better late than never

remember me? smallish? big smile? reddish? overwhelmed?

Yeah, that would be me.

So-- I've been consumed by trying to find options to my current financial/housing crisis. I've talked with 5-6 banks, 2 financial advisors and a lawyer, two realtors... and

finally

I think I have a direction, however uncomfortable.

I have another meeting next week before deciding but it feels like progress.

In the meantime, remember the ice dam damage? A swarm of folks have been in the house this week, walls back up, mudded and taped, sanded, primed, painted.... dust everywhere (and I do mean everywhere on every little thing)-- almost done but intense in this small space. Yesterday I escaped from it and went to see my mom. They'll be done monday. Praise the gods.

I think it is *ironic* that the house is coming apart, my shit is piled everywhere, it is completely undone, trashed, and being repaired.... no, not ironic, symbolic.

It has been easier to imagine leaving when it was in pieces. And now, as it comes back into some semblance of order, if I keep the personal stuff to a minimum, I may be able to maintain some fantasy that I am just staying here not living here and that may help me disengage a little. I am VERY enmeshed in place, as you can imagine having read me here for any time at all.

Being here, in this house, was a life affirming brave act when I bought it. It was me, saying I was worth having a life that was my own for perhaps the first time in my adult life. I've been playing in the garden for 5 years, planting, moving, creating a wildness of perennials that heap over the sides and draw butterflies and hummingbirds and my joyful heart. I used to come home and pat the side of the house as I entered, thanking it for housing me and loving it That much.

Letting it go is hard. hard hard hard. But it also will allow me to move forward.

Erin, remember the whole trapeze thing?

yeah, watch me, letting go. Maybe not this swing, maybe not even the next one. But it is coming and necessary even if I am not ready.

Della is a wonder- coming up on 5 months old now, can you believe it?

She is bigger every day, a big smile, a big laugh, a wonderful big personality. She delights me to my core. Please universe help me so I can keep present please please please I do not want to miss one second of this, especially when I am so lucky to be *right here*.

Photos soon, I promise.

playing by ear

Della got my ick and this week was a week of snot and chest coughs, a trip to the doc (she's fine) and disrupted sleep. It has also been a week of her talking talking talking (LOVELY), babble that sounds like language, loudly! with lots of tongue. She is adorable beyond words, beyond the snot, and I am completely smitten.

I am still snotty and coughing, and the headaches, oh my. So apparently, this is a full 2 week bug and I now officially invite it to leave, thankyouverymuch. Don't let the door hit you, etc etc.

I've been quite quiet here and on the internet in general lately, and I am so sorry to not be out and about and reading and commenting. I am in the midst of a rather concerted push for alternatives for work stuff and house stuff, and when I am free-ish (like now) I generally spend it frantically researching, calling, writing, and feeling a wide range of things from despair to something more like resignation.

I'm pooped, people.

So--on a happy note creatively speaking, I sold two paintings (thank you loved ones!) and got some cards printed but not yet posted, and some prints made but they arrived oddly sized so I will crop them and post them soon I hope. They are not what I wanted so they'll be discounted. I look forward to more painting in my future, but that will need to wait until the little one is in a backpack. Right now she touches all I touch, amazing. I actually can't wait to paint with her.

We still have snow almost everywhere, and some quite deep. The garden is being uncovered slowly, and seed heads are emerging, and I am imagining that soon there will be greening. We walked today, and it was colder than I expected, and I felt myself holding myself tightly. I am looking forward to walks where my body just moves, and I am unaware of it.

I keep dreaming I am back in school, and I guess I am.

A year ago, I went to an amazing workshop in NYC led by the incomparable Jen Lee, and met a wonderful woman, Helen, who plays piano and teaches among many other fiercely and fabulously creative endeavors. (Please go see her site, she is hosting a getaway in the Moors in August). She and I had a wonderful visit as part of the workshop, and, in talking, it came about that she had been classically trained as a pianist, but did not know how to play by ear. Then she discovered an online class, and indeed DID learn to play by ear, and it freed her to express her own music-- and now she teaches other people to do the same. Well, I cried, actually. I had not known how attached I was to the idea that I could never be musical because I cannot play an instrument, cannot read music, cannot carry a tune, and am non-rhythmic. But, there she was saying it was possible. Knowing it was possible. And I felt my heart crack open against all that I thought that I knew.

Fast forward to now: Here I am, improvising. A life so tightly held, planned to avoid possible losses and other out-of-control-nesses, carefully tended, broken open, knocked askew, not what I expected, house stuff and work stuff, wondrous baby stuff and Doug stuff, my creative self yearning, my reality and pragmatic selves barking orders and waving frantically, and me?

IMPROVISING

so I lay in bed last night and told Doug, when I thought I would learn to play by ear, I guess I just did not expect it to be EVERYTHING.

IF, food issues and other vices. Oh, and snot.

Thanks so much for the comments!

I wonder about IF, body image, and food addiction/issues.... It seems to be more common than not, doesn't it?

I certainly see it in myself, but I also did before IF too- I've always been an emotional eater, a carbmonger, a major binger, (although not a purger). I would binge and then have massive regret. Heck I still do (clearly) once I find an allowed treat. I binge. I scarf. I tazmaniandevil my way through an entire bag. All at once. And want more.

