Good Enough

When I’m in the car and the kids are locked into their seats I experience a certain feeling of euphoria.

It’s a time when I know they’re not getting into anything, they may be yelling at each other but they can’t hurt one another, really it’s fantastic.

Other moms may take this oppurtunity to get to know their children on a deeper level. They may use the time their children are strapped down to impart further light and knowledge, or inoculate them with spiritual wisdom.

My hats off to these mothers, that never let a teaching moment go by.

Me? I like to turn on the radio, or play a CD.  And I’m not talking FM Disney or We Sing and Play. Sometimes I play my talk radio, while other times I’m in the mood to rock out. At these times I feel like if gas weren’t so gall durned expensive I might just keep right on driving, past my destination point, because somehow I feel like this is quality “me time.”

There’s just one thing that stops me from truly disappearing into my own world and running the mini-van on “auto-pilot…” It’s the constant chattering at me from the back seat. From the 4 and 7 year old.

“Mom, why are bears called bears?”  “Mom, what’s 102 plus 102?” “Mom, can we go to Chuckie Cheese for my next birthday party?” “Mom, in my dream last night my teeth turned to stone.” “Mom, can I go to Laylee’s house?”

And on, and on.

My first question is “When my kids see me rocking out, don’t they understand that I’m in ‘the zone?’ When I’m singing a song at the top of my lungs do they really expect me to stop and tell them why bears are called bears?” Which by the way I really don’t have an answer for anyway. Sometimes when the good song is playing on the radio, there IS NO REWIND BUTTON, or PAUSE. My song is playing and I have to see it through. DO YOU FEEL ME PEOPLE?

and Secondly…in these moments when I do answer or acknowledge them, sometimes I can’t fully hear what they’re saying, them being in the back seat and myself in the front. So I take this tactic…I simply say “mmm hmmm” to everything. But my question to YOU people is what exactly am I saying yes too? Is it that “mmm hmmm we can go to Laylee’s” or “mmm hmmmm sure we can go to Chuckie Cheese for your next birthday and throw money down the drain while we’re at it.”

I’ll never know. I’m sure I’ve promised many a splendid thing while I’m driving. What I really want to do is say, “Kids, Loveys, for the next twenty-something minutes anything I say must not be taken seriously. So if you ask for an Elephant or anything else while we’re in the car, the answer is really NO. Because for the next twenty minutes, Mom is on AUTO-PILOT.”

In the red corner…6′3 weighing in at 185 lbs!

check out the muscle on this one…the poor guy in green never had a chance…

and the winner is…

He’s the best.

At first I thought it was a phase, he was getting over his last heartbreak. But then I remembered little brother fighting with whoever he could get his hands on growing up. And I mean, as far back as I can remember.

I also recall a speed bag and large punching bag hanging from his room as a teenager. I never thought he was serious.

Until now.

Go little bro! 

And ladies, he is still looking for Mrs. Right.

I don’t talk about my friends much because I don’t want to make everyone jealous.

I have some really wonderful friends. Jenny is one of them. I don’t see her very often but she is a kindred spirit. She’s been hosting these writing prompts once a week and they always get me thinking.

So I’m finally participating.

This week was inspired by Back-to-school and what are we as moms doing for ourselves?

Well Jenny,

I’m writing again. Not much on the blog, but on the elusive novel. It puts the twinkle in my eye just thinking about it. I find my hands itching to come and visit what I’m writing, and add, and imagine. I’m having so much fun.

I’m also playing tennis with Mr.Good. I love having my body back, even though I’m a nursing mom it doesn’t suck the life out of me, like being pregnant did. I can also run up the stairs, and tie my shoes, and do laundry without becoming breathless. I am truly a happy person right now.

I envy the yoga Jenny is doing, and one of these Saturdays I will go back to my Yoga Garden, and my instructor, Sara, will ask “Eve, how are you feeling today?” and I will answer shyly “Fine.” and then she will ask “And what would you like to work on?” and I will answer “please…all I want is this saggy skin around my mid section to go away?” And she will then proceed to throw an intense work out at me and I will be all the happier for it.

I was talking to another kindred spirit today about our buckets. Sometimes as moms we let our buckets run dry, we take care of everyone else and forget about ourselves.  I think I finally learned after my third baby that it wasn’t healthy for my family or I to let myself go.

I once took a class where the teacher was talking about balance. We have three parts of ourselves that need to be nourished…our physical, spiritual, and emotional selves all need attention. I’ve noticed at times I need to pay more attention to one then the other, but if I totally neglect any part, I’m not as happy. I’ve been trying to balance those three lately, and even with a new child around I’ve found a certain peace.

Except when it’s time to make dinner. All the zen in the world cannot stop that time of day from becoming tumultuous.

Have you ever had a dream about your kids or a loved one that is SO terrifying and realistic that you wake up and have to go and hold them tight, and remind yourself that it wasn’t real,

IT WASN’T REAL. But it sure felt real.

And I couldn’t help but hold them more often today, and I found a little more time for them, and a little more patience.

And then I found myself wishing I could hide them away in the mountains on acres of land, until they were fully grown and able to fend for themselves.

Then…

and Ten years later…

I noticed my last post was awhile ago. I’ve decided when I’m too tired for words I can always post a picture, because isn’t a picture worth at least a thousand words? Is that what “they” say? I’ve decided I’ll go along with “them” and buy myself some verbage.

I love my grams. My sister Sunshine is on the left, Mom on the right. Does anyone have a Grandma like mine? She’s a witty one. I love it when she let’s a “swear word” slip…like the other day she called someone a whore. It just sounds funnier out of her mouth.
My grandma had her own column in the local newspaper, for years. She taught English and French, and directed all the town plays.
I want to be just like my Grandma.

Not only is she funny, and witty and brilliant, she’s extremely spiritual, but she doesn’t put it on me. She doesn’t lecture, she just lives by example. My Grandma.

I don’t know why but growing up I always felt like if I became this totally religious, spiritually driven person I might become a zombie…boring…uninteresting…sheep-like.  Grandma is definitely not any of those things. 

Grandma wants me to keep having babies. She loves her some babies. I tell her “Grandma! Haven’t I contributed my share yet? Why is this all on me? I have 5 other siblings that need to be nagged.”

I was looking through some of my old things. I saved letters from my Grammy. She and I were pen-pals. I think maybe I should start it up again with her…even though she only lives a mile away now. It was always fun to get letters from her, she always imparted wisdom to me in her matter-of-fact way.

There, you see what a simple picture inspires?