growing curious

phew

It's a sign of my life as a household appliance... ooops...  I mean stay-at-home mom... that the big beneft for E's school last night became a bizarre, stressful monster in my life for the last two or three months.

I'm too embarrassed to write it all out in detail, but I signed up to contribute a few creative projects for the event.  I was stressed about finishing them.  I was stressed about sharing them because important parts of me would be exposed to all.  I was stressed about being in a room full of people and was trying to remember how to be friendly.  I was stressed about making sure D's mom was comfortable watching E so long and so late.  I was weirded out by being kid-free in the afternoon and night  for 7 hours.

Over the last month, as I've finished each creative project for the event, I've felt excited and worried.  It took so much effort and angst to sit down with myself long enough to complete them.  Would people like what I contributed?  Would they view me differently?  I felt scared.

Now the event is over.  What I brought was welcomed.  I managed to enjoy myself despite my excruciating shyness.  

Now I am free to resume my regular life so I'm drinking tea and trying to climb back into my skin.

This morning we'll go visit my mom for breakfast and then come home and work in the yard all weekend. 

big questions late at night

Today was a good day.  Sun, garden, unexpected kid-free time, dinner at a new restaurant and then a walk afterwards.  We even ran into friends while on our walk -- a very bizarre experience for homebodies like us.

However, I am sleepless at 3am.  My muscles are so sore that my bones hurt.  Every single part of my body aches from garden work.  Tomorrow is going to be another sunny day in the garden so I'm worried about this sleeplessness.

We have some extra cottage stones leftover from our last project so I decided to reclaim another unused area of our vegetable garden to make a bed for artichokes.

I'm still worried that the asparagus hasn't come up yet.  I thought that the crowns would send up shoots right away after they were put into the ground.  I worry I put the crowns in upside down.

I like the idea of perennial vegetables.  I like rhubarb fine -- but not enough to grow it.  Having asparagus and artichokes would be wonderful.  We'll see...  this is a long-term experiment...

I still wish I knew who I am now and what I could do for work someday when E spends more time in school.  This has been such a struggle for me.  I worry about it 150% of every waking moment.  I did that old work for a long time, and I hate it.  But I'm not quite equipped yet to do the things that I love doing now in a professional way. 

I don't know how to find myself within this unknowing and move forward. 

I think I need an impartial coach of some sort.

And I still don't know how much of my creative energy will come back to me as E grows older.  For now, at 4, she is still so consuming.

I really feel lost about this.  Will I have more energy in the next few years?  Can I figure out how to get a job again?  I'm almost 45, so these questions have a different urgency to them.

joy

I have been trying to share with D about how things are going for me.  I don't feel "depressed" in a way that's familiar to me.  I think maybe my body and mind are so wrung out from anxiety that it's difficult for me to feel joy or to take small, meaningful steps forward.

Things with my MIL and my mother have been getting me down.  I have been procrastinating on some creative projects, and those deadlines are looming.  I just feel lost.   I don't know who I am these days.  I went out in the garden to see if there were any asparagus spears poking up, and I took it personally that they weren't up yet.  I feel like Charlie Brown, expecting the worst or something.

But here is some joy!  We've never had an Easter egg hunt with E before.  She loved it.  My MIL dyed the eggs with her.  I was frustrated that she took over with that because I wanted to try some natural plant dyes, but maybe we can do that next year.  It seemed very important to L that she was in charge of the egg dyeing project, and sometimes...  well...  I have to choose my battles.  You know?

I like this picture of E reaching up toward an egg higher up on the berm.  The plants are starting to grow again, and I love seeing the flowering cherry umm... flowering.  What looks like unruly grass is really our herbal lawn.  It's mostly fluffy yarrow, and I won't give it a haircut until the yarrow blooms and I can harvest the flowers for teas.  It's luscious to walk upon.

D is making dinner to give me a break.  He's making chicken and mashed potatoes.  I went out in the garden just a bit ago to pick kale and mustard greens to add to the dinner.  We are so lucky. 

equinox

I have a tradition to check-in here on the spring equinox:  2008, 2007, 2006.  

This tradition is left over from my old, hand-coded ("home-spun" if you will) online journal called Cook's Diary.  I began that project more than a decade ago, and I had to put it on hiatus a couple of times because I shared too much there and a few people misused my writing. 

Here is a diary entry from spring equinox 2001.  Here is one from 2000 -- something I wrote soon after D and I got together.  Here is one from 1999. 

Here we are now in 2009.  I'm still shell-shocked.  Let me take stock... 

