If you remember a few weeks ago I posted about my struggles with trying to play the ukulele. I promised to stick it out for the whole six week course and tonight was the last night of the 101 class that I was able to take. Spoiler alert: I don’t hate it and I haven’t cried about it in a couple weeks.
Belonging and not ownership is something I’ve been contemplating lately. I have come to the conclusion that belonging comes from a place of love and ownership comes from a place of ego.
Now don’t get me wrong, that ego can be a loving, well-meaning force but it is a force nonetheless which sometimes doesn’t leave a lot of room for the others who don’t live up to the owner’s expectations.
When’s the last time you did something really hard? Like so frustrating you want to cry, hard? For me, it was yesterday.
I had hoped to write about this more often but it seemed tedious and repetitive the first few months because I wasn’t making any head way in quite a few of my goals but now that we’re 6 months into 2019 I have made a lot of progress. If you want to read about my 19 for 2019 you can do that here and here.
“…to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life”
~Henry David Thoreau, Walden (emphasis is mine)
I am lucky, I am a teacher who gets to spend the whole summer off with my child. I want the summers of the future to conjure up the magic and memories of summers of the past. I want the Munchkin to feel like summer is a time for fun and exploration, for adventures, and marrow sucking. I want her (and me) to enjoy summer; I don’t want to look back and think I’ve “wasted” the gift that summer brings.
“How can I say it?
The way to “get over” a life is to die.”
from The Cure by Albert Huffstickler
I recently heard this poem and this line stuck out for me. “The way to get over a life is to die”. While that initially sounds incredibly depressing it is true. The only way we’re getting out of this existence is death. And please, before I go any further, if you are reading this and feeling suicidal please stop and call 1-800-273-8255 or go to https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/. Your life matters so please get help.
Whether you are a mom feeling the pressure of every day or you are a man feeling pressure to provide for your family and everything else in between; we struggle daily to “do it all and do it with a smile”. While I’ve explained the pitfalls I’ve experienced with the do it all mentality before and how it’s just not possible, today I want to focus on the do it with a smile portion of this perfection disease we’re coping with.
In the interest of staying true to the goal of this page and spreading reality instead of false ideals: I cannot make hard-boiled eggs well.
Now don’t get me wrong I KNOW how to make hard-boiled eggs but it always goes wrong.
Yesterday (Sunday) was a particularly interesting “Spring” day and I over planned it only to be paying for it today. Since the Mr. has been working on Sundays I’ve been going to the grocery store before church (roughly 8am) because it’s way less crowded and it gives the Munchkin and I something to do other than be sloth-like and have the TV on in the morning.
How much time do we really have? I have been struggling since the Munchkin, and to be honest, since before the Munchkin, to figure out what I REALLY like to do. What are my hobbies as an adult? I do a great job of “adulting” and taking care of the productive to do list but what do I do for fun? What does it feel like to be “alive” for me?
The Mr. has been away for work since Sunday, he came back today but I am so ready for him to come home. I’m really not good at doing this by myself. Sometimes I’m not good at doing this with him either but I really suck as a toddler mom (or just mom) some days. And I’m not saying this out of a place of self-pity or a place of anxiety. I am just not the best at handling the illogical little human that currently tries to run the house and throws a fit when things don’t go her way. I didn’t realize milk tastes different when it’s in the blue cup versus the pink cup. I didn’t realize food tastes different with the Moana fork but alas here we are.