Saturday, January 15, 2011

daily scene 1/15/11

Yeah, I'm wishing for warm weather.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Monday, January 10, 2011

Monday Afternoon

How is it that my life is always torn between joy and struggle? Or that I'm often laughing while tasting the tears that streak my face? Oh wait. That is life. I'll take it over complacency.

I wrote that as my status on Fb the other day.  You know, it's so true... this day I wanted to put my face down and just cry but I've got three little babies looking at me all day so I have to keep going, all that plaster dust from the weekends activities... and I'm cleaning and playing the same sweet song over and over... trying to not feel the despair of of not enough money, not enough energy and pasta again for dinner...then I look over and on the chair is little Alice Rose, looking for all the world like a Lost Boy, grubby and disheveled, swaying and singing, the sunlite falling full on her funny upturned face and I swing her up into my arms and dance and dance around in the kitchen in the burst of unexpected winter sun.
And the two boys come running in, grab my legs and we sway and we sing and they don't care it I'm out of tune and that the floor is dirty and that it is pasta again.  They are filling up my house with love.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

daily scene 1/9/11

Fra helps with construction.

Saturday, January 8, 2011

Mooooooom! What's for dinner?

Hell, if I know, Kid.
Heres an apple, now leave me alone.
I'm writing.

daily scene 1/8/11

Friday, January 7, 2011

Sure, it takes a village.

Do you ever just think you need to say: thank you thank you thank you  and hope that karma or god or fate or whatever you believe will spread it to ears of those who should hear it?  I think it right now.  And also,
 I love you I love you I love you -- if you think there is a chance I mean you in any of this, well you are right.
You've heard, we all have-- it takes a village to raise a child.  Now you're gonna roll your eyes or sigh or stop reading because you've heard this already.  Well, why don't you listen.  Yeah , it takes a village to raise a child, it takes mama friends and daddy friends and childless friends and teenagers and other kids to raise a child... but thats not what my thank yous and i love yous are for.  Because you know what else takes a village, we do each one of us, no one lives in void.  No not you, tough sexy artist guy, not you awesome stylish childless woman, not you hippy mama, suburban mother, you somewhere in between mama.  No we need each other.  It takes a village to raise me.  Me at almost 37, I'm on FB , on blogs, on the phone, text, posting, meeting at coffee shops, bars, front porches... I need you to tell me what shampoo you use, what to do with my baby's cough, that I'm okay, that you like my top, that you care what I think about politics and dinner and that book and where I bought my jeans and if the world is crashing down around us.  I need you, you need me... pretend you don't and you are lying.
It takes a village to raise a child, to embrace the adult and someday to lead us to the next step, what ever you believe comes After.
Lately my village is sending a lot love my way, it is coming sprinkled like pixie dust thru the invisible lines of the internet and in the irl voices of friends.  So you know who you are, my village.  Thank you.  I love you.

daily scene 1/7/11

Okay, so this isn't recent, it is from September... but January in Indiana has me dreaming of the desert.  Asher in Vegas.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

What if there is a heaven?

And well I believe in Heaven even on the days that I know I only believe in god because I want to believe so I won't feel so alone.  But Heaven, oh hell yes, I believe.
 I believe when I die I open my finally clear eyes to an door in front of me with the numbers 340 next to it and I'll push it all the way open and walk through it... through the small and paneled porch with the tangle of green living and to the living room filled with people who shout my name and jump to their feet, ignoring that Cubs game on tv as they engulf me in their arms and their laughter and their questions and how pretty I look just like my mother.  I will kiss their cheeks and take their hands and pick up the babies and turn my head while the shout by Harry Carey - Cubs Win! comes from the tv and and everyone cheers and I hand back the babies
and walk thru the little dining room with mirror covered in cards and photographs, I'll stop and pick up a cookie from the table and stuff it in my mouth... from the bedrooms is the sound of the radio playing irish music someone is singing If I had the wings of an angel, over these prison walls I would fly... and I peek in the other bedroom where a little red headed child puts down her dolls and smiles sweetly, sweetly.
I'll head to kitchen and pause and let my breathe shudder out in a tremor and place my hand on the doorframe where the lines and dates and names mark the growth and passage of time... and then there is her, she looks up at me where she is sitting at the table in the nimbus of light flooding through the kitchen windows in that little kitchen.
She puts her coffee cup in it's saucer and stands up, looks at me, she takes my hands with her capable, calloused ones and she is young and ancient and she kisses my face Squeakycheeks, she says and touches my hair, so beautiful and frizzy like your mother . And we just stand there with world spinning all around us, through the open summer windows is the sound of all the children of generations and their mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and they shout and laugh and argue and head across the way the to the Forest Preserve Race you to the Indian Tree and over her shoulder and through my tears I can see the steeples of St Andrew's , when I close my eyes I hear the bells ringing Angelus and filling my lungs and my head and my heart and emptying the years of heartache and loss and pain until even they become part of the joys and loves and beauties of my life , filling me up like a wild river flooding over it's banks, spilling across the land to feed the new growth and the whole world.
She smiles,
We've been waiting.

I have 5 kids.

