Sorry to be posting so late in the day, but this has been an up and down, crazy kind of week. Full of visits from my mom (whom I didn’t want to leave), migraines that ate up two days, trying to work while bouncing off of my goofy kids, trying to brainstorm and name this foundation, feeling utterly and completely daunted at the thought of starting this foundation by myself, reconnecting with old friends who know and love me still after all these years and trying to squeeze in some soul searching and growth into the cracks.
The Girl is almost three. Man do I hate three. Three gets under my skin like nothing else. It’s all whiny and amorphous. Full of temper tantrums and a sudden swinging from loving superheroes and trucks to all things princess and pink. What am I supposed to do with pink?!? I’ve no idea what to do with a girly girl. So this little girl that has been like my heart walking around outside my body for the past almost three years is now a bit of a stranger and that is hard to take. It happened to me with The Boy too, but it’s still taken me a wee bit off guard. And I know it won’t be the last time for either of them. Namely when puberty hits, I know they’ll be body snatched. Hopefully I’ll be more prepared by then. Have a contingency plan or an emergency kit or something in place. Or maybe just a really stiff martini.
And I’m finding myself in a general dearth of day dreaming. My best writing seems to come from those moments when everything just turns off and I find myself somewhere else, writing furiously fast in my head. And there has been none of that this past week. I think I’ve let the pendulum swing too far the other way. Going from being totally immersed in some fairytale to trying to just be present, I’ve gone all the way to stripping the fun, texture and glee from the moments. So once again, I am struggling for balance. To be present and authentic in every moment. Wish me luck.
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