#Reverb11 Prompt: Day 10- Beauty

Beauty

Describe a moment of beauty that you witnessed this year.

Author: @amanda_hirsch

Yesterday my mom remarked that she’s never thought of me as an only-child because I have so many “sisters”.  She rattled off a list of names from my childhood, conjuring up memories of sleepovers, cheerleading, gymnastics, bike riding and long jogs together.  My sisters and I have passionately laughed, cried, gossiped, fought, and loved one another for over 25 years.  

Vanessa even drove me to the hospital and photographed the birth of my first child.  We roomed together all through college, and I was her matron of honor when she married her high-school sweetheart.  She has been among my oldest and truest friends for as long as I can remember.

Though I have many girlfriends I love to bits, there are three I shared particularly poignant moments of beauty with last summer.  In their presence, I can completely relax, knowing I’ll never be judged or written off.  

Maureen and I were neighbors and walked to school together.  She has a big family of origin, with four siblings, including a twin brother.   When we were young, I enjoyed the bustle of her busy house, which was different from mine in many ways.  On summer nights, she and I would often rock on her porch swing, dreaming of the future, the families we hoped to someday create.

While I was visiting Ohio last summer, Vanessa and her family drove up from their home in North Carolina.  Our daughters share the same name, and it was beautiful watching them play!  As they scaled steps on the riverfront, I watched nervously, hoping they wouldn’t fall.  Then they began to jump, arms outstretched, confident and fully aware of their small bodies.  I caught a glimmer of the energetic girls Vanessa and I once were.  Our carefree children were full of trust and at ease with one another.  One word came to mind: Grace.

That same week Maureen and I brought our kids for ice-cream in our parents’ neighborhood.  When we were teens, we’d walk the same path on hot nights.  The trip to Dairy Queen became a ritual for us; it was special including our kids and sharing stories about our history.  Both of us were touched watching our sons hold hands as we walked.  Maureen’s boisterous three year old looked up to my “big boy”, and my son instinctively felt protective of him.  They are both chatterboxes and it was hilarious listening to them!  Their sense of wonder and curiosity, as they moved along together, made me smile.

My kids and I were fortunate to also be invited to a very special 18th birthday celebration while we were in town.  It was a family party, and I was pleased that my sister Jodie asked us to come.  I remember helping to plan her baby shower when we were 18.  It was a shock realizing her son is the same age we were back then!  Jodie was the first to become a mother in my circle of friends, and I have always admired her strength and commitment.  Her son has become a wonderful young man and is off to college now.  I’m so proud of them for their achievements.

Witnessing these moments of connection were the most beautiful gifts of 2011.  What were yours?

I’d like to close with a blessing from John O’Donohue’s book Beauty: The Invisible Embrace.

A Beauty Blessing

As stillness in stone to silence is wed

May your heart be somewhere a God might dwell.

As a river flows in ideal sequence

May your soul discover time is presence.

As the moon absolves the dark of distance

May thought-light console your mind with brightness.

As the breath of light awakens colour

May the dawn anoint your eyes with wonder.

As spring rain softens the earth with surprise

May your winter places be kissed by light.

As the ocean dreams to the joy of dance

May the grace of change bring you elegance.

As clay anchors a tree in light and wind

May your outer life grow from peace within.

As twilight fills night with bright horizons

May Beauty await you at home beyond.

Big hugs,

Robin

#Reverb11 Prompt: Day 8- Safe

Safe

Where did you feel safest this year? Describe the person, place or thing that made you feel safe in 2011.

I risk sounding childish admitting that I felt safest in bed, at my mother’s house in America last summer.  

I love everything about her old Victorian home and have fond memories of living there.  The creaky pine floors, stained glass windows, and marble fireplaces create an old world charm.  Even though it needs constant repairs, there’s something solid about the house.  It continues to withstand age.  It has outlasted my favorite Oak tree, which was struck by lightening and succumbed to disease a few years ago.  

