from me as I fret about an outcome which I’ll never be in control of. Now is the only time I’ll ever have. The best use of my time is to be willing to trust my decisions and to be here doing the best job I can and to be present for my children.

If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

How About That Menopause

I pulled off quite the late bloomer feat three years ago when I got pregnant at the overly ripe age of 46. My one friend stated, leave it to Shalagh to pull off that kind of way-outside-the-box stunt. I wanted no regrets in trying to have one more. And one more is exactly what I got and then some. A Girl!

And now, three years later, my body is starting to stutter. Less than a year now until I turn 50 and I’m missing a period, skipping a beat here and there. Am I happy about it? Yes. Would I be happier if I could just flip a switch and be done with it? Yes.Am I going to wax poetic on my body and all that this represents. Not right now.

The women in my family have little history to tell me about what my family might do so I am winging it here. Osteoporosis, hormone therapy, and estrogen supplements? I don’t know. As much as I’ve cursed my body these past 37 years, it’s the familiar that we cling to.The unknown that we fear.

Hello menopause on Shalavee.com

I do know that I’m happy I pulled off what I did when I did. A baby at 46 years old. She’s a blessing and a delight even as she’s flipping me off in her randy toddler fashion. And I have many many lady friendships to draw from were I to dare ask what their experiences have been.

So Bon Voyage to my youthful Mommy purposed body and Hello to the new old lady frontier. It’s all according to a master plan. Just not necessarily mine.

If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

Are You a Mourning Cook Too?

There was once a time when I cooked for the joy of it. I dared to try different techniques, different regional tastes, or daring feats of culinary craziness. I deboned a turkey for Thanksgiving just to say I did it. I make a mean tiramisu when I take the time to. That went with my Italian Christmas feast I made one year with homemade pasta and reinforcement salad. And now I am in mourning for the cook I used to be.

I soooooo miss those days when the pursuit of culinary loveliness was just for self-gratification. And for the gratification of the ones I love of course. What wine pairs with my culinary feat du jour and who am I inviting over to impress? Do we have enough wine? Who cares the time.

Those days are gone Daddy gone. I became a Mom and Eamon and Fiona are happy to be eating some boxed mac and cheese and a microwaved hot dog. Don’t forget the ketchup. And the ice cream.Thanksgiving dinner 2015 on Shalavee.com

When I indulged these thoughts, I felt suddenly as if I were mourning this memory. I love cooking to cook. And I resent cooking plebeian meals for temperamental palettes. But my wise and dear husband pointed out, after I shared my depressing revelation of cooking sentence, that he thinks eventually those same children will develop their taste buds and sense of adventure and they’ll be cooking with me and eventually for me.

I dearly hope his prediction is correct. I won’t hold my breath. But my love of cooking came from my parents, yes, although I also was an adventurous eater. I find it very hard to put so many parts of my soul on hold for the sake of the children. And yet, my complaints are rare because I do understand that this is one of many sacrifices one makes for your children. Like the reading of a book or peeing in private. And that to wish the hurrying through of this phase is to wish to hurry their childhood. And I’m not about to do that.Saturday morning breakfast in the living room that we dine in on Shalavee.com

Sandra Lee had a pretty keen idea of mixing the downtown and the uptown cooking and I commend her for her efforts to create fancier meals with less prep and throw in a decorative element to make the dining experience an event. Children can learn to revere the meal times and eventually the food that is there on their plates. And it’s time I revisit the review I did of French Kids Eat Everything by Karen La Billon. It was really good.

So here’s me dreaming of truffles and oysters and sabayon. And planning a dinner party sometime soon so that I can get some culinary yaya’s out.

If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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