Dulcet Dragonfly

Loss and gain

This morning finds me feeling much better.  With a brownie and a cup of coffee for breakfast how could it not?  My three year old seems to be of the opinion that one brownie for breakfast is simply torture and that he needs at least three brownies for breakfast.  I am amazed that he is as addicted to chocolate as I am and he is only three.

The personal issue is mostly resolved.  Enough so that I think I can let it go now. 

I'm not sure I have ever been as scared of a change as I am of this move.  I don't want to go, but I don't feel like I can put my foot down either.  Jello has a job offer that is 10K a year more than he makes now, and has plenty of room for advancement.  On days like today it is particularly clear how much we need this: we have eaten everything in the fridge and in the cabinets.  Jello is using the last bit of gas in the truck to get to work and back.  We already borrowed money from a friend to keep us out of the negatives in our bank account, but that ran out as well.  We simply can't live like this anymore, and so we move.  We may even get a bigger place to live.  Right now the three of us live in a tiny two bedroom apartment, which is not so bad, we have figured out how to make the space work for us, but a three bedroom house would be a dream.  But the cost of leaving is high we are leaving very good friends.  We are leaving the only place that has felt like home to me since my family left Europe about seventeen years ago.  We are leaving people I love dearly.  We are moving seven hours away.  At least this does mean that I can still drive back and visit throughout the year.  The loss is still huge.

Malene - Tuesday, May 29, 2007 7:47:31 PM

I know, I know, it has been forever, and yet I'm just going to pick up where I am now and not worry about the months that have gone by in the interim. 

Today my nerves have been in a jangle all day.  I have anxiety pooling in my stomach and it feels remarkably like poison.  I have been nauseous and confused most of the day.  I have one personal issue that will resolve itself eventually, hopefully.  The other issue is that I have been calling moving companies and getting quotes on packing and moving for a move I don't want to make.  The beauty of the rain and thunderstorms has been almost lost on me today I am so far inside of myself.  I know that regardless of what may come in the move and the personal situation I will be okay eventually.  I am really good at twisting and turning and riding with the flow of life.  And I am way too in love with life to let something get me down permanently, but it could be painful for a long while.  I wish I could just settle my nerves at this point, and so I seek distractions.

Back

I finally got it back.  I don't know where it had gone, but it was missing and this week when I was at a low I found it again, my spark, my deep love of life, my appreciation of beauty, and my pure unadulterated joy in life.  I danced outside in the rain, in the dark, under a street lamp, in the house with my ipod singing loudly and possibly offkey (you'd have to ask Jello about that).  I've spent hours this week on beading projects and reading a book purely for pleasure lying in the hammock on our back porch.  I feel like I have myself back and I didn't even know I was missing.  I hate it when I lose myself like that.  I'm dreaming of sex in the rain, long solitary walks, deep conversations with friends, snowball fights and hot chocolate in front of the fire, earth shaking sex, all the things about life that thrill me so.  I truly do love being alive, the simple caress of a cool breeze on my cheek, the gentle coo of a dove, the morning light sneaking slowly upon us through the fading of night, the laughter of my child, climbing into a warm bed with my husband, simply the sheer pleasure and tingle of being alive.

Brain bleed and children's books

I haven't posted in a while because I have been translating until my mind is left numb and bleeding.  It's a whole bunch of technical jargon.  I'm always amazed that I can do it once I've translated a particularly hard paragraph, but ugh.  I want to create and be creative.  I have an idea for a children's book I want to write for my son, several children's books are rumbling around in my brain.  Time, that's what I have none of.  Between translating, editing, taking care of my boy, and working on my thesis there is none of me left.  I have books stacked up next to my side of the bed that I really want to read, I have art projects in my office that are begging me to finish them, and on Thursday I would really like to take my boy to the zoo.  He loves animals, he gets very excited about going to the zoo and it has been a while since I have taken him.  On Friday I have a scary doctors appointment I'd really like to cancel, may in fact still cancel. 