Since I've been off of gluten and dairy, most of the objects of my desire have been relegated to the category of dangerous (I am not missing colitis one bit)-- but I dream of pizza, croissants, bread... um bread... toasted cheese sandwiches, you get the point I am sure.

Alfredo sauce.

But I digress.

The point is, if I *could* binge without immediate fallout I would. Even though I know I shouldn't. I have no doubt it was odd timing, odd luck in some way that colitis forbade me to eat the stuff I love the most. Since this happened only a year into IF treatments, I did not create new associations with IF and food specifically except to be bummed about not being able to eat the things I KNEW would make me feel better, full, whole... whatever.

I used to use hiking as my reward. Not to be virtuous but because it worked for me- truly. Not any workout would do. You'll never catch me doing a crunch. I hate exercise exercise. But I love my hike.

I wonder if I am now making up for my not being able to eat what I want with bizarre shopping weirdness-- trying to make up for something using a different yet no less addictive or damaging tool.

Read this article in a 2009 O magazine that included the following concise insight: if you are trying to acquire More perhaps you are feeling Lessthan. And that pretty much stopped me dead in my tracks. I realized in that moment that I am trying to fill a void (uncertainty, unsettledness) with... what, the magic elixir that will help me create more milk? The optimal teething ring? The book that will answer all of my questions, change my life for the better, and set me on the immediate path for lifelong happiness, sufficient wealth, and the best possible relationship with my amazing family?

Magical thinking takes the form of more than cupcakes.

***

Wild change in topic-- wild turkeys in my yard today, they seem GIANT and I always imagine them as little dinosaurs. Even when I am not feverish.

So this flu thingy that laid me low is truly lousy. I hope all of you avoid it. I am imagining a ball of protective golden light around Della and Doug, hoping hoping that through some miracle, they do not get this. It really sucks.

5

So, some days it is all about the cookies.

Today, the bakery had just 5.

These are my congratulations you made it cookies that I have (apparently) become addicted to as a reward for making it through work.

PathetiKate. I know. What are they? French macaroons. Almondy yumminess. Two bites each, perfection, naughtiness.

Just 5, I say, sadly, just 5.

Does anyone out there do this too? Set up a reward system to help make it through tough or daunting or just irritating times? Do you have any wholesome or embarrassing "rewards" you'd care to share? Feel free to be anonymous on this one. I'm curious if I am the only one.

on carriages and pumpkins

I am at home today, all razor throat and snottiness day 3. Not pretty. I do not fold easily, and damn, I give, it wins.

I was up a lot last night thinking, THINKING thinking thinking.

Thinking about how, let's call it interesting, shall we? how interesting it is to be on the downhill slope from a season of nearly unconscious enoughness.

When I first bought the house, I was making good enough money to make up for whatever misgivings I might have had about my job, career, etc. I was able to do things- fly to see my dad in Denver, fix the car, fill the oil tank. Bigger projects took some planning and foresight, some accumulation, but I could do them. I'd been in big debt before, and had dug out, twice in fact. One was immense stupidity debt that I brought on myself trying valiantly and futilely to buy someone's happiness. Actually, now that I think about it, the second wave was the same as the first (some lessons are learned harder than others). But my point is that I had enough money to not be worried about in-the-moment money. I was also only in debt with the house, which, I hoped, would become my main investment. And that is where my money was going.

OK first, YES I do realize how lucky I was! (and am!)-- at the time, single, childless, good paycheck... in some ways very lucky. In others, not as much.

Enter reality, stage left.

So, in real life, we are now well and truly screwed, immense fertility debt taken on (would not change it) since I did not have time to accumulate in those days of wine (whine, is more like it) and roses (thorns aplenty), and house underwater (literally, wet basement today, and figuratively, as it is now worth less than we owe), and job dwindling....savings finite and small, clock ticking.

I am in the pumpkin phase of this. Don't get me wrong, I like pumpkins, love them actually. But getting back onto the panicked-about-money rollercoaster sucks ass. I'm just sayin'. Truth be told, today there is nothing new, no trigger event, no anniversary, just the ongoing and fast-growing realization that no matter what magical thinking I apply, reality is winning.

So universe, I hear you. I cannot act as if it is not happening. But I also know that panic is not going to help solve the problem.

Erin, your thoughtful link to the quote about the trapeze was right on target- there is a moment between, when letting go, when you have to *trust* that there will be something. But when you are in between, really, all you can be is in between. Scary.

Lovely commenter in Maine, thank you! Thank you for the link to the family center in Portland. Looks like I might just be in the neighborhood this summer and it is great to have such a wonderful recommendation.

All in all, Mr. Pumpkin (this one feels male), I'm just trying to gather my thoughts. This blog is often the place I think of to record and sift and rant. So for now? I declare this episode of miscellaneous katebabble complete.

messages from the universe

So I get a few newsletters and over the past few weeks some messages have been coming, that are also showing up in books I am reading, and things I am hearing both from the inside and outside... I keep hoping to write them here but time does not support that idea, so I decided to try to capture them as they come in.

So today

this one came in my daily my Note from the Universe (edited by me..)

"... boy, Kate, aren't they gonna be shocked when they realize that all along they were, in fact, the person they had always dreamed of becoming?..."

www.TUT.com

Hm, I say. Hm.