Being home-away-from-home for a month’s respite was wonderful, and I specifically felt safe in bed.  To me, there is no better place!  In my Irish home, I have a good mattress, fluffy pillows, 100% cotton sheets, a goose-down duvet (despite my allergies), and a gorgeous handmade , colorful Indian quilt, which I splurged on at Pottery Barn (though it isn’t the one pictured).  My mom, however, isn’t into such extravagance.

What, then,  was so special about the bed at her house, you ask?  

I slept in the room beside her, while we wandered through dreamscapes alone, but still together...

I was safe.

* Today's prompt was taken from Meredith's Daily Angst.  She and Sarah Rosemary are a fantastic Reverb11 duo!

Through The Looking Glass

Through The Looking Glass, a photo by Chaz Folkes on Flickr.

Thanksgiving is a tradition my family has continued to observe, even though it isn’t a holiday in Ireland. Usually I allow my children to stay home from school. Often I entertain friends, but sometimes we are invited to celebrate with other American expats in their homes. We eat turkey with all the trimmings, drink wine, sit around the table deep in conversation, while the children play games. One might almost forget that we are no longer in America, except for the curious lack of football on TV. Plus most of our neighbors are at work.

For the first time, I nearly let the holiday go unmarked this year. My house flooded two weeks ago. Our central heating has been shut off as a result of the leak. It’s unclear if we will have the central heating restored any time soon, or if I will have to continue lighting all three fireplaces every day this winter. I’ve had a cough for several weeks that won’t clear. Finances are tight. The stress of judicial separation proceedings is taking its toll. I’m tired.

When my teenager arranged to visit me on Thanksgiving, I decided to make the effort after all. He lives with his dad, and I miss him. I wanted to have all of my children around the table, the way it used to be. I smiled as I bought enough food to feed a small homeless shelter. In my mind, it would be perfect: the table set beautifully, delicious food, happy children, pleasant conversation, and enough time to watch a movie and cuddle together on the couch, completely relaxed. I could clearly envision it all!

At first everything seemed to be going as planned, but somewhere along the way I ran out of time. There were too many dishes to cook and not enough helping hands. I couldn’t prepare the meal and play with the kids at the same time. For a while, they joined me peeling potatoes before opting to watch TV instead. The phone rang. Then it rang again...

We all took turns talking to the American grandmas, and overwhelm crept in. Pangs of homesickness became wide gulfs. My American boyfriend’s texts made me laugh, then want to cry. The distance between those I love abroad and myself became even greater. Suddenly I wanted to lie down, but the pecan pie still needed to go in the oven, and gravy needed stirring.

Slowly, slowly everything unraveled. My perfect scene retreated to an imaginary place. When my son said it was time to go back to his dad’s, I cursed the clock and my inability to work miracles. The food wasn’t ready yet, and I was unwilling to let him- or my holiday- slip away so quickly. When I pointed out the trouble I’d gone to, my teenager replied, “I didn’t ask for a big dinner.” How would you have reacted?

Though I couldn’t see it in that moment, I now realize my son had a point. Why do we put ourselves under so much pressure during the holidays? Whose needs are we serving?

I realize I’m not supposed to share my not-so-happy-Thanksgiving story. These are the moments we’re encouraged to keep private, to hide away, as if such memories are a mark of failure. “Image is everything” is one of my (ex) mother-in-law’s favorite quotes. She’s not alone in this sentiment.

I am as adept at social media as anyone. I’ve studied the way successful people present themselves on twitter, facebook, and the blogosphere. I admire and am influenced by all of the inspirational quotes, articles, and tweets I read every day. I welcome my place in the pool of positive thinking, but at times wonder if I’m the only one struggling.

Last night I read an interesting article in the December 2011 issue of Psychologies Magazine, which focused on the benefits of envy. The author, Laurel Ives, shared some interesting insights. Other people’s lives are flaunted in our faces like never before. Yet we are only witnessing the highlights, she pointed out. You can bet I didn’t take photos to share on the web of my crestfallen face when my Thanksgiving dreams dissolved into tears!

