phantom limb syndrome

This past weekend I did some cool stuff, some this-is-summertime-hear-me-roar kind of stuff. Some stuff that involved galavanting and dancing and laughing with friends and soaking in rays and boogeying and hula-hooping and singing loud and proud. But there was one, major thing missing.

My camera!

My camera was missing, some occasions for common sense, another for forgetfullness.

So I didn't capture the true essence of Red Rocks Ampthitheater and how AWESOME it was to dance in the warm summer night to Yonder Mountain String Band and Leftover Salmon. Or the red jutting rocks nestled around us, cocooning us into the symphony of sounds and sights it allowed. Or the festivarian nature of the tailgaiting before hand and the super great ladies I was with. I couldn't capture the freedom I felt as I stayed away from home sans child for the longest time ever, or how Mike sent me a text picture in the middle of the concert of him and Ellie and I was really OKAY. I was feeding something that needed to be fed, and it wasn't my belly.

I also wasn't able to capture the sweet, serenity of sitting on a blanket with my husband and child, on another warm summer night, while listening to and watching Garrison Keiler and the Prairie Home Companion Summer of Love Tour. I didn't capture how my daughter was so enchanting in her ever so toddler cuteness, dancing her baby bop, crawling all over her mommy and daddy. I didn't capture how Garrison walked up and down the aisles singing old time songs like Home on the Range and You Are My Sunshine along with the crowd, how good it felt to sing in harmony with the voices around me. The rain that threatened us but politely veered in the opposite direction. The thick lush lawn. The totally awesome habanero jelly that Mike made. The super amazing and expensive cheese that I stuck on Ritz crackers much to Mike's chagrin. I remember looking over at Mike and saying "I'm really happy." What beautiful moments we were in. And what a great family we are.

And my camera was not there. I wanted to grab for it so many times. I wanted to take those happy, single moments and capture them forever, into little digital images that I would probably never actually print on paper. I admit I was bummed at the photographic POTENTIAL that was missed, but the moments were certainly NOT missed. They were just not tangibly contained, as is usually the case.

They were just contained in my mind. And in my heart.


(ok ok and also my phone! I admit it! So here are a couple of phone pictures which I sort of don't like to count, because you know, they're not NEARLY as good as my mac daddy camera, which I always have with me. But hey, I remember the day when a 2.0megapixel camera was the bomb diggity and here I am complaining about my phone. How did I get so snobby???)

You just can't capture it. View from the upper bathrooms.

Tailgating. Nothing like a crew of moms hanging out with teenage hippies.

Sorry about the sideways video. I hate trying to edit videos. The fact that it's even on here makes me hugely victorious.

Here and Now

"You must give up the life you planned in order to have the life that is waiting for you.” – Joseph Campbell


I love this quote. I love this quote because it speaks to ME. To me, it is the best advice ever.

I have lived in many places. Growing up we moved a lot, and I think the urge for moving is a part of me. I see a new move as a clean slate, and when I look back on all the places I've lived, there was a part of ME, a different part of ME that really stood out. My surroundings were different and invoked a different purpose in myself. My friends were different and they supported and helped foster different interests and ideas. I felt different in each place, like certain characteristics were magnified according to where I was.

Each time I move on I leave a piece of me behind. A part of the process of moving on involves a mourning for what I left behind. Sometimes the mourning becomes more prominent and really shakes me up. I can curse myself with "what if's". What if I hadn't left? Who would I be? What part of ME that was there, am I missing here?

This is a nonproductive momentum. Yet it is one that has cursed me ever since I left home the day after high school graduation.

Life is like a river. It is always moving and you can not contain any one moment, you can only enjoy and be present where you are. The river moves on and is dynamic. You move on, you grow, and you are dynamic. Each person you love becomes a part of you, even when they turn to memories. Each beautiful horizon nourishes you, and you move on and take the beauty somewhere inside of you. Life is so bountiful and abundant. And we are powerful in what we choose to hold inside, and how we choose to express our vast river of experience. We can mourn the parts that we hold so dear, I often do. But we can not stop the ever changing waters. We can not contain a river. Instead we can accept where we are, who we are, and where we want to go. Looking back accomplishes nothing. Enjoying the cool water in this very moment accomplishes everything.

It's a good thing to remember.

"You must give up the life you planned in order to have the life that is waiting for you.” – Joseph Campbell

Thanks Mr. Campbell. It's great advice.

Toddler!!!!!

Wow oh wow do things change in a not so subtle way once the sweet little cuddly baby becomes a TODDLER! We are in the full throws of what it means to manage the "terrible two's". Long ago are the days when the little baby awoke, took in her surroundings with a sort of doe eyed stare and followed you with her contented gaze as you got all the things that you needed to get done, done. Enter new stage where you are frantically keeping things safe, interesting, and manageable for your little less than a yard tall child who now looks at the world with fierce determination meaning, "Yes! I can DO THAT, TOO!!! Gimme gimme gimme!!!

