I'm not attached to most things. I like de-cluttering and throwing things out excite me. I take a lot of time thinking about where I should take my "extras", my old stuff... Value Village near by is very convenient, yet I have been told that the owners are some rich assholes that take advantage of the poor. I think about selling some things, just to make a buck. I think of handing them down to my nieces, passing them on to people I work with, consignment stores, kijiji, the list goes on.
But I recently lost something irreplacable. And not by choice. 2009. All of my pictures. God Damn computer.
The night I realized they were gone, I was calm. Bewildered and in denial I suppose. Two weeks later the grief has set in and last night, I cried myself to sleep.
See, I adore taking pictures. I pride myself on having a decent eye for photography. I get lots of compliments on my work and have been asked to shot family photos, weddings and babies. Our camera is professional too which helps. Honestly though, most of the time I have no idea what I am doing or how the damn camera works... But I continue snapping away.
For some unknown reason some folders disappeared after C attempted to upgrade our PC. A mistake. I understand that. And I see the guilt in his eyes. He feels bad, I am trying to play down my anguish. (For the record he has spent hours trying to restore & recover data- a bit to stubborn to take the f*&^ing thing in, but he's tried).
I feel like part of me has died. My memory is not so good and I rely on my pictures to recall special moments. Her face, her feet, her dimple, her newborn yawn, my skin, his safe hands, grandma, grandpa, nieces, nephews so many things have been captured in that lense and saved on to this machine. As I write, I am using Restoration Version 3.2.13 to save me from the sorrow of never seening that time again. So far, we have saved 15% of what I had.
I recognize that there are worse things in life and it makes me cringe with empathy for people who have lost all their belongings in a fire, or a thesis or manuscript stolen, or the unthinkable; a baby's death. Oh my god. I can't even imagine that loss.
So the few I find will do. I accept the lose. I suppose it's an opportunity in reminding my brain that it must have the capacity to remember the details. Don't rely on the camera so heavily. Stop looking in the view finder to see what I have taken. See it for what is there in front of you. The moments are passing like light speed.
Breath. Take it in. Remember.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
total peace
I love that you are the only person who I feel myself, at peace and complete with. I just comforted you back to sleep. You work up, as you do, and gave a sad, bewildered cry out... so i reach you and lift you up for a cuddle.
My head is completly rested on yours. I can feel your fat checks, sucking your soother rythmically. I feel your wet tears stick to my face. I hear you breathing. I rocked you back and forth and back and forth. You shudder and sigh. Heartbeats. Stillness. I continue to gently sway back and forth. Holding you. Breathing in sync. My most favorite moment.
I think of animals, all lying together to keep warm in a den. It's like cats that purr when they rub their bodies together. My body purrs when I hold you fast asleep. It's like I feel the blood rushing to that part of mybrain that is responsible for attachment and bonding. I ignite then feel light headed, no thoughts. Quiet.
My baby.
No one else does this to me. The deepest feeling that we are totally, undeniably connected. The trust and forgiveness you offer, inspires me. I made you. But you made me complete.
My head is completly rested on yours. I can feel your fat checks, sucking your soother rythmically. I feel your wet tears stick to my face. I hear you breathing. I rocked you back and forth and back and forth. You shudder and sigh. Heartbeats. Stillness. I continue to gently sway back and forth. Holding you. Breathing in sync. My most favorite moment.
I think of animals, all lying together to keep warm in a den. It's like cats that purr when they rub their bodies together. My body purrs when I hold you fast asleep. It's like I feel the blood rushing to that part of mybrain that is responsible for attachment and bonding. I ignite then feel light headed, no thoughts. Quiet.
My baby.
No one else does this to me. The deepest feeling that we are totally, undeniably connected. The trust and forgiveness you offer, inspires me. I made you. But you made me complete.
Friday, August 27, 2010
tragedy
I young couple, 25 and 22, died in a car accident this week. They were with their 7 week old baby, Ysa. She survived.
My mum's mum died when my mum was 6.
I can't stop thinking about those angel mothers who watch their children grow from another world, another realm. Desolate. Desperate. Heart broken. It's an undeniabley cruel world that this could ever happen.
My mother always protected us from anything & everything bad, sad or mad. If our father was in a hungover rage, we were shuffled away to safety. I remember being 7 or 8 and my mum boldy standing between my angry, foaming at the mouth father and me. I though she was being brave, however in retrospect, perhaps she was pleading with him to settle, in an effort to avoid the possibility of me ever growing up.