There is a social psychological concept called the looking-glass self. C.H. Cooley explains it as such, "I am not what I think I am and I am not what you think I am; I am what I think that you think I am."

Perhaps this is why I’m feeling like an impostor in my own skin lately? Each day I accrue new followers on twitter, mostly driven, high-octane people ready to share their tips on how to become more successful or spiritually evolved. I suspect they’re expecting me to do the same. Part of me likes being lumped in with this dynamic group, and I just want to blend in. The rest of me feels like someone has made a mistake; don’t I belong in a group for worn out single moms scraping by? The only place I hold the position of CEO is in my kitchen!

While it’s normal to be influenced by society and other people’s projections, I don’t want to live my life seeking approval. Why should anyone try to fulfill an idea of what they think others think they are? Honesty seems a far superior path.

Neither do I want to compound my discomfort by comparing my disappointing Thanksgiving to someone Else's glorious one. I’d rather accept that my expectations weren’t met- and perhaps even contributed to the holiday chaos- and move on. Instead of viewing Thanksgiving in terms of what it could or should have been, I can remember that it was just a day, as imperfect as any other. It came to an end, just as today will.

I’m grateful that tomorrow always comes, and if I’m lucky, I’ll be given another chance. My hope is that I will meet tomorrow with more grace than I found possible yesterday.

Big hugs,
Robin

Diary of a Frazzled Mom

fraz·zle

noun /ˈfrazəl/  The state of being completely exhausted or worn out - I'm tired, worn to a frazzle verb /ˈfrazəl/  frazzled, past participle; frazzled, past tense; frazzles, 3rd person singular present; frazzling, present participle Cause to feel completely exhausted; wear out - a frazzled parent Fray - change the skirt if it gets frazzled - it's enough to frazzle the nerves Saturday To Do:  Clean kids’ bedrooms. Guests arrive in 4 days.  Procrastinate no more!! Scrub dreaded stove top, including steel and cast iron.  Whose idea was it to switch from electric to gas anyway? Dear Diary,  Another day seemed to slip away.  The bedrooms never got cleaned, but I did manage a blog post.  Once the creative fire is fed, everything else will fall into place, right?  Tomorrow is another day.

Sunday

To do:

1.  Tackle yesterday’s chores.
2.  Try not to email Hunky BF in America 10 times today. Limit texts too.  Timeboxing is an essential skill for all progressive single mothers… even where long distance relationships are concerned.
3. Stop pining for said boyfriend and act my age.  Though it’s true that love makes the world go around, somebody needs to clean these bathrooms fast!

Dear Diary,

Can you believe I actually sent Hunky BF an email entitled ‘Quick note from a frazzled mom’ today?  I was at my wits end, and felt so low after a meltdown when Middle Child wouldn’t take his timeout this morning.  BF sent back wise advice, which I took, and everything is fine again.  I miss him more than ever and have decided timeboxing is not for this bird!

Good news: Current facebook status reads,

“Spent the day cooking comforting spag bol with fresh tomatoes etc. and finally cleaned the kids' rooms. Reward: I can see the floors again, big glass of el vino, blazing fire, hot bath, and next up a rom-com. C.O.Z.Y.”

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Unfortunately the movie was boring and I fell asleep watching it.  

Monday

To Do:

1. CLEAN FRIDGE
2. That’s all… and good luck!

Dear Diary,

My fridge is now clear of all relish, mustard, and chutney which expired in 2009.  Clearly we need to use our condiments more often!  Rotting vegetables and mouldy hummus are no longer an offense either.  I’ve also mopped up pools of water, which will  quickly reappear if I don’t defrost the freezer soon.  What’s that saying?  Something about Moses… or Rome … Can’t finish everything in one day!

Tuesday

To Do:

1. Wash all sheets and dress the beds for our guests.
2. Clean both bathrooms. 
3. Launder towels.
4. Shop for groceries.  Remember to defrost homemade chicken stock for kick-ass mushroom risotto to impress and comfort foreign visitors on their first night here.
5. Stock up on wine for them too (and try not to drink it before they arrive).