Leaky Boat

In the lonely moments of the day the hours seem to slow to the speed of grass growing.   Two girlfriends came over this morning and our kids played.  The morning flew by, and then afternoon hit and here I sit.  My Munchkin is asleep, I have things to do but very little motivation to do them.  When I am lonely and bored my mind takes on way too many thoughts like a ship taking on too much water and I begin to sink.  A friend called just to tell me that she loved me.  I love those kinds of gestures, her words made me cry.  I am looking forward to the end of this week when my hormones are back in balance again and I can see the world as it is, and not colored by hormones. 

Weekend Review

Why is it that come Monday morning it's a struggle to remember what I did Friday evening?  After a little bit of coffee I can remember the entirety of the weekend.  I am lucky to have the wonderful friends I have.  Most of the weekend was spent surrounded by good friends.  Saturday evening we had a sort of impromptu gathering at our house.  We lit the grill, ate together, and enjoyed the company of our friends.  The highlight was taking my Munchkin to the Butterfly Pavilion yesterday.  He ran excitedly from display to display pointing out the biggest critters he could find.  I survived the spiders although I had to run away a couple of times and let Jello share the Munchkins excitement while I hid until the jitters passed.  The butterflies were beautiful, magical even, and as I tucked my boy in last night he was still talking about them.  We got to see two turtles crossing the path at the pavilion as well.  Everything is more magical when seen through the eyes of your child. 

Scars

I hate it when I have said too many words, and there is too much out there that is true to take back.  And then my words slam into the soft tissue of life in a cataclysmic collision and all I can do is clean up the after math knowing that something is going to change, that my words have left a permanent scar on the face of life. 

Craving words

I woke up lonely this morning.  I am a social creature.  I need to interact with people, I need to feel a connection and a spark.  I need good, deep, intriguing conversations, I need wit and laughter.  I love my son, I cringe at the thought of any one else raising him, but conversing with a two year old is not enough.  I do freelance translations and editing from home for a little extra money, but the work is mind numbing, not stimulating. 

I miss my best friend Chrissy who lives in Germany.  I could talk to her about anything.  We would spend hours just talking covering every topic imaginable starting with our lives and continuing with the world and universe.  We would discuss books we had read, and movies we had seen.  We cooked dinners together and then sat down to them with a glass of wine, candle light, and further deep conversations.  I need her to move to Colorado.  I need words, I need conversation.

Feather dusters and insomnia

This morning my Munchkin found the feather duster.  I saw my opportunity to get some happy help, so being the devious Mama that I am I showed him how to use it.  Now the pilates ball, the rocking horse, my knee, and my pile of graduate studies books have all been dusted with the feather duster.  His version of dusting is much more creative and fun than mine.

Jello and I had a discussion last night about my sleeping habits.  I've had insomnia since I was a toddler.  My doctors visits back then always involved my exhausted Mom asking the doctor how to get her daughter to sleep.  Right now I'm struggling because I get to sleep at about two am every morning and my Munchkin wakes me up at six am.  This has gone on for about a week now, and I have found that I cannot function on four hours of sleep.  This is a chemical thing, not an unwillingness to sleep.  Jello firmly believes that this is my fault, that I have trained myself not to sleep because I don't want to miss out on anything the world has to offer.  He thinks that the solution is simply for me to meditate.  I get very frustrated with his inability to accept that this may be something that is out of my control aside from taking meds, which I refuse to do. 

I forgave him this morning when he arrived at the side of the bed with my morning cup of coffee. 

QotD: The one that got away/Dutch boys

Tell us a little something about your first girlfriend/boyfriend. 

My first boyfriend, Andre, ah, the memories.  He had blond curly hair and big blue eyes.  We must have been adorable together.   My dark curly head and his blond curly head.  He lived in Holland and I lived in Germany so I rarely saw him.  He wrote me letters, snail mail of course, addressed to my brother so my parents wouldn't find out he was writing to me.  I treasured those letters and read them over and over again, until one of them went through the washer and dryer in my pants pocket.  It was a little worse for the wear and much harder to read.  And yet I would still unfold it and try to decipher it.  To this day I am a sucker for a written letter, easily seduced by words.  He was my first kiss.  I remember standing with him behind the school and actually worrying that our braces would stick together when we kissed.  It makes me smile to think of him now.