5 years (plus 6 days) ago I met this girl for the first time and my heart exploded. She completed out family perfectly.
Randomness
Chickens 1, Me 0
So, on Saturday we had to say good-by to our two roosters (Jellybean and Speedy). These two roosters were the chicks that were hatched in Noah’s class. So, to say the least, he was sad that both of his turned out to be roosters. But hey–we can drive 90 minutes out of town to go and visit (yeah, we aren’t going to do that).
I promised Noah that we would get two new pullets to replace the roosters. A weak parenting moment. But to be honest, I didn’t really want only 2 chickens and had already decided that 4 was a great number. So, I called a feed store and they had lots of pullets about the same age as the two remaining chickens. Yesterday we trekked out to get Noah some chickens. And because he is an emotional 7-year-old who believes the world often revolves around him, he insisted on having the same breed of chickens. I had to stifle my laugh as I told him that we would have to pick from what they had available.
Well, they did have a couple barred rocks and we needed one of those to be Speedy 2. They didn’t have a Jellybean, but Noah spotted an all white chicken that would work just fine. I couldn’t have been happier that the world yet again seemed to bow at the feet of my little man. So, we put our chickens in the big cat carried and went home.
So I will admit, I am new to chicken keeping and even though I did research and knew we should keep them separate until they got to know each other, I was motivated by how everything just worked out for Noah and so I through knowledge to the wind and asked the universe to make it all okay.
Well, screw the universe. It wasn’t 3 minutes before they were fighting and our poor new Jellybean was getting stood on. So, I tried to separate them (picture me crawling into the 2 foot high crawl space under the coop (I was literally crawling through crap). Jellybean decided she’d had enough of this and leap up and out of the run. The dog was ready to chase–but Bill got her inside as the chicken hid in the thick weeds and Noah screamed as though he was watching her be mauled by a bear.
She then ran into the garage–which is really just another word for death-trap junk pile for a 10-week-old chick who is literally scared out of her little pea-sized mind.
Finally we got her out and did what I should have done all along–separated the chickens. Then we covered the run (and stabbed ourselves several times with the hardware cloth) in the sweltering 95+ degree heat. Fun times.
I am putting the universe on notice.
Spirit
I sit in the car and watch her on the playground. She stands up and all of a sudden I see a 16-year-old teen standing on the stage performing. So full of confidence and fearlessness.
There is something inherently “old” about her red and white stripped t-shirt.
If only time could stop.
She is a force to be reckoned with and as much as we but heads–we laugh together.
Her laugh is striking.
I look at her and wonder what role I have played. I wonder what fights lie ahead of us. Was I ever that confident?
Was I ever that fearless?
Caps, Gowns, and Goldfish
Is it just me, or is a “formal” graduation from preschool with caps and gown a bit over the top? Do 4 and 5-year-olds really need to walk across the stage as pomp and circumstance plays and they are handed their diploma.
As a parent, I am so happy my kids school doesn’t have any graduation until 8th grade. I get the want/need/desire to celebrate a transition to a new school, but isn’t there a better way?
Couldn’t the kids do a final project presentation to their families illustrating what they had learned?
As an educator, I think celebrations are important. But I also think they should be reserved for those seminal moments and I’m sorry to say I don’t think that finishing preschool is seminal.
I wish we focused more on what the kids learned and experienced then simply celebrating that they finished.
It just reinforces that too often our schools focus on the wrong thing–the result as opposed to the process.
Reclaimed
I have been struggling with this space. I find myself wanting to share less about my kids as they are getting older and many of what I could share could later be too personal. That and I hate to say–but my kids are pretty boring. I mean they are awesome and cute, but I can’t just write over and over about my struggles with my daughter who is so stubborn that she reminds me of me. I am trying to cherish the moments with my family and kids. I know it’s fleeting (Noah will be 7 in less than 2 weeks–OMG). But I don’t need to write about them. That isn’t cathartic for me anymore. It isn’t where I am in my own personal journey. I started blogging during my advanced struggles with infertility and our adoption journey. This space has always been for me.
I lost track of that somewhere along the way. My writing suffered for it, as have I. I need to reclaim this space and use it for me. I need to own it and not worry about anything else.
To be able to reclaim this space I have to define what this space is to me. It’s mine and it’s about me and my own struggles as a woman, wife, and mother. It’s about embracing (and facing) my own imperfection.
So, as this space is a place for me to grow, explore and log, that is what I am going to do. I have never been shy about my struggles with weight and health. I have a defeatist attitude about losing weight and being healthy. I do a lot of self-sabotage. I will admit I am afraid of failing (probably why I haven’t put the effort into my dissertation that I need to). I have tried to lose weight and get healthy. And I have had moments of success–I say moments because it doesn’t last long. I get complacent and eat ice cream and then a cookie, and then pizza, and then more ice cream. It’s a vicious cycle and the more crap I eat the more crap I crave.
Part of my battle is learning to manage my PCOS. I know what I need to do, I just need to do it. I have to stop making excuses about being too busy or too tired and make sure that I am eating what my body needs. Having PCOS affects everything and I need to know that just eating less and moving more isn’t going to be a long term solution for me and it won’t help alleviate the symptoms of PCOS and that is something that needs to happen.
I think part of my struggle is that I don’t want to have to explain myself to everyone. Why aren’t you having wine? Why aren’t you having this or that? I don’t want it to be an issue. I don’t want to have to listen to what worked for someone else (who isn’t a 40ish woman with PCOS). I just don’t. My journey is different than yours and theirs. It is my own journey that I have to take in my own way. It has to be okay for me to have a separate meal. It has to be okay for me to say no I don’t eat that. I need to be okay with that. Sometimes I am not.
I want to run a 5k. I am putting it out there. I have said it before only half meaning it. But I do really mean it. I have to prove to myself that I can do it. I have to set the goal, do the training and do it. It isn’t an option and I am going to do it this year on Father’s Day.
This space is going to become me documenting my journey to health. My acceptance of my imperfection. Which happens a lot–like getting mad at Zoë this morning for taking 15 minutes to get socks and shoes one.
Today is a new day and I am not going to get mad at myself for eating some swedish fish and 1/2 a cookie yesterday. Today is a new day and I’m going to make the right choice. This morning I did some yoga and a core workout. It was a small step (about 20 minutes total) but it is more than I have done in months.
It’s a journey and I am so happy to have this space to document the victories, bumps, and struggles.
Embracing Imperfection 