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Invisible or Invincible

As she was swinging belly down superhero style on her swing, I heard Fiona say “I am invincible”. Or was that invisible, I thought. Is her power to disappear? And it occurred to me that you can choose one or the other mode in life but you can’t be undecided. You can choose strength and resilience to withstand the perceived thoughts of others. Or you can choose to avoid their eyes and their judgements, but either way you’ve made a choice. You can’t choose neither. Invisible or Invincible on Shalavee.com

While I have chosen to be in the public eyes with my blog, often honestly sharing information that would be considered too much information in an earlier life, I still can not say that I’ve felt I’m invincible. For a long time, I’ve felt raw and the world’s input sharp and pokey. Unknown people and their judgements are dangerous. I was suspicions about why anyone might want to befriend me. How could you possibly control all of that? I’d just wanted to remain invisible. Until that became painful.

Invisible or Invincible on Shalavee.com

You can’t remain invisible because you need to belong to the world. Simply, you need the validation that people give you. It’s excruciating to not receive this. Instead of hiding, you can just decide that people are still relatively good, well-meaning, and curious about you, and then often done with you. They’d rather focus on their own insecurities and perceived flaws and not yours. And if you saw their egos are just as self-involved as yours is, you’d know that you aren’t all that important in their eyes. But we are all very important in our own lives. All we have at the end of the day is our feelings about our lives. So we might as well go for the invincibility, the resilience to caring and do what we need to make us happy. Not at the cost of others but to feel the freedom we were born to feel within our lives, our bodies, and our minds.

Invisible or Invincible on Shalavee.com

How many people could I help today if I felt a little stronger, even as I wobble? If I had a little less clutter to stumble over in my head as I walked through to greet them and extend my hand. Not for any other reason than to say, “Hey, you aren’t alone”. So here’s to ever-increasing invincibility. To becoming visible, especially to ourselves so that we know what our assets are to offer the world.

And 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 orPinterest 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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Mirror World

Have you ever caught a look at yourself inside the room in the mirror? It is so enticing and almost exotic to see your life this way except in there it’s exactly the opposite. And it makes me wonder how the world in which she lives in may be different,  perhaps better. What secrets does she hold in that cabinet in the corner you see through the mirror that you may benefit from.

I think she knows how to laugh even more often than I. How to live a little more easily, choosing her energy to get right to the heart of what matters and what needs doing. I think she knows the way to live her life in the groove that feels easy and makes a difference daily to others. And she recognizes her worth in the greater picture.in the mirror on Shalavee.com

She’s the one who gets up and creates everyday. She is left-handed after all. She eats those niggling fears for breakfast sprinkled on her oatmeal and does stuff anyway. She always feels grateful and has more than enough t be bringing youo give of herself everyday to her people, her life, her purpose.

She is the looking-glass me and she just waved. And look, she’s holding up a note. What does it say? Life is good on both sides. Love the life you’ve got, make room for the improvements, give yourself credit for them too.

PS : I won’t be bringing you a post on Monday July 4th as I think you’ll have enough to do and enjoy without my help. Catch up on my older posts if you want to. Put the word ‘esteem’ in the blog’s Searchbox and see what posts appear. Read them, they’re good.  Happy Holiday everyone!

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. If you Sign up for my newsletter in the sign up box over there to the right, you’ll receive a first look-see at my Creative Mothers’ Manifesto!  Heartfelt impassioned words on the need for expressing creativity for your soul and being a better mother for it.

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In Your Face

I am large and she is small. While I tend to her needs these days, I am stooped down often sitting on a stool while I’m dressing, diapering, buckling, or scolding her. And I’m right in her line of fire. I am the sight-line, the moving target for her assault.

Toddlers are spastic. They get excited when they eat sugar, are cold, or have to pee. And when they’re excited, they are likely to mess with and shriek at whatever’s in their face. Which means me at bath time, me at diapering time (now done while she’s standing up out of respect), and me whenever I have to lean over to buckle her into the car seat. In Your Face on Shalavee.com

When we are face to face, apparently it’s an invitation to poke at me, shriek at me, cling to me, or whatever other action suits her mood. The other day she bit my butt as apparently my butt was right at her eye level. She’ll squeeze my cheeks (face), puts her hands down my shirt, and now has suddenly taken to assaulting me with kisses.