Now with our toddler I can say that every day there is a new element to the baby proofing as she teaches us that yet again! she has found a way that could potentially harm if not kill herself. It means physically stripping YOURSELF down naked everytime she needs to take a bath because Lo an Behold the tub just happens to be SCARIEST place on earth. I'm talking fear and crying and no way in HELL will she sit down and her legs become stiff as boards (woah she's strong) so the only way to remotely prevent her from cracking her pretty little head on the porcelain is to hop in the tub with her and enjoy the tepid 3 inch water (Ah Calgon, take me away!!!!!!!!).

Taking things OUT and putting them back IN in her OWN arrangement is a large part of her day. And with this I'm talking kitchen cabinets, her toys, ah and AS WE SPEAK she is tearing all of the wipes out of her wipes container. THANKS ELLIE! (In addition to removing the wipes as I speak she is also methodically wiping her already diapered crotch WITH them. Ah, so smart!)

Little miss thang is very important and she lets you know it. She's all "galabodookeega" and smiles and laughs at her very amazing language skills. Oh and her amazing climbing abilities. She climbs on every possible outreach of crack that is possible to the house, including, but not limited to: the couch, the windowsills, her toys, her booster chair, the fridge (middle shelf working on the top!)
And for the love of God if you are not WATCHING her mad skills she will walk straight over to you and straddle your lap facing you with that incredibly cute face and say something like "ahbadadadmamamama" (in the highest pitch possible).

Also, she loves to help with blog posts. Especially when I'm knee deep in a very important thought she will soon run over with her spry little fingers and start convulsively chicken pecking all over my keyboard. (I blame all typos and grammatical errors on her)

She's such a helper.

We, and I know I'm in solidarity with all moms with toddlers, are ON THE GO. ALL THE TIME.
I can't tell you the last time I enjoyed a full cup of hot coffee IN THE MORNING.

I miss you coffee. And I miss you time-to-myself. But for as much work as little miss thang makes for me, she has me cracking up all day long. So we're willing to take the minor glitch of detour that is toddlerhood and take it for what it is. A seriously entertaining, and important time.

Here she comes!!!!
(This is actually a couple of months old, but I'm not good at this video stuff. She's actually walks a bit less "drunken-sailor"y now. YES that's a word!)

so true, yo!

What I do with downtime on a weekend getaway.
1) Play with blocks
2) Play with my new phone

I can't help it, it's SO COOL!
(vacation, blocks, AND phone)

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Over the river and through the woods....

....to a mountain condo we go!

This weekend we are going on a mountain adventure. An adventure that involves the high Rocky Mountains, a condo, and a babysitter. Rustic? No. Beautiful? Heck yeah.

Sometimes I feel like I'm chasing summer, trying to get in every fun thing possible, wanting to EAT it up. That's my way. But, like yoga, like daily living, like life, rest is a part of the whole. I don't always feel comfortable with rest. I move. I pounce about. Even when I'm on the computer (my version of rest) I'm flitting around from one thing to the next. Welcome to my brain. But, having said all that, there is a place where I feel fully capable of relaxing. Where I TRULY feel at home. Where my cells give way their firm posture and plop down on their butts. I'll give you a clue: it starts with an "m" and rhymes with "fountains". 

Colorado is breathaking. And after the packing, and with the car headed west, I'll be sure to let out a big sigh.

Really, I need to do that more often.

The glory days of summer

Beautiful weather.

Great friends.

Children's laughter.

Sunny skies.

Festivarian love.

Mountains.

Rivers.

Singing

Colorado loveliness all the way around.

This, to me, is summer.

Man I love it so.

Nicholas Sparks needs to case study THIS

Let me tell you about my day. First of all, it's about 150 degrees. I'm home with Ellie all day, which is fine, but for whatever reason when it's just her and I she's extra clingy. Like for example she could be happy la-la-la in daddy's arms and if I peek around the corner she's all like "meh! bleh! weh!" (I don't know what that's all about.) So I fended off the whines and cries all day and gave her lots of solid attention. Then nap time rolled around and I got on my HANDS AND KNEES baby and cleaned those dang floors. I took out some serious carpeting. I cleaned the house with some hard manual labor. Then my super awesome nanny gave me a break and I got my butt SPANKED (this is metaphorical) at my new neighborhood gym. Came home, carted around the child even though my arms are NOODLES. Daddy's home so dinner, cleaning, playing, yaddy yaddy yaddy.

