what we want, what we are wanting

Hi Folks! I have a guest post up at Seek Your Course!
I'd love it if you'd pop over and check it out. It is an empowering meditation about wanting.
It is always a bit surreal to see my words packaged in such a polished fashion, but I also have to confess a bunch of sheepish pride.

falling, saving myself, great fits and starts

once I wrote that flying is just falling and saving yourself over and over again, and I thought i was pretty clever but, of course, a bazillion other clever people have seen it the same way

so here I am
falling, saving myself, falling, saving myself.

I realized that I was stressing myself out, being crazy busy, working as hard as I could, putting in the biggest effort possible-- more hours of daycare meant more time to work, more hours of daycare meant I needed to work more time... and clients come and go, projects come and go... and
finally, after working like that-- there came a moment when I realized if I cut back on everything, that really, the only thing that would be different is my stress level.
Financially we'd be no better or worse off, but my days would get unwound from the crazy insanity of go go go go go go that I've been running, to something maybe more manageable.

Then, in the middle of that, there is summer, and Doug being away, and serial Della sickness and barfinesses thanks to daycare that kept me/us from being able to go and see him, and finally
yes
stop.
rebuild.
slowly.

Along with this, a new client who is a great fit.
And, my own heartwork, developing it fits and starts, culminating in a workshop I gave yesterday on everyday mindfulness that 11 brave and wonderful women attended... I was absolutely where I was supposed to be, doing what I was supposed to be doing.
Right fit.

So, I am in a rebuilding and regrouping phase. Daycare is not an option for summer, and I need to just know that and plan for it if Doug is away.
Working like a crazy insane person to pay for daycare to come out even or behind is actually crazy and insane of the option for working like a slightly less crazy and insane person leaves me in the same position.

Lesson learned.
For now.
Because right now I am in the saving myself part of the program.

junior birdman

I am not sure where I left off, was it before the latest all night barf or after? Was it before I wanted to move or after? was it before I quit daycare? before I decided that work as it was was untenable?

up in the air junior birdman

more when I have two hands

how interesting it will be to see how things settle (once again proving that panic and opportunity are bedfellows)

bitten

Della came up behind me last night as I was standing at the sink in the kitchen,
then
leaned forward, ever so sneakily,
and
bit me very hard, directly in the butt. the bite was so surprising and so hard I yelped out, and spun around. She cried, since she was just curious. And I did give her a tiny lecture, but I had scared her with my reaction enough I figured.  Man alive, I will have some bruise there.

In other news, our apartment building has fleas. None in here yet. But many, many, many out there. I am feeling like a house bound crazy person. I cannot get to the car, or the laundry or the garbage without removing many many many from my legs. I have tried spraying myself with cedar (a repellent) and I still run out of fingers.

I am looking for alternatives (aka cannot imagine moving but cannot imagine staying), so any locals who know of an apartment or small house to rent? I am all ears.

(the landlord met with me and an exterminator, and they really are trying, but they are not winning (nor are they as irritated as I am since apparently I am irresistible flea-nip) and I am done.

In other news, the summer is being its own insane self, complete with layers of complexity that we did not choose, and others that I have created from not wanting to make too many changes (ha) or saying no to any potential incoming work. Compressed schedule plus daycare in flux and now farther away and a real desire to focus on my own work, and, yes. Each day, no matter how productive, always has a list longer at the end than at the beginning.  Too much to chew, to stay on theme.

So. yes.
bitten
and bitten
and too much to chew.
that's my story.

Losing Papa

Doug's grandpa died early this morning.
He was grandpa and father and friend. He was bedrock. It is hard knowing that this loss brings every other kind of shift away from all that could be counted on, a house that was home will be gone most likely, and all the history that it contains.
But memories, those will last if we're lucky.
The smell of caramel cake, and a deep throated laugh, the world's most horrendous teeth...
I will always remember our visit in March, he met our amazing Della, and I rubbed lotion into his hands. And I confess, I took longer than I needed to, imagining all those hands had touched.

happy welcome

WELCOME MICHAEL!  Michele's new little one is here, safe and sound.

3 Della photos

Projects with Momma Sally (my beautiful Mom):