When you have children, you already give up your privacy while peeing. And considering the lack of privacy they have when they’re diapers are being changed, I guess turnabout is fair play. I remember when Eamon was about this age, he came home from his daycare and told us that the teachers had taught him about “persable space”. We still use that phrase. We still don’t truly respect it.In Your Face on Shalavee.com

So my thought is that soon Fiona is going to need the same talk about personal space and permission. Because however I ask her to respect my body will teach her to tell others to respect hers. While she is terribly cute, she’s also most annoying pointing her spastic attention cannon at me.

Until she says very sweetly “You’re a very good Mommy”. Where does she get this stuff?

And 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 orPinterest 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.

The Relentlessness of Motherhood

My go to word in describing parenting is relentless. My baby daughter, ungrateful and miserable, can cry at me at least ten times today, what feels like 70 percent of the day, beating me down further and further into defeat. The relentlessness is daunting.

You’re review is in. Fifty percent of today will not meet with her satisfaction and, according to her, you suck at parenting.

My top seven words to embody my experience with motherhood are:

  1. Chaos
  2. Temperance
  3. Perseverance
  4. Relentless
  5. Confusion
  6. Patience
  7. Exhaustion

All problems could be solved, you think, if only I had their money or their family. Those people with their 5 extra family members to spread out the stress of the 16 plus hours a-grueling-day of care-taking and giving. If only I had their time and money to buy nicer clothing to cover up my ever-widening butt until I could hire that trainer to help me widdle it down. For now, I wear my ill-fitting sweats, placing my greying thinning hair into something up-ish. My nails and cuticles dry and ragged for lack of care. I have that look of survival and neglect. That wild look that says I’ve thought about fleeing in my fantasies. The dull look of disbelief that this will get better no matter how many times people insist it will. Beaten and hopeless is all the rage in the truthful Mommy circles.At the grocery store years ago on Shalavee.com

If only I had the money to buy a SUV that I could comfortably load and buckle my child into without having the rain soak my back. Then I’d slip into the front seat and drive smoothly away to drop my privileged child off at that member of the care-taking team whose day it was to take them. Or I’d hire a housekeeper/child care-taking person as a stunt double so I could escape and make art or do lunch or have beauty salon time. Where’s my miracle money? My large ever-loving family? Where’s my get out of hardship free card?

No I won’t be looking forward to “taking care of myself” with a kale and flax smoothie tonight. Instead I’m thinking of making pasta with gravy, cheese, and deep-fried potatoes and a side of beef so that I can feel an ounce and moment of comfort that I never feel in my day-to-day existence. Wash it down with a 12oz glass of Shiraz and pray I can stay awake to watch any escapism television.Baby Fiona on Shalavee.com

Why is it wrong to want it to be easier than this? To want the release of the hardship and grinding daily agony. I want to feel light and unencumbered. I want privilege instead of lack. I want a child who doesn’t make me constantly feel like I’m failing her. I want to stand here in the winner’s circle and not the survivor’s circle. Like my mother did. Like hers before her. Because deep down I don’t believe there’s any other way for it to be but hard.

And 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 orPinterest 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.

My Color Purple Story

One of my very favorite movies that I haven’t reseen in a long time, The Color Purple, has one of my favorite scenes of all time. I’ve mentioned this before but here I go again. Oprah Winfrey’s character Sophia Butler was spirited. After she is struck down and jailed for her spirit, she’s deformed and in the service of a neurotic white woman named Miss Millie who is loathable.

In this scene, Sophia gets to go see her family again and she drives herself there with Miss Millie in Miss Millie’s car. She arrives and is overjoyed and ready to get out and visit and hold and love on her loved ones. But Miss Millie can’t drive the car away. She gets upset by the happy children jumping about for Sophia and grinds the gears. And melts down.

Fiona and the purple asters on Shalavee.com

And just that quickly, Millie has to get back in the driver’s seat of the car and take care of Miss Millie like she’s a child. It’s the most heart wrenching scene. This is the scene I think of when I attempt to create and be in my happy zone only to be ripped from my train of thought and interrupted by a two-year old.

This is exactly why I don’t usually attempt to do anything. But as I said that first day of the challenge, a little bit is better than nada. Because there’s just nothing else to choose. Choosing to not create is unacceptable. Or should I say, choosing to not create in the craft room because Fiona is there isn’t reason enough.

And maybe the next time I will just be a bad Mama and put her in front of the Television. Duh.

I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.
Alice Walker,
The Color Purple

Wanna see the whole month of posts? Start here.Yesterday’s post? Go here.

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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