We were not allowed to watch scary movies.In fact, I don't think I ever knew they existed (until I had a sleepover down the street and we watched "Watchers in the Woods"... shudder). A famous family story is that my mum turned of the Sound of Music when Von Trap and Maria say "I Do". My sisters discovered as teenagers that another 45 minutes of hardship and Nazi rule waged war on the sugar plums dancing in our heads. We never talked about politics, unplanned pregnancies, empty bank accounts or suicide. All of which played major roles in my parents life.
I sort of get why she did that now. She was protecting our hearts from breaking. My heart is totally broken for the family of Ysa. Even worse, they do not know if that poor sweet innocent baby is going to have any long term brain damage from the crash. I read that she is still in ICU and is not eating... (I swear I had let down upon reading that, even 2 months after I stopped breasfeeding!!). I ache for that precious babe who will always long for her parents.
I know all to well the feeling of wishing & longing for someone. At least I got 14 years with my dad. I also am lucky to have clear memories, his nose, and my daughter; who reminds me of him every time she stands still and points to the plane that is flying by.
My mum's mum died when my mum was 6.
I can't stop thinking about those angel mothers who watch their children grow from another world, another realm. Desolate. Desperate. Heart broken. It's an undeniabley cruel world that this could ever happen.
My mother always protected us from anything & everything bad, sad or mad. If our father was in a hungover rage, we were shuffled away to safety. I remember being 7 or 8 and my mum boldy standing between my angry, foaming at the mouth father and me. I though she was being brave, however in retrospect, perhaps she was pleading with him to settle, in an effort to avoid the possibility of me ever growing up.
We were not allowed to watch scary movies.In fact, I don't think I ever knew they existed (until I had a sleepover down the street and we watched "Watchers in the Woods"... shudder). A famous family story is that my mum turned of the Sound of Music when Von Trap and Maria say "I Do". My sisters discovered as teenagers that another 45 minutes of hardship and Nazi rule waged war on the sugar plums dancing in our heads. We never talked about politics, unplanned pregnancies, empty bank accounts or suicide. All of which played major roles in my parents life.
I sort of get why she did that now. She was protecting our hearts from breaking. My heart is totally broken for the family of Ysa. Even worse, they do not know if that poor sweet innocent baby is going to have any long term brain damage from the crash. I read that she is still in ICU and is not eating... (I swear I had let down upon reading that, even 2 months after I stopped breasfeeding!!). I ache for that precious babe who will always long for her parents.
I know all to well the feeling of wishing & longing for someone. At least I got 14 years with my dad. I also am lucky to have clear memories, his nose, and my daughter; who reminds me of him every time she stands still and points to the plane that is flying by.
Friday, June 25, 2010
a reflection
"Furnish an example, stop preaching, stop shielding, don't prevent self reliance and initiative, allow children to develop along their own lines" E. Roosevelt
Mimi is taking care of you during the day. You run to her with open arms and your dimple pressed in from smiling. It is a gift from mum to me that she is so willing and able to take care of you. She has flown out here until the end of the year, to ensure you have the best possible care for your first year away from me. We are so lucky.
What is funny about the situation is, while I feel you push my hand away when I feed you, so that you can do it yourself... I hear myself do the same thing to my mum.
Mimi: There is ham, and cheese and yogurt... and broccoli and bread for her.
Me: Ok, Mum.
Mimi: But there is chicken and cheese. And ham and yogurt.
Me: Alright.
Mimi: Here, I will cut up the cheese, in to tiny bites.
Me: Ok Mum. Thanks... Let me do it. Ok. Just let me do it.
(all the while Miss K is insisting she use the spoon to feed herself, shrieking and shaking her head no when I try to interfere).
So this is life. My mum parenting me parenting my kid. My toddler fighting to help herself, me insisting that I make my own choices, my mum longing to nourish us both.
"Growing up means letting go... a little bit at a time. And it's possibly the most challenging aspect of mothering, requiring you to dig deep, plumb the depth of insecurity, develop maturity and wisdom, and overcome the itching desire to pull close and hold tight". L. Skomal
Mimi is taking care of you during the day. You run to her with open arms and your dimple pressed in from smiling. It is a gift from mum to me that she is so willing and able to take care of you. She has flown out here until the end of the year, to ensure you have the best possible care for your first year away from me. We are so lucky.
What is funny about the situation is, while I feel you push my hand away when I feed you, so that you can do it yourself... I hear myself do the same thing to my mum.
Mimi: There is ham, and cheese and yogurt... and broccoli and bread for her.
Me: Ok, Mum.
Mimi: But there is chicken and cheese. And ham and yogurt.
Me: Alright.
Mimi: Here, I will cut up the cheese, in to tiny bites.
Me: Ok Mum. Thanks... Let me do it. Ok. Just let me do it.
(all the while Miss K is insisting she use the spoon to feed herself, shrieking and shaking her head no when I try to interfere).
