9 months

Della at 9 months is pure delight interspersed with moments of instantaneous unhappiness, back arched, wailing, enormous tears. Then, delight returns.
She has learned to sit and spin, sits and scissors her legs so she spins only counterclockwise I think, fast.
She crawls fast, thinks the toilet is fascinating, is babbling mamamamama and da da da da da which is wonderful. She has two talking voices, the deep babbly voice we've always known, and a new higher voice she uses sometimes that is so funny-- like she is "talking baby talk" to someone.

Della's eyebrows are in constant motion, like Grommet-- so many facial expressions per second.

Ok, unhappiness returns in this moment so I need to go, but so much more to say.

slices of sky

yesterday I coped by spending the day out doing errands.

today, rainy, errands planned that will take me until after lunch, but reality is planned too. I am here, and I need to figure out how to move in even incrementally. With my wonderfully busy and social baby, I need to work in small bits.

last night a rogue cat came visiting out on the porch thingy that leads to our door. Finn (see below in photo from old house with old-school elmo and MyMommaSally-made mustard jar toy):

well, Finn (who is still bigger than Della) went crazy with howling and yelping, and galloping window to window. I am *so aware* of not wanting to make extra noise for those whose ceiling is my floor, whose walls are my walls... good grief what a racket.

Good news: the sky here is big so dawn comes with wild abandon. I can imagine it would be great star watching if not for the light pollution of living with outdoor lights and so many lighted windows... there are woods out front, past the porch thingy, so I look out from my sofa into green. The porch thingy itself is actually quite wonderful in spite of the astroturf. No really I mean it. A place to sit with morning shade and fresh air, one story up above the parking lot so it is not the only thing I see. This does not suck, except it does.

We'll all get used to the noise, I know. the cars the traffic the doors opening the footsteps. now we all wake and listen, over and over. So much time in the woods, alone, and I am used to quiet and dark. I've gone a little daffy maybe. Good to shake things up, keep from getting too weird and eccentric.

I'll exhale soon, once i figure out the next few weeks of child care and work and creativity schedule

and move in a little more so I have space to roam

Della is helping type so I'll stop here

moved.

So there is some solace in having "moved"-- I no longer need to dread it, it already happened. I no longer need to imagine packing. I packed. I no longer need to worry about the cat. He's here and doing ok. I no longer need to worry how I'll feel or if I'll cry or how each of my "last times" will play out.

I am here in my new place. It is smelly which I find very discouraging. Old smoke maybe, musty, inside of drawer smell... it was hot and steamy today which does nothing to help with smelliness.

We're up to our necks in boxes in one room (this one where I set up my desk and a pathway, and I sit facing a window), up to our knees in boxes and piles everywhere else. With help from friends (TammyLove) and my mom, two mover guys and my love, today went very smoothly. My funky stuff looks funky here too, and things are starting to take shape through the mess.

Doug is home for the night, and leaves first thing in the morning, so I won't linger here. But I can say that in this moment, I am relieved that I am no longer anticipating the move. I may not be moved in, but I sure am moved.

hear me roar

I am an olympic caliber avoider.

I avoid like other people breathe.

I hate to confront uncomfortable anythings, and will spend months of time and oodles of energy uncomfortably trying to avoid the uncomfortable.

Then, there is a moment that comes, where "it" (the dreaded whatever) is imminent. Suddenly, I turn into something fierce and focused, I run at it, arms waving, roaring...

Today is a roar day.

A tired roar, granted. A lump in throat roar. A roar that sounds a little whimpery at the edges. But hey...

Here we are, the day before.

Home stretch (with a big ole emphasis on the stretch).

Checking in

Moving on monday (!)

feeling stressed and sad, and knee-deep (heart deep) in slogging emotional transition stuff. And August stuff. Not my highest and best. Right now it is cloudy, and suddenly soft. The flowers are all aglow in the garden. I am procrastinating here by the keyboard. Boxes to be filled stand open and ready. But I'm not. Not yet.

Here is a lovely photo of sleeping Della from yesterday. She was sound asleep on mom. And I totally get that. Right now I would like to crawl into a warm safe lap, curl up, held and safe, and sleep for a while.

20 days

Transitions are not my strong point.

It's been 20 days since my last post.

I cannot tell you how lonely I feel for this blog, and this community. I just somehow cannot quite give myself permission to log on and write with so many other things that need to be done. Even though this feeds my soul, grounds me, reminds me of me. I need to remember to choose to do it anyway.

The house short sale is moving ahead: closing in 27 days.

The new apartment is a smelly blank slate, and my heart is aching as I face leaving this funky place that is so very effortlessly me. I did not have to create it, it just was. Making the apartment feel like home will take time, effort, and an open heart. I know it will be "fine", but the contrast with this place of light and air and woods and wildflowers is almost too much. I need to think of it all differently. The most important bottom line is this: I am trading this place for freedom.

There is so much to do. And trying to "do" in the swampyard of such heavy emotions? Well...

yeah.

Della is doing wonderfully except for her first barfing last night. I sat there, baby on lap, surprisingly hot barf cupped in my hands and made the choice to dump it on the floor rather than the rug. All elements of this new life.

