I had a day filled with beautiful sounds today. If I tried to describe them in detail, it wouldn’t do them justice. So, instead, in short form, here are the top three sounds I heard today:
Number 3 – The young voices of my OYP kids performing
“Singing in the Rain”.
Number 2 – Beatrice’s laugh when kissed/tickled by her Daddy.
Number 1 – The sound resulting from both kids being in bed… silence.
I happily admit that I am huge musical theatre lover and the director/performer in me can’t help but find huge amounts of beauty in a well constructed, perfectly timed, emotionally driven musical theatre performance.
I dare you to listen to any of these and not instantly feel good.
Someone I barely know told me that I looked radiant today. Then he complimented me on my jacket. Over the next eight hours, anyone that saw me said something positive about my jacket and how good it looked on me.
Talk about a happy boost!
It is gorgeous. The nicest part about it is that it was a Christmas gift from a very good friend of mine who has known me for years. She always picks out the most interesting things for me. Items that are “me”, but different.
So here it is. The picture doesn’t do it justice, but believe me it’s beautiful. And it helped me feel beautiful all day.
(as in: “Yay for retail therapy and getting new accoutrement for the downstairs bathroom.”)
(as in: “Gee your hair is voluminous today.”)
(as in: “I am optimistic that I’m going to have a good week.”)
Did you have any beautiful word encounters?
Being a mom is by far the most difficult job I have ever had. You’ve probably heard this from other people before and they are absolutely telling the truth. Being responsible for a living, breathing being is hugely stressful. Add on unrealistic expectations, a long learning curve and many unexpected challenges and you can struggle immensely from one day to the next.
I always wanted to be a mother. I can’t really explain why. I never really liked kids. Even as a young person, I preferred spending time with people older than me. The perfect example of this was at my grade 8 graduation. I shocked many of my friends by showing up with not one, but two “dates”. Both of them were over the age of 20. They were (and still are) like brothers to me. I was always more comfortable with people more mature than me. It gave me something to work towards. Playing with kids younger than me always felt forced. It just didn’t come naturally to me. But yet I always knew I’d be a mom someday.
I had “baby blues” after Alexandra-Joy was born, but they were much worse after Beatrice was born. Full-blown postpartum depression kicked the life right out of me. Throughout all the difficult times, there was always one thing I felt I could do “right” as a mom and that was breastfeed.
I’ve heard of so many women having breastfeeding issues and other than the odd bout of mastitis, breastfeeding came really naturally to me. AJ had latched on properly within her first 24 hours… Beatrice within her first 24 minutes. I was blessed. And while some women find the exhaustion and hormonal ups and downs during feeding a deterrent, I loved it. It didn’t matter if some days I felt completely lost and clueless, I knew I could provide nourishment for my baby.
Specifically during stressful times, breastfeeding calmed me more than any spa could. Sitting down, in the quiet, holding a warm bundle of baby close, having her sweet little eyes look up at me, her chubby hand tugging gently on my shirt… those were the simple, easy to manage moments that made my crazy life as a new (and 2nd time) mom bearable.
While many people try to shove the breastfeeding ideal down he throats of new moms, I was having the opposite problem. Because I was dealing with depression, many people suggested I stop breastfeeding. Maybe the re-balancing of my hormones would help me heal quicker. And you know, maybe they are right. But I’m really not keen on saying goodbye to those quiet moments that bring me such relaxation, love and joy.
It was a pretty grey day for me today. Rainy. Stayed in all day. Dealt with an earful of wails and cries and whys. It was a day of picking up cherrios, doing 6 loads of laundry and cooking multiple meals. Mom-like drudgery. Some people thrive with it. I sometimes sludge through it with the hope I get to the next day with all the hairs in my head and possibly a shower.
I got lucky though. A few beautiful thoughts came to my mind later on in the day. But now it’s 10:45pm. And 7am will come too soon. Haven’t yet fully processed.
Sleep is also a beautiful thing. So I’m going to get some.
When I was arrived at the Shenkman Arts Centre recently, I was greeted by a beautiful sight. In front of me was a chest of drawers, made of dark stained wood and these little off-white knobs.
The knobs got my attention. They all looked slightly different. At closer inspection, I realised why. Each tiny knob was a hand-carved face. Men. Women. All different emotions and expressions. It was fascinating. If I didn’t have something to do, I would have sat there and inspected each one by one.
I’d love to own a piece like that. Though I’m not sure I’d want all those tiny people staring at me while I slept.