Category Archives: where’s my worry stone?

this is my mantra for today

I am not the most obsessive-compulsive, it’s-never-good-enough person on this little spinney planet: I am not too picky to ever be happy.

I just have difficulty conceiving of details and small steps. However much I think I’m not, I am a primo, typical Aries in this way. I am teachable and mutable and still am growing. My faults are not inherent flaws; they are challenges and obstacles. There are many small worries, not One Giant Horrible Thing I’ve Fucked Up. Many of them simply need quiet and gentle attention and to be gifted with little bits of time.

Ganesha help me to rise to the challenges I create for myself, to learn from each perceived problem.

There is a need to remind myself stuff like:

  • there may be no perfect template on wordpressdotcom that fits my style exactly. It is OK to slowly learn the coding and it can be just pretty cool in the mean time. Aesthetic crap is not important enough to raise my blood pressure.
  • being cranky and resentful means I am a tired and utterly normal mommy, and does not mean I should file for freaking divorce.
  • whether or not to shave my legs for the beach trip is not a life changing decision. I am not on some Is She Feminist Enough? reality show where women with Ph.D.’s and hemp menstrual pads will vote me off the island if I decide to shave my legs. Likewise, it’s highly unlikely that a sorority of tanned blonde bikini people will gang up on me and kick sand at me if I show up in my normal mammal state at Daytona Beach. I won’t ruin the wedding because the bride’s mom will be so busy tsk tsk ing at the photographer’s wife’s hairy pale legs that she’ll miss the kiss. Won’t happen.
  • if I want to be a work at home mom, I have to WORK AT HOME. It is not a sin to use a babysitter (‘specially loving family babysitter) if I’m not at the day job. Two year olds zOMG need to be attached to mommies, and this makes for me not working. Someday working on my creative stuff will seriously pay off, but I have to invest intention, attention, time, and effort now. This is not neglect of my baby. This. IS. NOT. Neglect. Of. My. Baby.

OK. Thank you for holding my hand, tiny therapist priestesses who live in teh web.

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commercialism, laziness, and not so much with the weaning

We’ve ordered a Little Mermaid cake. The Bird is obsessed with Her Fishy-taled-ness lately. I’m cranky. There’s a thread on my local mommy board about how many of the mamas shun licensed characters and TV. It brought up some icky feelings. Loving the concept of monitoring all that your kids are exposed to and keeping their childhood as innocent as humanly possible. (Also am very sick of fast-forwarding through the scary bits and feeling guilt for letting her watch videos that are too mature for her. And in less coherent moments of annoyance, raging at Disney for being such a twisted bunch of scary fucks in the first place.)

However: I’m absolutely too exhausted from thinking about every little thing. Also pretty sure that a Disney-inclusive childhood did not ruin me. She has massive mermaid squee and it’s hard to ban anything that makes the munchkin that freaking happy. (The video came in a load of hand-me-downs and she was enchanted from the moment she saw the box. A fishy! A princess! A princess who is fishlike! zOMG!)

Is it just laziness that makes me resent the feeling that doing things in accordance with my parenting intuition is a constant uphill battle against everyone and everything in our environment? It’s not a real big deal to me, this Disney Princess thingy- I suggested the cake theme. It’s just swimming ’round there in my brain, being examined. I’m just sick to death of feeling like I have good ideas but not doing anything about them because it’s easier to flow. Swim with the school. Snerk. I just wonder what it means that I take the easy way so often… I’m pretty sure it means

I am very, very tired
and have to cut myself some slack from the uber-granola ideals I have.

To address that, Bu has suggested that I leave the house a few nights at bedtime to let him take over. Maybe I can sneak back in and she’ll stay in bed with him. The weaning trend has reversed, and I’ve had to nurse her to sleep and through the days too. Then, of course, all through the nights. As tomorrow is the birthday, I think Friday night will be a better time to start the experiment. It also happens that a bunch of girls are going to see Sex and the City and have drinks that night, so the timing is good.

The Ariel thing isn’t all fraught with commercial anxieties, anyway. I read the Hans Christian Anderson story when I was young and I love it, so there’s some sentimentality watching her love the story too. Maybe I’ll get her the real version when she’s older and I’ll feel better. I had thought of making my own illustration and having a non-Disney mermaid cake, but- again- exhausted.

sainthood + baby pagan prayers

Did you know I’m eligible for sainthood? Yes. I am. I’m pretty sure that mothering a child for 23 months, 6 days, 4 hours, and eleven minutes without doing any of the following qualifies one for sainthood:

  1. Losing my goddamned mind
  2. Slapping, spanking, biting, or otherwise hurting the child
  3. Killing, castrating, or divorcing her father
  4. Selling her on eBay

She is in a spitting phase, she has a cold, we did not sleep, she will not eat, she will not be anywhere but my arms or [out]”side.”

Speaking of religion… she insisted we say grace tonight before she ate adamantly refused to eat dinner. I did a generic improv thing with generic “Lord and Lady,” which always makes me feel so old skool trad Wiccan. Which I am not. But I was charmed that she likes to say a meal blessing- the grandies have taught her.