Yes, thats right, I have 5 kids.  I can see your eyebrows go up.  I can see all your pre-conceived notions kick in as well as my paranoia, so here we go...
No I'm not Christian. (as a friend once said, Jesus figured into conception only as an expletive)
No I don't home school. (no offense to those who do, but hell, no.)
Yes they all have the same BabyDaddy. (And would it be any of your damned business if they didn't?)
No I don't wear demin skirts, unless the they are short.
I don't have Jesus hair.  I have awesome hair.
Yes I know how IT happened.
No I don't think thats funny.
No I didn't use invitro.  (And would it be any of your damned business if I did?)
Yes I've heard of overpopulation.
Yes I work.  I work and work and work.  Plus I have jobs, too.
Here's what I can tell you.  I love my kids.  I love my husband.  I love our small and untidy house that we are slowly adding to until it becomes The Burrow, I don't mind being compared to the Weasley's.
I like to drink.  I'd like a drink right now.  In fact quite often I would like to be far away from my darling, clever, loud children with a drink.  Drunk in a dark bar. Or having sex.  Or both.  Which could possibly explain the 5 children...
I consider myself lazy, selfish and self centered. And I try to improve on those things although most people don't see that way. Well, they don't see me as lazy, I'm not.  I am most certainly both arrogant and extremely insecure and talk to myself, often in the third person.... probably comes from reading too many novels.  I yell.  I lose my temper.  I love frozen pizza and will happily feed it to my kids.  And while I am very healthy food conscious, I will bribe my kids with Dum-Dum lollys.  No problem.
Being a mother defines almost everything I do.  It defines my day and what I wear, it changed the way I write and photograph and speak and, god knows, sleep.  It is not kittens and hearts and sweet white haired crumpled faced grannies on Mother's Day cards.  It is TigerLove and metaphorical revolvers tucked in the waistband of my skinny jeans(thats right, mama of 5 and I wear skinny jeans), it is wanting to run away to Mexico with either my imaginary love slave Raoul or Jon Stewart  (it varies, depending on my mood), it is anger and fatigue and sheer apathy sometimes.  It is the most remarkable love, love that is that TigerLove, ferocious and destructive.  Love that is the revolver, because yes I will die for them but watch out 'cause I will pull that gun out with a steady hand and steady aim if I need too.  They are mine, my blood, my skin, my heart beat to carry, it was my breath that panted to birth them. They are mine to guide and protect. Mine to accept that with every second they change and move away from me til the day they leave my home... but even then, mine in my heart, mine to protect and love and accept until I die and maybe even after.
So yeah I have tattoos and yeah, I like sex and wine and say fuck entirely too much.  But I am a good mama.  Maybe I don't look the way you think a mama of 5 should look or act or speak.  But I am a mama of 5 and I kick some serious child rearing ass.

Daily scene 1/6/11

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Here's what's great about being poor.

No really.  There are a lot of things great about being poor.  Mostly it sucks.  But when you are poor like us, technically poor... but able to survive, sometimes... on days with clarity, you can see the good.
Here is my list for the day.
1. Drugstore brands are just as good.  Yup, I use to buy Body Shop body butter, now I buy fragrance free coco butter with VitE.  Super cheap and AT LEAST as good as Body Shop.  Dove soap-- the best.  CVS tampons are the same as Tampax.
2. With White Vinegar and Baking soda you can-- whiten your teeth, exfoliate, clean your house-- no really, thats all we use-- clean cloth diapers, make your sheets smell fresh and lovely, well clean anything.  And NO exfoliating with baking soda does not irritate the skin, in fact it is gentler but as effective as any other exfoliater I have used, including Clinque.
3. You find out who your friends are.  The ones who talk you out of trees.  The ones who text you at 10 pm when you are crying.  The ones who email you or call you when you need someone to tell you that not only will it be okay, but that being without money doesn't mean you are a failure, despite what our society says.  They don't care that your clothes are old or cheap, they compliment your fashion taste.
4. On that note, you discover that cheap fun really is the best.  Hanging out at friends with pitch in snacks and some wine.  Hanging at friend's place of work because they get a discount.  (yeah, you know who you are!), being able to travel because you can stay at friend's house-- or a friend of a friend.
5. Ingenuity.  Coming up with fun delicious meals despite needing to feed a family of 7 on $100 a week.  Building beautiful furniture because it it is cheaper and you CAN.  Living in a small space and making it bigger by the sheer will of a tax return, your own hands and the generous and capable hands of family member who cares and gives.  Having fun with out money and making it good for your children so they don't see the lack of money, they only see the fun.  And love.  Lots of love.

Well, Hello New Year.

This year began with tears.  Tears for my past, tears for the fear that future will be the same as the past, tears of bitterness and anger and just sorrow, tears for days and days.  Well, today is the 5th and I' m calling it New Year's day.  I could count my blessings all day long but doing that isn't what's going to pay my disconnect on my gas bill or buy milk or keep me patient with three small children today.  Today I resolve to follow my resolutions... no, I dislike that word... my goals for the year.  Last years goals were like this:  (With a commentary on how we did.... )

Make more  (well, we did, but we still fell under the poverty line)
Save at least $20 a month (ah, nope, didn't happen)
Pay bills on time (that didn't happen either)


Eat less processed food (improving all the time)
compost more (yes)
recycle more (yes)
Buy less, buy less new (yes)
Garden!!!  (could have been better , but wasn't bad....)
Insure the whole family (Nope, I'm still not insured)

Em and Chris:

Time together sans kids (this one is tough... but getting there)
Each have time "alone"(or with friends)  (yes... doing better)


Lose 15 pounds  (okay, so in 2010 I lost twenty, so in 2011 I want to lose 5 more--and stop)
Stop yelling  (uh.... )
Blog  (Okay, I blogged but only photo related... didn't touch this one... so here we go...)
Enjoy the day  (sigh.  Trying to relax.  Thank you xanax)

I like those goals I'm keeping them.  Last year we did achieved a lot.  This year... we can do better.
Okay.  Here we go. No more tears. well, hell, thats a lie... let's go for less tears.  Hello 2011.  

Daily Scene. 1/5/11

So here's one to go with my no more tears resolution.