So this is life. My mum parenting me parenting my kid. My toddler fighting to help herself, me insisting that I make my own choices, my mum longing to nourish us both.
"Growing up means letting go... a little bit at a time. And it's possibly the most challenging aspect of mothering, requiring you to dig deep, plumb the depth of insecurity, develop maturity and wisdom, and overcome the itching desire to pull close and hold tight". L. Skomal
Miss Independent
Ok. She has already broken free from me. You are walking. Away from me. When we explore the neighborhood and stroll down our block. You run the other way. She walks down each of the paths of every house we pass. With a grin and naughty giggle. I run after her and she shrieks with delight when I catch her. Then she signs "more".
I'm working away from you, 4 days a week. So on those 4 days, this gives me about 2 hours in total to touch, smell, roll around, read to, discover, connect and laugh with you. Not enough time. Especially when at least one hour of that time involves choirs; diapers, bath, dinner, breakfast, bottles, tightening up the seat belt buckle and running after you.
I don't want to go anywhere; not to waste time driving. I don't want to take you for a walk; as it feels like I am pushing you away from me when all I want is look in to your brown eyes. So we play. And today we danced. It's the year anniversary of Michael Jackson's death and you helped me celebrate it by snapping our fingers to Billy Jean.
Then after I put you to bed (and my love, you are sleeping so well these days!!) I think about how you grew up today. And it amazes me how you are not quite a baby any longer...
I'm working away from you, 4 days a week. So on those 4 days, this gives me about 2 hours in total to touch, smell, roll around, read to, discover, connect and laugh with you. Not enough time. Especially when at least one hour of that time involves choirs; diapers, bath, dinner, breakfast, bottles, tightening up the seat belt buckle and running after you.
I don't want to go anywhere; not to waste time driving. I don't want to take you for a walk; as it feels like I am pushing you away from me when all I want is look in to your brown eyes. So we play. And today we danced. It's the year anniversary of Michael Jackson's death and you helped me celebrate it by snapping our fingers to Billy Jean.
Then after I put you to bed (and my love, you are sleeping so well these days!!) I think about how you grew up today. And it amazes me how you are not quite a baby any longer...
Sunday, March 28, 2010
heels
Why is it that heels make you feel just a little bit better? I just purchased a pair of peep toe booties. I practically became another person when I placed them on my feet. I actually gave my little miss muffet a bath while wearing them... (mostly I pranced around the bathroom in awe of how tall, confident and cheeky I felt!)
They made me want to bump in to an ex, all done up right... just so he'd think "damn she looks good." It made me want to text my man to tell him what a treat he was in for that night. Even typing this, just thinking of those peep toe boots, makes me want to play Ella Fitzgerald and french enhale.
In the end- the lesson is: Spend some effort in making yourself feel good. If a silly pair of shoes can make me want to work wall street... imagine what a pencil skirt and blouse could do!
My advice to you sweet girl:
1. Find a good tailor. Wear well fitted clothes.
2. Wash your face often. Invest in some good quality blush, concelear and mascara. That's all you will ever need.
3. Brush your teeth before you go out and before you go to bed. Drink plenty of water.
4. Invest in some gorgeous boots and comfy heels. Spend a little extra for quality. They'll last longer.
I am just learning how to dress right. I am not the most fashionable, however I am thinking more about it. The investment in a well thought of wardrobe is worth it. Don't buy too much, buy what feels right. Wear yourself with confidence. People will notice.
Confidence is the one quality I promise to give to you. It may not come easy or always, but I'll take that challenge to live it. I want you to feel it, absorb it, create it. Chin up, my love.
They made me want to bump in to an ex, all done up right... just so he'd think "damn she looks good." It made me want to text my man to tell him what a treat he was in for that night. Even typing this, just thinking of those peep toe boots, makes me want to play Ella Fitzgerald and french enhale.
In the end- the lesson is: Spend some effort in making yourself feel good. If a silly pair of shoes can make me want to work wall street... imagine what a pencil skirt and blouse could do!
My advice to you sweet girl:
1. Find a good tailor. Wear well fitted clothes.
2. Wash your face often. Invest in some good quality blush, concelear and mascara. That's all you will ever need.
3. Brush your teeth before you go out and before you go to bed. Drink plenty of water.
4. Invest in some gorgeous boots and comfy heels. Spend a little extra for quality. They'll last longer.
I am just learning how to dress right. I am not the most fashionable, however I am thinking more about it. The investment in a well thought of wardrobe is worth it. Don't buy too much, buy what feels right. Wear yourself with confidence. People will notice.
Confidence is the one quality I promise to give to you. It may not come easy or always, but I'll take that challenge to live it. I want you to feel it, absorb it, create it. Chin up, my love.
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