Google turned this up:

Mother of Plenty, bless this bread
Father of the Grain, lend your seed
Let it nourish heart and head
Let it nourish thought and deed
Let its breaking be a spell
That hungry mouths be fed as well
And let its eating keep us free
As is our will
So mote it be!

Cute. I like. My searches for bedtime blessings yielded more poetry and made me say “aw…” and leak breastmilk they were so precious. (Argh! Where are they? I saved them… Oh. I’m a dork: My Docs->babybookofshadows.doc) OK. Look how adorable:

Day is done, it’s time for bed
Goddess bless my sleepy head
Earth and Water, Air and Fire
Bring gentle dreams as I retire
When the morning sun does rise
God will bless my open eyes

Now I lay me down to sleep,
Please help me learn my world to keep.
To guard the air and skies of blue,
The oceans, lakes and rivers too.
Save the mighty forest lands,
The plains, the shores, the desert sands.
Protect all creatures, wild and free,
In air, on land, and in the sea.

scary blog tiresome brain

Sometimes the concept of blogging just totally freaks me out. It’s so… publishy. My thoughts are online, visible to the public, and I feel committed to them then. Like yesterday I was all aglow about being a mom and a women in her thirties and now I feel like a colossal mess and it’s like I defined myself as that person I was yesterday but today I’m different and yesterday’s posts feel oppressive.

The mess feeling? It’s origin? No earthly idea. I’m just crazy. And possibly bored. Like Bored with Everything. Restless. Being in the office on a sunny spring day is unhealthful. I’m also mentally beating the shit out of myself about absolutely nothing of consequence and this is not good.

I want to be a person who has small, warm, comfortable thoughts. I don’t like negotiating the gulf between my giant supernova thoughts and my whispering black ice thoughts. I can’t find grey area. This comes of as very manic depressive, but it’s not like that, really. Probably. I’m just tired of thinking in extremes that overwhelm me.

Today I want SSRI’s. Instead I will walk out into the very pretty sun for a minute and breathe. Regroup. It’s comforting to have that filter now- to see that I need to refocus myself and trust that it’ll probably work. Used to just lie there spinning for days on end.

Edit: Small shot of sunshine and a quick chat with Laura did wonders. Am now so much better that I think I’d like to delete this post but am not, because it was real and me and it’s nice to have here so i can go back and say, “You know what? Wigginess is temporary. Carry on.”

meditation day

My model canceled for tomorrow. It’s annoying, and every day missed working on my print is a little extra stress, but it also frees my morning up. My church has a Buddhist meditation workshop in the morning. At least one of my Earthways people is going, and I really wanted to go and was really bummed to miss it for the model session.

So I’ll spend the morning tomorrow sinking into the quiet of myself and communing with others looking for some peace and focus.

I may have Bu shoot a couple of snapshots of me in the evening and see if I can use those for my drawings.

I have the whole thing completed in my mind and that’s making me feel both excited and worried. The worry is about being predictable and churning out a piece that is old school me and doesn’t reflect any growth since my last work-work. And then there is a voice in me laughing at myself making all this fuss about a freaking digital collage.

“It’s just art.” An artist I know said that to me one time, and I think I looked at her like she was from another planet. Art is The Big Fucking Thing- the calling, the definition of me, the standard, the end all be all of existence by which I judge myself- and when I say “judge myself”, think of Paul Bettany in The Da Vinci Code with the self flagellating. I don’t know why it’s such a huge thing to me to be a serious fine artist, but it is. And it isn’t. Some part of me thinks I should be content to make cool designs and websites and greeting cards and  T-shirts. Then the part of me that is holding onto all those philosophy and art theory textbooks and wigs out about this little show freaks out and think I’m selling myself short being a graphic artist when I have Very Big, Capitalized Ideas.

So yeah? Buddhist meditation nao plz? Shut up my brain so I can make something creative and enjoy it.

Fuck.

logo feedback, s’il vous plait

furryzenlogocomps.jpg

Help me decide. Suggest fine tuning. Let me know how the colors look together on your monitor, because my own jacked up one reads them as darker than they are in the rest of the ‘verse.

The zen is more fur/less blur at full size than it looks here. I assume I’ll be able to export it with full furriness intact.

I always get tiny belly butterflies when I submit designs to the LJ Graphic Design community. Am always certain, deep in my brain, that someone is going to say: “Dude, just because you have a BA in art (the generic, non-BFA kind) with concentrations in  Bullshitting Papers About Other People’s Art and Making Goddesses Out of Mud, this does not make you a Designer. You are a poser, and also, a loser. You suck, and so do your logos. You clearly learned Illustrator from free on-line tutorials.” But no one does, because they are nice and not at all scary. It’s all in my head.

snapshot

triangle family

Cross-posted at Wabi Sabi Mamas, which has yet to officially launch but is being updated:

So in my newfound Nowness I have found that Molly is absofuckinglutely adorable between the little mini-tantrums. I have laughed a lot with her this week. In other elephant news, we saw Horton Hears a Who, and it was fabulous. She had fun and was “easy” that day. We took a three year old sorta-niece too, and they were very BFF. This means there are two kids that she will play with relatively drama-free. Awesome development.