A friend directed me here and the wave of emotion I felt reading it surprised me. We have long taught Coach Rapper breathing techniques, and he he liked to go into the cat shed to meditate and would do so throughout the summer of his own accord, just to get some space or to retreat from the chaos of 3 boys in under 5 years plunked in a yurt in the bush with no utilities. Let it be known that Coach Rapper is as quirky as I am (or Mr.T) and all of the craziness of the last few years hasn’t been quite what I would have planned if I well, was capable of planning for a high needs baby who didn’t sleep through the night until he was 3, or maybe it was chronic lack of sleep that made us think we should jump ship and homestead. Somehow we have totally dropped this since we left Erie Kingdom and made our way to the city. The combo of the faster paced life, leaving Daddy behind for a month, starting school- he has really been struggling the last few weeks with anxiety.
I don’t like my life he said,
when did he get so introspective?
deep breath, rolling thoughts, calm.
it’s hard he said, to be the oldest, I want to be the baby instead
It’s loud he said, my head it hurts
my brothers are too crazy
My head feels weird, my head feels numb
Try breathing deep, another breath
in through the nose and out through the mouth
his growing body all legs and arms relaxes
go ahead and breath my sun, clear your mindfulness
Mama, I almost never feel lonely or sad he said, I carry you in my head”
With his last hurrah’s, he thanked me for our family bed.
We were in the front yard, the voluntary sunflowers were drooping down overhead, a little bit sparkly. I was shovelling new garden beds into the stepped (cliff) front yard of the Yurt. By this time I was wearing ear plugs and sunglasses, even inside the Yurt. Not that Yurts feel like you are inside anyway. They seem like….an outdoor room. I was shovelling quickly, the baby was either on my back on in the jumperoo, or the playpen- which I kept outside. I couldn’t let him loose, I was too afraid of losing him or throwing a shovel full of rock on him. The bigger boys sat on the path cutting blades of grass with scissors for hours and hours. I worked like a maniac. It made me stop thinking, it made a change I could see.
I never really know what exactly was going on around my vivid memories. Maybe Mr.T was at work, maybe he was at home. I was happy- my mood was elevated and I had tons of energy. I couldn’t sit still. When I was still, I couldn’t turn off my brain. This means I was not getting much done. I was dizzy. That damn phone was ringing. The radio was playing. I heard dial tones, people laughing. I stopped asking the kids, my husband, my brother if they heard them too. I just sort of lived with it, since I can vividly remember hearing the radio/phones a lot when I was a kid. I hear things. But they aren’t bad things really, just things.
What really got to me was when I started seeing things. A duck would turn into a paper bag, though I swear it moved. I saw mice all the time, in the corners, zooming by outside, running over my feet.
Let me tell you a little story.
There was a big ol’ Grandpa mouse and he was eating the peanut butter off the mouse trap. TWO days in a row. We live in the woods, mice are bound to be an issue at first. I mention to Mr.T that we should get cats. He mumbles, which I think signifies he agrees, and he thinks signifies he isn’t listening to me.
The kids and I went on an awesome playdate with a couple girlfriends to an amazing little fairytale park bordering the forest with a huge grassy knoll and a view of mountains in Fruitvale. It was lovely. Somebody started screaming about something once we were in the car, I put in my earplugs for a quiet drive home, taking the scenic route hoping whoever was screaming would fall asleep. Wait. What is that? How is it possible? FREE kittens? I stopped the van swiftly, backed up and eased down into the valley that held the farm of our future beauties.
“! WHO WANTS A KITTEN” I exclaimed while unbuckling Coach Rapper and his Lordship Ali.
And the children, in disbelief scrambled out of their seats and to the lady sitting on her steps ruffling her doggies fur. “You’re here for the kittens?” She drawled; raising her eyebrows and taking a deep breath through her extra long, extra lite virgina slim. She was wearing riding boots and had one leg resting on the stairs. Or something like that. There was a woman there anyway.
We picked the cutest two kittens (what, how would you pick out a kitten?) and drove them home to show off to Mr.T.
What? No…It’s okay, we talked about it. Surely you remember?
Within a few weeks our tiny, cute, rodent like kittens had killed the fat Grandfather mouse.
But I STILL saw mice. Everywhere, running and zooming all over the ground.
I asked Mr.T if we could get outdoor cats for the outdoor mice.
“I finally understand cat ladies” he said as he walked away.
I took that as a no.
April 2011- Our cats are grown up, beautiful and great at killing mice-where ever they are.
PS. If you have read all of this, and actually find it interesting, please pass it on. I googled how to get more traffic to my blog, but it would take me a week to even figure out how to sign in to stumbler. I won’t admit to how long it took for me to figure out wordpress. I read the tutorials, oh yes I did! Besides, I don’t have my own laptop (see shitmykidsruined.com for examples of why) and in a couple weeks won’t have internet access. So for me to keep posting, I will have to borrow a computer and drive to the internet cafe. I really won’t have time to both blog AND figure out how to find people to read my blog. And to be honest, I’ll probably lose motivation to keep writing for 30 people with all that extra work!
Maternal Mental Health awareness is really important, I know from sharing my story in person, that many women can relate to it. Or are at least comforted by the fact I am crazier than they are! Plus, you have the added TV reality show like hurdles I’ve created for myself in trying to wade through all of this off the grid!
All of that rambling right there is basically begging you to share my blog, with whoever you think might enjoy it. Because, simply, I don’t know how.