I know that Winter doesn't officially start until December 21st, but with the end of November fast approaching and Thanksgiving officially over, "Winter" is already here in this house. Well, maybe just in my head. But I'm the Mom and I say so, so it IS Winter, dang nabbit.
Rainy mornings are my favorite. It gives us an excuse to stay in our pajamas a little bit longer and drag the morning out with no guilt. At least for me - Roman doesn't know any different. After wearing his turtle shell all morning, popping some shoes over his fleece footie pajamas and pulling on a hat, he was ready to go "ow-sigh" for some exploring.
I know this is going to sound weird, but I can feel my soul.
I can feel my core, the part of me that's me outside of my body. Electric, powerful. Perched in my chest, throbbing when something connects. My soul is not OUTSIDE of my body (for now) but the part of me that is more than bone and skin and blood. The tingly part. The part that feels love and anger and wholeness and lack. I have felt lately like I am more whole than ever before, but so broken at the same time. How is that even possible? I don't know if there is a way to describe what's going on with me these past few weeks more than the words above. I feel at peace and am thankful for all the hardships in my life's past, the trying things, the heartbreaks, the pain and doubt. I feel so thankful to feel what's going on inside of me, even if it feels broken. Electric. Even if it feels like something is out of whack. Like something is missing, even though I have no clue as to what that might be. I couldn't ask for a better man, a better baby boy or a better family (so much family). We are living in the home that we have decided that we want to make our own. Dustin has a long commutes (1.5 hours each way), but he manages and does it for us. We are happy. I am happy. I am healthy (as far as I know). We make enough to get by and still save. Grown up things.
Despite my recent up and down in the self confidence department, I don't think I'm that bad looking in general (girl bullshit) and I'm working on my friendships (all of them). I've come to expect nothing from any of my friendships, and surprise, I'm never disappointed. It's actually working VERY well. I do need to put more effort into a few of my friendships (*cough* Danielle, Kerena *cough*) because I've been kind of lame and I love them too much to not reciprocate their energy because they try pretty hard to make things happen and I kind of suck.
I've been going to The Nova Studio more often to help out and I feel so at home there. So in my element. Why is it that I can't scrounge up the guts to get my ideas and art and business off the floor? God, I am my own worst enemy. Nobody fights me as hard as I do. I'm incredibly frustrated with myself, but the second anyone tries to nudge or push me along in the direction that I so desire to go, I push back, both feet (fake and all) deep in the earth. Pushing, fighting, defeating myself. Grow some balls, woman. I may have to go all Figh Club on myself. That's funny in more than one way, and if you get it, I might just kiss you.
If you feel like listening to words sung by a boy that I met one night, please do. It's really rather pleasant. Electric.
Roman's favorite thing to do lately is art, or "ow-t," as he calls it. Crayons, markers or water colors, plus a sheet of paper and my boy is golden. It blows my mind to see him holding the tippy top of the paintbrush handle in his little baby-boy fingers. When did my guy get big enough to hold a paintbrush, smoosh it into the water and then smoosh it even harder into the (read: ALL) paint pans? Seriously, I look at his at least twice a day and swear that he's grown a 1/4 of an inch since the last time I saw him. He has so much personality and repeats EVERYTHING, too. Today he started identifying the doll that my Mother-in-Law made him, a Yo Gabba Gabba Brobee (the little green one!), as "Bo-bee." And then I died a thousand deaths from happiness, pride and love. How is it possible that I am more proud of this little guy saying two syllables than I ever have been of myself? (I feel like I've said this before.) Gosh, I love him. Ill have to post some video of him saying cute thing. His repeat of my "I love you" is the sweetest, most awesome ("ahh-tum!") thing to ever be said aloud by anyone on the face of this Earth at any point in time, ever. Seriously.
|DJ Lance approves of this post.|
|Left and right handed, though he favors his right.|
Also, is he not the most gorgeous little boy ever?
The recent arrival of Autumn has been settling us down much earlier and much easier than than I expected. We linger in our pajamas just a little bit longer in the mornings, and change into them a little bit sooner in the evenings. Multiple cup of hot tea, daily. Rain on rooftops. Fluffy slippers. Waking up chilled, having to adjust the blankets and snuggling down deep into the mattress. Hot desserts. Sweaters for my toddler. Inside activities. The copy of A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving that is just begging to be played for the first time. Bundling up my little sprout before we go outside. He happens to be growing like a dandelion. I swear its noticeable. Blankets that are now permanently (at least until Spring) stationed on the couch. Extra spooning - to share warmth, of course. Sticking my ice cold toes on Dustin's calves when I first get in to bed. He lets me, too. That's true love, friends.
I wish you nothing but true love.
|Evening apple crumble making.|
|"Crayons are for paper only, Roman."|
|Pugs at Mom's house|