gaga, enoughness, and being a rock star

Kymberli from I'm a smart one (she's worth reading no matter what!)- had a recent entry that my newly up and working internet allowed me to stumble across just now. With her permission, I wanted to include some of it here-- yes, it is about Lady Gaga, and it is TOTALLY WORTH READING.

Last weekend I sat down to watch HBO's premiere of Gaga's Monster Ball Tour,intending to only watch the first ten or so minutes, just long enough to self-righteously slap myself on the back for proving, once again, that I am sooo not a follower. But within the first five minutes, I found myself transfixed by the sight of her crying, her emotions just as bare as her naked, pre-Maybellined face. She was backstage preparing for the show -- the sold-out crowd at Madison Square Gardens already beginning to scream for her -- and she unexpectedly erupted into tears when someone asked how she felt about that night's upcoming performance. I expected some Miss-America-just-got-crowned type of crap, but what came out was anything but. She explained that sometimes she still feels like the loser, off-beat girl in high school, the one who no one understood and whose personality was so oddly shaped that it didn't fit into any typical niche, thereby making her the brunt of relentless teasing. Now that she's who she is, she fears that she'll be a disappointment, that she'll let everyone down for not being good enough. In blistering vulnerability, she explained about how she still feels like she's fighting against years of trying to prove that she's bigger than people's misunderstanding.

So there I found myself, feeling like an ass for being one of Them, and I watched the entire concert. I latched onto every lyric, was dazzled by the dance and the screaming and the story, and reflected the entire time on how if she, whose greatness and relevance is validated every day by record-breaking and fans and awards, can still somehow find moments of feeling less and unworthy of who she is, then I cannot feel wrong for sometimes feeling judged and unworthy and unproven. We all have our moments, whether short or long in duration, where we feel lost, broken, destroyed, or sometimes all three at once. "...I have to pick my shit up and tell myself I'm a rock star...," she said.

501

500 posts, holy moly. This is my 501st.
Remember 501s? You'd buy em big, wash them a bazillion times and they'd fit better than anything. It is hard to imagine being so patient now, even if the outcome was known to be good. Everything now feels so immediate.

My internet at home has been mostly down,
and me, yeah, I guess me too.

House on the market, now under contract, all within a week or so. Now I pray to the various gods (god of pestilence, god of deck rot, god of air radon...) then, if all goes well, bank negotiations since this is a short sale.

I am spinning, so sad, hoping to be relieved but not at all relieved yet. In some ways it would be hugely premature to be relieved although without this offer, nothing else can happen. But until the banks agree, and I know what debt I will be handling, everything is unknown.

So, in great news, Joannah had her beautiful miracle baby, Michaela. I cannot link from this computer but she is at Beauty for Ashes.

Sweet Linda from bad plumbing gave me an award I will post soon. She just had a canceled cycle so that sucks rocks.


Della is magnificent. She is doing crazy things while nursing at night, a new and hopefully brief phase of acrobatics that lasts an hour or more each time. Crikey. I am tired. So is she! This morning before I left? Peaceful baby nursing, old school, lovely.

She is eating real food now along with breast milk. No I am not making my own, I am lucky to be dressed most days, and clean. I also do not have reliable sources of the organic produce I would want to use for such an undertaking, so... for now anyway, jars and squeezy tubes. I'll get back to you on favorites.

I need to go, just did not want to stretch this silence further.
Thanks for checking in.

6 months old

Photo by my momma, tandem gardening!

photo by TammyLove: Della showing some awesome new sitting skills

Dear Della,

it's been 6 months and three days since you emerged and I got to touch your sweet face for the first time. I cannot believe that so much time has passed, how much you've grown, how big you're getting, and how the You that is Della has truly been there since the beginning. You are curious and intent. Your brow furrows in concentration. You also can raise just one eyebrow at a time and flip your tongue over. You love movement, impatiently ready to move on after I sit you down. You make it clear when we've chosen incorrectly or when you're done. You are not a "sit with" baby, or a put down and be baby. I no longer harbor any fantasies about work I can do while you play or sleep. You can play alone, sometimes for long stretches of time, but we never know when those will be... but then there are other things to do or see or put in your mouth. You sleep alone sometimes, but you sleep best on us. Right now, I am typing this love note with one hand while you sleep across me, delicious warm weight, so long now your legs are curled against my side, your face against my skin.

This month has brought the sudden dramatic emergence of two teeth, you're now sitting, scooting backwards, show a true love of the cat. You eat bananas and LOVE them, pulling my fingers toward your mouth.

You are insanely beautiful, laugh at your dad with true deserved delight, and have eyelashes that are ridiculously long.

To say I love you is so inadequate it is silly. I am humbled by my own perpetual unknowing, my needing to trust myself and us that we'll figure it out.

You are teaching me so much about my own heart.

the M word, two teeth, and quitting my day job

My ass has been well and truly kicked by two bottom teeth that decided to arrive without preamble starting thursday night.

We were slow on the uptake, took a return to inconsolable crying as a return of belly issues when, really? white pointy tetons breaking through non stretchy skin in some sort of rapid fire fast forward painful push. Poor sweet kid. One thursday to saturday, the second friday through today so far. Not sure where we are in this moment.

But

Tylenol, orajel... lots and lots of bewildered tears.

Hard days (and nights) I admit, and we're all a bit worse for wear.

This weekend I visited my sister, and my dad was visiting from Denver, and it was a wonderful fabulous love fest. Driving away was horrible. Dad got to meet Della in real life (we've skyped) and I am not sure anything could be cooler than that. I will have photos but not today. Soon.

The past two weeks I've spent every tiny scrap of time and energy I had making the house ready...packing things up and taking them to the basement. Friday "they" came and took photos of the house and put up a sign. Gosh darn. That's all I'll say about that.

And

other big (immense, colossal, life changing and please-god-life-improving) news: I looked deeply into my heart, put on my big girl pants, gathered my courage and all of the frayed edges of my self esteem and gave notice at work. My last day will be the end of June. I'll work three days a week until then starting this week. I will be writing more about this I am sure.

Today is Mother's day, holy shit. I hardly know what to say about that either. Except, even hip deep in this particular pile of poop, I could not be luckier than to have Doug and Della in my life. And, believe me, I know it with each grateful breath. I am still stunned at my luck. I would not trade any decision I have ever made that would have deviated me from the path to this moment: Doug singing to Della, christmas lights around the window, the sky darkening slowly but still bright enough to see up through the skylight at the webwork of inky branches holding clusters of buds like hopes and wishes.