Did I tell you I fell with Della a few weeks ago? I fell hard and fast against the wall and doorway while she slept in my arms. She stayed sleeping, and in that moment, I felt like maybe I was not a poser.

Motherhood after infertility is rife with the weirdest acute feelings of otherness, of somehow being an outsider in the world of mothers. I do not feel part of that group at all. I feel different. A weird cocktail of shame or embarrassment... Is it because I am so much older? Or because somehow it came so hard? I don't know. I do know this-- I've been too scared to even try to find a local tribe. This weekend my sister came (praise the god-goddess-all-that-is) and brought me reminders of the important things that are not things at all. We went to the lake, wallowed and breathed in fresh cooler air after a week of roasting. I ran into a beautiful woman who was in my birthing class who was there with her partner and their baby girl, born three weeks before Della. Her baby's name rhymes with Della's and we laughed. We're the only two from the class who had girls.

I looked into this woman's eyes, and felt a wave of longing and loneliness I had been ignoring: This want, so badly, to be part of a community in the real world.

In this time of so many transitions, I have really tucked in tightly, and it is hard to imagine opening up-- this vulnerability comes up with such a rush of sadness/otherness. I swear.

Anyway, in spite of me, after she got home she wrote and reached out. I hope to have the guts to meet.

I've always had fantasies about waking up and being able to:

play piano

understand linear equations

whatever

I want to know but always balk at the effort and process it takes to learn, knowing I need to be willing to be really bad at the thing I want to become good at.

I want to have community. I don't want to have to build it. I don't want to be bad at it. I don't want to fail and try again. I just want to be able to lean back into it like a big comfortable chair.

So, anyway, wow. Guess I hit on a nerve there.

Nerves.

Mine.

Anyway, I must get back to work. Sunlight is making the garden look insanely beautiful- coneflower, brown eyed susan's, purple spikey things, hosta blooms that are visited by hummingbirds...daisies as tall as I am. Lush, lovely....

Ok, really, back to work. Signing off with a lovely photo of Della a few weeks back at 8 months.

state of kate

It is wednesday. Doug is home for a few hours and is asleep with Della-- so I wanted to write a quick update on the state-of-kate.

First, a few shout outs-- beloved Kristin asked me to write a letter to my body a few weeks ago which she lovingly posted on her blog, trust tending. If you have not yet visited her blog, please do so-- she is a truly amazing person, writes beautifully and honestly, draws the way I wish I could. She is a soul sister, so please, go there and take a read.

Next--B of No News is not necessarily good news is Pregnant with #2 after her recent and first IVF for this baby! She has a new blog to document this new journey, and she is 43. 43. HEAR ME LADIES, 43. So, if you're looking for some good news, this is most definitely it.

Ok-- now both beloveds are awake, Della is clapping and talking. She has not pooped since sunday (not unheard of but holy wow there is a LOT of oatmeal in there)...

Not sure how all of those pieces of information fit together but,

ok

So-- the house sale hit a huge impasse when bank#1 rejected the offer (remember this is a short sale), appraised the house themselves and requested a much higher selling price. Huh. much higher. 30k higher.

***

days pass

***

it is now saturday afternoon.

so the miracle of the moment is that the house sale is back on as of this moment. Praying to the house gods...

I am in Maine and one of the many Sarahs up here has my baby for the next hour- so I've been like a crazed lunatic updating linkedin, quickly posting on my other blog (heartwork, remember that? so do I!) and now, finally here for a few moments before diving back in to work work.

I quit my day job wednesday, June 29th after 13 and a half years. I already had one contract lined up, and, since then, have secured another one, and a nice creative thinking project. I am not sure what will come next, but so far, things are BUSY and I am feeling a little overwhelmed with Things To Do. I'll be in NH monday-thursday each week (I realized I could not be here full time if I was going to do any work), and then in Maine each weekend until the end of camp when I'll be back in NH full time.

I cannot say what I am feeling since apparently I am the physical embodiment of mercurial. One moment I feel relatively calm, the next I feel panicked, one hopeful, one jazzed with anxiety... I do not feel rested or peaceful. And I don't (yet) feel jubilant. I think things were just too stressful for too long, and I feel very conflicted. I am having a very hard time letting go of my pragmatism in the spirit of a more holistic and happy life. This will take some time, I am willing to wait myself out, but need to keep making space for creativity. WonderfulDella is the most amazing teacher in living in the moment, focusing on whatever is right there, right now, needed or wanted.... immediacy, delight, wonder.

I am hoping for a half day a week to pour out what I am collecting and create space for creativity. It is very easy to just work through all available hours feeling as if that is what I should be doing above all else. So I need to watch myself, you know?

So-- Della is 8 months today, and I will write a post about that very soon. I miss you all, I miss this space, this type of sharing, this community. I am lonely for you all, I really am. My dropping out has to do with time, not interest. Single mothering of this particular little person is very intense and completely interactive. So, as of this week? Half a day to create. Let's see what happens.

If any of you have worked with a particularly good career coach or are good with titles, I need some help with what to call myself and my field of expertise. Please comment or shoot me an email icantwhistle at yahoo dot com.