Ok big deal right? Like you needed a play by play of my day. But the POINT
is that now I'm here, on my COUCH. House is clean, child is sweetly breathing in the monitor, daddy went to his softball game, and I am ALONE. Factor in to that one klondike bar (low fat I swear), contact lenses out and geeky glasses ON, and one cheesy, ooey, gooey CHICK FLICK.

Don't even TRY to burst my bubble.

But this leads me to my next, more substantial point: Chick flicks are NOT healthy. A truly good chick flick is like slipping into some sort of portal to some OTHER person's life. You get to feel your heart go pitter patter as you become privy to the protagonists' inevitable hot sex and firey chemistry. In the case of the Nicholas Sparks movie I just watched in which of course the hot guy DIES, then you finally get to pull the plug on the big ol wellspring of tears that ooo boy it feels good to release. I mean it's the PASSION that keeps you hanging on. That beautiful, envious, hot damn PASSION.

And then it's over. Credits are rolling and you pick up your popsicle wrapper and clean up your geeky glasses from all the tears. You head to bed with a longing, a sort of heavy je ne c'est quoi.

THEY'RE NOT HEALTHY.

Because at the end of the day, after a LONGGGGG day, after a run-of-the-mill EVERY day, that PASSION is just not there. Sure, there's love. But it's safe, secure, every day love, like your favorite blankey kind of love. Not oh-my-God-the-child's-asleep-now-get-OVER-here-bad-boy love. Of course I can only speak for myself but I ASSUME I'm speaking for others too here (if not then let's talk. I want your secrets). The point is, chick flicks are not true indicators for real life. If they were then they would involve (ok speaking for me again here) old Hanes Her Ways, popsicle wrappers, talks about money, and maybe an accidental fart or two.

Ooo the PASSION!

HOWEVER!!!! For the record, I love my kind of love. Chick flick love is not reality love. Or maybe it was but the chick flick fails to move on past the honeymoon phase. (And honeys, I LOVED me some honeymoon phase.) But then honeymoon phase morphs into something else. Something very safe. Something very comfortable, something routine. A lover becomes your very best friend. Passion becomes intimacy. And I like that. For me, that's actually a pretty bad ass place to be.

Technologically asunder

I remember back in 1995 I got my first email account. Now that was some COOL shit. Through the internet, I could write you a letter and not have to mail it. And I only knew like 4 other people with email accounts, so naturally we totally bonded through the ranks of our new discovery.

all the cool kids are doin it

Right now I feel like a teenager and all the popular kids are at this super cool party and I'm not there.

BlogHer '10 is happening right now in New York City. And all my favorite blog writers are there, laughing and bonding and learning all kinds of neato tricks to making their blogs EVEN better.

I could'a gone, I could'a gone. But I'm new. And nervous. And I like, don't know anybody yet.

So like, have a totally rad time guys! I'm just over here organizing my trapper keeper and cleaning out my headgear. Doh. 

Seriously. I need to befriend some BlogHer blog women. Because next year, I'm goin! Head gear's comin OFF baby! So HIT ME UP if you are as cool as me and aren't at BlogHer but want to go next year.

Yes, I'm trying to make friends here.....Shameless. So shameless.

Reclaiming "my girls"

Sometimes life knocks you down, punches you in the proverbial face, leaves you standing around trying to make sense of just exactly where you are.

This just happened to me.

So you know, you get up. You dust yourself off. You figure out what's not working. For me, it's multi-factorial, but the gist is that me and my sweet little daughter need to separate. Physically, for brief periods throughout the week. I need to focus some attention on myself. And the major major event that needs to occur for the emotional separation that is about to occur?

Mama needs her boobs back.

We are far, far away from nutritive sucking. I am a pacifier, plain and simple. And what a pacifier I am! I mean she could be freaking out and once that boob gets in her face she instantly calms. It's a miracle!! And so, naturally I'm a little freaked out about what to do without my "miracle medicine". So I've been scouring the internet and talking with friends. People have been doing this since the beginning of humankind. SOMEONE'S gotta have the answers!

Oh change is a comin little youngin. For you AND for me.

I've been reading all sorts of crazy childhood development stuff that frankly I can get through a page of and realize I didn't really get at all what it's saying, but the gist of it is: taking away the boob is a major, significant event in the psyche of a child. So you know, no stress there.

Transitional objects. I need to find one. Ellie NEEDS THIS. I'm trying to make her love this little blanket of hers, but that's like putting a stranger in your face and saying "Here. This is your new best friend". But still, maybe that stranger WILL become her new best friend. So we'll keep trying. I'm not going to take it all away at once, but we are setting limits now. And that little blanket will be a part of each session. Man, here's to hoping!

