MEMORIES

I was hanging out with my friend earlier, checking out this sweet book she has on Mandalas from different cultures. I love those.

When I was 12, I used to draw them, not knowing what they were, or properly creating them probably. In college I learned a lot more about them, as it was art school. I surmise that I drew a couple then as well. I was more into the boxes and these incredibly beautiful beads I was making though. Fast forward to the very beginning of my relationship with my children’s father, we used to watch a tv show which featured mandalas and meditation as a central theme in several episodes. Here I am now, pining away for my children, coloring them in to keep my anxiety at bay, using them as a meditative aid so that I can focus my energy on positive thoughts.

You’re probably confused. A lot has gone down since May. I won’t get into it in great detail; frankly I could get myself into trouble if I start running my mouth-er-fingers about it. Suffice it to say, I am currently spending 100% less time with my children than I was this time last year, and I miss them horrifically. As if  part of my soul has been removed and is elsewhere, being tortured.

What I’m left with is entirely too much time in my own head. However I had such a happy memory as a result of these mandalas today I couldn’t help but share it. As I scanned the images from her book into my computer so that I may print and color them, or perhaps even play with them in Photoshop or Painter Pro 2 (? some similar program my mom has on her computer. I actually rather like it. If anyone knows anything about it, please let me know. I don’t quite have the hang of it, but I’m ok with basic stuff) or MAYBE one of these days I’ll get into the correct frame of mind and draw some from scratch. Regardless,  I was scanning, and my dear friend puts on a song, asking if I’ve ever heard it.

 

This was the highlight of my day. I used to play this song every morning while I made breakfast for the girls and I. We would sing it and dance around the kitchen even during the darkest of my PPD days. It was how I coped with the fact that I had to get through another day. How I got my blood flowing. And my babies were so sweet dancing around with me, singing along. The best was when DDa would, out of nowhere bust into song: “BLAME IT ON MY ADD, BABY!”

Like the waves during high tide, I was pounded with memories. They flooded my mind and touched all of my senses. Snuggling and watching The Lorax 800 times, playing in the inflatable pool with our old neighbor, tearing up Kale chips like there was no tomorrow and laughing, singing and dancing. Just thinking of these times I am sitting and smiling, probably for the first time all day.

I have some pretty shitty ones, but right now I am immeasurably grateful for my memories because they are all I have to hold on to. I miss my babies. I can’t wait until they come home. So if you’re so inclined, perhaps say a prayer, burn a candle, recite an incantation or chant so the Powers That Be may understand, and know to allow them to come back to me. I appreciate it, and I know that even though I can’t ask them, that my sweet little monkees do too.

 

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Whatever happened to the day of rest?

Ahhh, picture it. Waking up when your body says, “I’m done sleeping”, having a leisurely cup of coffee while gazing blankly out the window. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining. Spending the day enjoying hobbies or other leisurely activities.

WE’LL HAVE NONE OF THAT NONSENSE HERE.

Thought I’d share with you my itinerary for the next couple hours.

2:40pm-5pm: Clean, organize, launder, fold, put away, vacuum, mop, repeat until return of children.
5-?: Make and serve dinner to two incredibly hyper children. Clean up dinner. Carry children to bathroom for bath as they fight to escape. Run water. Chase and (hopefully) catch 3 yr old, returning her to bathroom. Convince her to take clothes off (normally she is refusing to put clothes on). Wrestle (literal, actual physical exertion) clothes off 21 month old. Help her on and off potty 17 times. Retrieve naked 3 yr old from hiding place. Retrieve naked 21 month old from hiding place. Figure out how the heck to keep the stupid ear plugs in the ears and not in the hair.
Put kids in the tub. Lather while 21 month old screams and tries to climb out of tub while 3 yr old plays mermaid. Rinse little one while convincing other one why she needs soap. Take little one out and roll in towel like burrito. Finish washing and rinsing now crying 3 yr old because she wasn’t first. Dry, lotion and pajamafy both. Carry them, one in each arm back to bathroom to brush teeth while explaining (as I do twice every day ) why we brush at least twice a day. Put little one in crib. Begin desperate search for pacifier. Find it. Wash it. Insert it. She’s out. Find 3 yr old back on the computer doing her kids learning games. Carry her back up to bed. Play musical beds. After 2 hours give up and go downstairs. Sit down, wipe sweat from brow, and find you have been joined by 3 yr old.
Get self ready for bed. Drag self into it. Find 3 yr old already in it, taking up all the space. Lay on floor. Sleep.

(Crap now I’m 16 minutes behind schedule)

How do you spend your Sundays?

Be sure to visit these pages too…

Not merely clouds and rainstorms, I also photograph food a lot.

While cleaning out old pics, I found this.

It's hilariously sardonic if you take a moment to consider it. Two of my three new buddies.  These two slept by when I went into a sugar induced coma. 
Meet Rocky and Wiggles. Wink hasn't warmed up to me yet, but she will. During the interim, these lil snugglemachines give me a happy. Many thank yous to the Queen of this domain for being so welcoming. Love you Mama! Happy #WalkingDead Monday!
#TheDayAfter #TheWalkingDead #DeadYourself #ImAZombie This is what I look like in my head. #NoFoodAfterMidnight #DoubleEntandre (#notreally)
But seriously.  This is what my nights are like. 😉
@rekkr88njsps #IfIWasAZombie #DeadYourself 
#TimeSuck
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