There is a really nice husband.  He still has lovely, tired eyes.  He has grown so much at work, and he is turning our home into a great place with his own hands, smarts, and tractor.  He's a wonderful dad.  I don't know how he does everything he does -- especially when I freak out about making dinner.  At night, he puts his hand on my back, and I just melt and heal.  He doesn't have to do anything but put his hand on me.  He is magic.

There is a kid who is 4, and she keeps telling strangers that her mom is 44.  "I am one 4, and my mom is two 4's!"  She likes to do puppet shows, and last week she pretended she was a mermaid dog who was making pear cake. 

There has been illness and death all around over here this year.  In her grief, my mother has been upsetting.  I'm not sure what to do for her right now.  Our last conversation left me feeling really icky about my own life because she was so critical of things that are important to me. 

Thanks to D and his patience, we finished the new raised bed for his mother so this weekend we will dump dirt into it and try to find some asparagus rhizomes to put in one corner of the new bed.  Now L will have space to grow her own things, and the bed will be raised a bit to help her use it without discomfort.

Any thoughts on your inner garden?  Equinox is a time to notice what's stirring within us.

Blessings and growth to you!  Happy spring!

today, i...

woke up from a horrific PTSD nightmare that was more realistic than symbolic.

got E into playclothes and settled on the bed so that she could watch cartoons while D continued to sleep.

took a shower and tried to shake away my anxiety.

emptied the dishwasher.

let the dog out and went out in the snow to get the paper.

made E's bed.

made eggs and toast (and bacon for them) for breakfast and had to coax them to the table.

cleaned up from breakfast.

changed bed linens and did laundry (ultimately five loads).

called my grieving cousin.  no answer.  left long message.

read the newspaper.  handled some correspondence.  tried to send supportive messages to a few people.

made granola.

prepared leftover miso soup and noodles for D and E.  tried to coax them up for lunch.

cleaned up from lunch.

called a long-lost, overworked friend.  no answer.  left a long, encouraging message.

ordered E's birthday cake while she screamed at me from another room.

did another dishwasher load.

watched a robin sit on the fence for a long time and brought out a saucer of seed for it.  later saw it pulling worms out of the dirt as soon as the snow had melted.

surveyed the pantry and began a long grocery list.

began making lentil soup because lentils are cheap and humble, and sometimes that's the right way to get back to health.

cut my finger badly.  (kept blood from food, thankfully)

finished making lentil soup.

cleaned the messy kitchen.

did more laundry.

took a petulant child on a long walk during which we told one another birthday stories, picked up trash and talked about how to keep the earth healthy.  tried to answer E's question:  "What does the Earth do when it's hungry or needs to go poop?"

washed and dried big bowls and the cookie sheet from the granola.

did even more laundry.

fielded a call from my mother-in-law, who wanted to talk about her arthritic knee.  was truly concerned and tried to be supportive.

am still thinking about the horrible dream and about how true it is on psychodynamic and structural levels.  am truly freaked out.

am trying to type with big bandaid on my finger.

wonder if there's meaning to my life beyond what I do in this house or for my family.

feel isolated but tried hard today to reach out. 

wonder if my dad will be going back to the hospital this week.  two weeks seem to have escaped from my mother's awareness because she's been so preoccupied with his tenuous situation.  she was shocked that next week will be the last week in January already.  worried for them both.

feel overwhelmed about old wounds.

am tired of PTSD and the ongoing struggle to regain my health, self-esteem, and sense of hope.

three good things

We spent all day Saturday at the River City Bluegrass Festival.  D's mom even came.  E danced, ran around, got up close to the musicians, got to meet Sierra Hull, and was able to hear and be inspired by many young musicians.  All day fun.  Very good.  I went back down there after E went to bed, but I realized I was too saturated and tired to enjoy any more music.  I stayed until I was able to hear a bit of Jerry Douglas (big crush) and came home. I guess I need more practice being out at night.

Yesterday, I got outside to weed a little bit.  The hill in front is covered in bittercress.  I like it plenty and last year put it in salads sometimes, but yesterday I just tossed it in the yard debris bin.  I noticed that the trees are beginning to bud a bit so perhaps we should do our pruning this month instead of next.  It was chilly and foggy out, and the last of the snow melted away this weekend...  I'm a little surprised by the early growth out there.  It's been months since I've done any work outside.  It felt good.  Big sigh...  oh yeah...  plants, dirt...  these things make me feel whole.

What was the third good thing?  I forget.  How about a nice cup of Yunnan Jig?  Sometimes I can't believe how quickly a cup of good tea soothes away the rough edges.  Now, if I could just get a little quiet along with the tea, I'd be a very happy woman.

Oh yeah...  I remember the original third good thing:  Crayon Physics Deluxe.  Better than therapy.