I would love to know if anyone has any books they would recommend about toddlers, and specifically about weaning and separation anxiety. We are in the throws over here man. The THROWS!!!!!

sleepless

I live right in the middle of the big city and I can hear crickets outside the window. This is how I know I am up way too late. Even though I physically went to bed around 8 to "catch up" all I found myself catching up on is my thoughts (ok and also my new Droid phone which don't get me started on that. I can feel hours of productivity slipping away....).

I am in a desperate search to try to find the balance that I am needing in my life. Between working, staying home with Ellie, finding time for my husband, finding time for my friends, finding time for myself, finding time to exercise, finding quality things to do with my daughter, wondering if I'm spending "too" much time with my daughter, trying to learn how to let go, trying to learn how to live with such an immense love my for my child, feeling the weight of that love, the anxiety of "what if's", all the while trying to remember who it is that I am amidst all of this. Because frankly, when Ellie came, the old me left. I'm still trying to figure out who this new me is. And how I take care of the new me.

Sometimes I feel I am needing a career change. Sometimes I feel so overcome with the "what if's" of terrible things that could happen to my family, and then I go into actual family homes and SEE the what if's come to life. Ironically I feel strong in those situations, and empathetic, and I feel like a good nurse. But it ADDS UP. I can feel these, seriously sometimes God AWFUL situations, start to creep their way into my psyche. My heart hurts for these people. My heart, and head, hurt when I think of this kind of sickness affecting my family.

Being a working mom at night with a pretty intense job and a stay at home mom during the day, you can imagine balance is quite a struggle. I don't know how to find the TIME to figure this out. Sometimes I feel like I have very little left of me. Sometimes I get up with Ellie who is so very TODDLER now and I feel it's all I can do to muster up the energy I need to make it to the next nap. I do everything with her. Waking up, mealtimes, bathtimes, bedtimes and all times in between (I do hire a nanny from 730-11a on the days after I work so I can SLEEP). And you know I feel BLESSED that I get to have this opportunity. Some days I am happy beyond measure that I get to see all of these milestones. And man, she is just so beautiful, and fun, and I have so much to be thankful for.

But being grateful is never in question.

Sometimes love is a burden. I never thought of it like that before and I know it doesn't sound great saying it. But moms, do you know what I mean or am I losing my mind? I love my child more than anything that ever existed. There are no words I could type that can begin to reflect this. But that love carries with it so much responsibility, and frankly, so much WORRY. And I actually feel like a pretty easy going mom. I'll let my kid climb on the furniture. I'll let her explore places many moms wouldn't. I'll go on wierd adventures with her and figure out the details later. That's not where my responsibility feels like a burden.

I need to make sure she gets through this world safe. And I need to find a way to remain balanced and present for her, but also for ME. I feel I would give her anything of me if I had to, including all of my time. But I can't be a 24/7 supermom. I am one girl, trying to remember who she is, trying to protect a heart that is now more exposed than ever.

 also, there just don't seem to be enough hours in the day.

(I need to be sleeping!)

Urban

I will tell you that I feel a downright stress during those precious weekends when the stars align and Mike is off, I am off, and it is SUMMER. I feel a need deep in my bones to get the HECK out of the city. Colorado is amazing and I want to BE in the mountains. I feel it like a need that I can't even explain.

Yet sometimes, actually often times, these precious weekends are not spent in the mountains. They are spent here, in the big city. And though I think this is a great city, I think it's a greater state, and my heart and soul YEARN for that mountain air. I feel really frustrated when we don't get out, for whatever stupid reasons we have. I look west and feel sad. I think maybe I'm just too HOT. Man have I become a wuss in all this heat.

So anyway yeah we didn't make it to the mountains this weekend. But not for LACK OF TRYING. I called, googled and emailed for hours trying to find a place to stay that wouldn't brake the bank. Nothing. I begged Mike to take our McMansion tent somewhere, anywhere, but I couldn't convince him. Instead I settled for a promise to take our bikes into higher country and spend the day on two wheels. Turns out you really need to get your act together on that one because before you know it its NAPTIME again! And then before you know it's time for the always-predictable-afternoon-shower! This weekend I did a lot of "Ergh!"ing. ERGH!!!

We never left the city at all, not even for a hike. We did go biking, go to home depot, cleaned the house, worked in the garden, yaddy yaddy yaddy bleh bleh bleh. All good stuff I know I know.

I did however manage to turn my attitude around come Sunday and embraced our weekend city bound life. And so, in light of looking at the positive, here are some very positive and wonderful highlights of our (okay okay) not so bad life in the city:

We went on a date!

We are on our date!

We played with our child!

We took pictures of our child!

We listened to jazz music in the park!

We also saw improv theater, installed roof racks for our bikes, made cerviche, took naps, enjoyed wine with friends, cleaned the house, played in the river by REI, rode Denver bike trails and relaxed.

So I should stop my bitching, right?

Right.