Dear Diary,

I only managed to tackle #s 3,4,& 5.  A legal letter came in the post which threw me for another loop.  I spent the rest of the day phoning lawyers and writing responses.  My guests arrive tomorrow, but they’ll have to accept the situation for what it is: a mess.

Wednesday

To Do:

1. HIDE STUFF!  They’ll be here in a few hours.  Cram boxes with stray puzzle pieces, children’s drawings, miscellaneous toys, etc. into the recycling cupboard.  ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ is today’s philosophy.
2. Make dirt disappear!  Last ditch effort to scrub mouldy tiles in back bathroom, clear cobwebs, and hope no one looks up at the peeling paint. Unclog shower drain; all that hair is gross… Might need some caustic soda too.
3. Vacuum! The whole house!!
4. First, locate… then light aroma lamp, candles, incense, etc. to create atmosphere of calm tranquillity! 
5. Remember to change out of PJs and brush teeth. Wipe sweat from brow and spray copious amounts of Chanel Mademoiselle before meeting foreigners for lunch downtown.
6. Mental note: due for a blog post today.  It’s Wishful Wednesday.  What do I really want this week?  Fashionable rubber kitchen gloves would be perfect.  If I can feel sexy while I scrub, that’s at least something.  And the matching apron is super chic! 

*Discovered a blog & shop which sells these beauties, called Lady Grace.  Wish I had some of that too!

Dear Diary, 

My three guests arrived from America and Denmark safely.  After a frantic morning, I was satisfied with my home at last.  We collected my well groomed children from school before heading home so our visitors could rest.  All was going according to plan.  My friend’s mother even remarked that my home evokes a sense of “peace”, just what I’ve been striving for.  

I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was a moment too soon.  My son piped up, “Hey, our house is NEVER this clean!”  I feigned deafness of course. It was a little harder a few minutes later when my daughter screamed, “LOOK!” as if a spider had startled her.  She had opened the refrigerator door and was staring at its contents, visibly astonished.  As if she’d never seen a clean fridge. Humph!  

Embarrassed, I quickly closed the door and sent my darlings to their room.  Not before my son opened the recycling cabinet, by now suspicious about what I’d been doing while he was learning his maths at school.  “Hey!  Why is Ella’s piggy bank in here?”  He’d found the box of hidden crap.  I should have known they’d blow my cover.  I think I played it off well though…

Thursday

To Do:

1. Bring visitors pony trekking at their request.
2. Show them the splendour of Bantry House and have tea & scones together.
3. Cook another wholesome meal, and relax beside the wood stove after dinner.

Dear Diary,

I was afraid we’d wake our visitors, since they’re on vacation, but they were up before us.  I forgot how early Americans rise.  By the time I returned from the school run, they were dressed and ready for sightseeing.  Of course I had yet to shower, drink my coffee, and adjust to being upright.  Mornings are not exactly my thing.

Pony trekking was a disaster since the couple who run the business were out of town for the day.  I improvised, took my tourists for a wild walk in nature.  (They were keen for an outdoor activity, despite the wind and rain).  We hiked through the forest and along a river in the Mealagh Valley.  The scenery is stunning there, and everyone seemed to be invigorated afterward.  I think my friend’s mom was sincere when she said she was glad she’d experienced sloshing through an “Irish bog”…

Friday

To Do:

1. Count the spots on my face.  Where did all these pimples come from?  Suddenly my skin has broken out worse than when I was a teenager.  
2. Collapse.

Dear Diary,

My guests left for Kinsale first thing this morning.  While they drove towards new adventures, I collapsed on the couch and buried myself under blankets.  I’m not sure how long I slept.  It’s mid-day now, and I’m counting the hours until wine o’clock.  TGIF!

The beds have to be stripped, and sheets need washing once more.  But it can wait.  This frazzled- but thankfully not frumpy- mom is back to procrastinating.  As the Italians say: Que Shiraz, Shiraz… what will be, will be!

Cheers!

Robin