note to self, during the most-needed nap

Don’t go on vacation with a toddler and forget a stroller. Will be buying a cheap one tonight.

Don’t take a baby for a hot sunny walk in the sand for a half-mile or so and forget drinking water.

Don’t take aforementioned tired, hot, dehydrated toddler out and neglect to bring the diaper bag.


So, after I scooped out the dried-out baby cement poo and got her to chug some milk, she passed out cold and stayed. I’ll pay for this long, late nap later, but hey. It’s vacation, so I’m not being OCD mama. The only rule is there are no rules. Except the ones above re: stroller, drinks, poop:) 


argh: teh wifi is borked

Listen carefully, and you can hear Bird say, "bye" too:)

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beach bird

It’s been such an intense day. I’m sitting here now, watching the shore darken from our hotel window. It’s got a wall to wall ocean view. Bu and the baby are walking out on the beach. She can’t get enough of it. She and I just returned from her second visit. Bu has adorable photos from the window of our room.

We drove in today about 2:00 pm, and immediately she wanted to walk to the edge of the lot to see the “osh.” She was giddy- more than I’d expected. She’s so little I didn’t know how much she’d grok ocean-being.

After we settled, we suited up and walked down to the beach to play in the high tide and video her reaction. We got a little snippet on our Fuji snapshot camera that takes short videos.

She was blissed way out. She loved sitting in the sand and waiting for the surf to wash over us and splash. When a big wave soaked us and she choked for a moment, she shook it off like a pro.

I sat there, butt in sand and hairy soft legs covered in salt, holding her around the waist as she squealed and splashed and giggled. I thought, “This is the best moment of my life.” I’m tearing now recalling it. The ocean gets me like that- I’ve only been to the Atlantic four (no- five. Maine, chilly on the Summer Solstice, always gets forgotten) times before this trip, but I feel a deep peace and belonging at the beach. Is that a human thing or just me? I dream of living on an island. Mom loved the beach like this too. She lived on Nag’s Head a while. We took her ashes to Cape Hatteras.

Sharing the ocean with my tiny girl, her honey curls with salty drops damp against my cheek, my chest shaking with her wild laughter- it was perfect in a soul-quieting, beautifully poetic way.

Bu was at our side with the camera, but the moment was like my very own. It’s a gift he gave me to let me hold her like that and be washed together in the tide. Tides… I love being here where I can see them and feel the rhythm of them surround me ankle deep while I walk along, drinking in the sound of it.

Molly has taken to asking to hold the moon. She points and yells “Moon: Hold?” and cups her hands. It turns me inside out. She does that with TV and books, too, (begging to hold the kitten or baby or Curious George) but the moon? She’s amazing.

I don’t know when I can actually post. The WiFi server’s down in the hotel. We are sharing a room now with the bridal couple. How shitty is that for them? If I’d have had to bunk with us pre-wedding, I’d probably have cancelled and scheduled a tubal ligation for the next morning:)

Bu and I are rocking the skillz, though. We’re discussing parenting more, being a better team. It’s a really difficult time for the three of us, but it’s punctuated with amazing faery like bursts of sweet toddler energy that balance the equation.

from utterz:

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liberal, ftw! (or: let’s see which i can abuse more- the hyphen or the parenthesis)

Did y’all see this on Salon? It’s a great article about the leftifying of America and is full of excellent information that makes me feel positive and proud of my bleedy heart: Relax, Liberals, You’ve Already Won.

I also discovered, or was involved in co-discovery with, Lynn Alexander’s The Essential Industry. Lynn has a fascinating and smart blog she runs from Pittsburgh, my own Pet Big City. (I am sooo urban and hip because I lived in a gigantic city of wild burghiness for a whole ten months. Did you know?) Lynn has an insightful post about health care and the pure, unmitigated bullshit that is mandatory purchased health insurance.

I’m really enamored with the concept of her blog, i.e. that creative human enterprises are the only true essential industry. I love that the home of said blog is the steel-and-smoke-stained-stone scape of Pittsburgh. I love this, and (I’m reading so many incredible blogs based out of there) the idea that there is this change of the guard happening between evil, polluting, capitalist, eat-everything-in-it’s-path industry and hand-made/fair-trade/sustainable goods.  It  has obviously not reached the tipping point yet but  you can kinda feel the energy rising, y’know?

Somewhere while I was drinking in Lynn’s blog with my coffee this morning, I saw an allusion to the sort of apologetic or closeted stance liberals sometimes take. (Gak- can’t find it now.) But that along with the Salon article sort of buoyed my spirits. I felt like churning out a trillion liberal slogan teeshirts and wearing them everywhere or getting a tattoo on my forehead of a peace sign with a rainbow triangle and a pentagram and a venus symbol with a fist:)

I also Publicly Apologize for the terrific injustice I have done to you by forgetting to show link love to Thomai of MetaHara. Check out her video montage of her production projects- below- and read her journal.

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.

songs about mom

Someone found this blog searching for “songs about mom.” That made me ache a little bit, the simple poetry of the phrase. The fact that some zeros and ones somewhere saw my blog as a song about mom.

This is my favorite song about mom- Mama by Beth Hart. Whoever posted it disabled embedding, but if you haver heard it, click. It thrusts right into your chest and grabs your heart and squeezes hard. I think I’ve heard it two thousand times and I tear up every single time. In lieu of embedding Mama, here is Skin, which is similarly gut-wrenching.