Understand, then Light Incense

I sat down to write in this blog about an hour ago and was struck with a peculiar loneliness. So, I wrote an old friend instead. Sometimes, I realize how often I neglect writing to individual friends because I am writing in one blog or another. Updating the universe on my life, or at least anyone in cyber space who cares to check in with life on my planet.

A lot of frustration has been building in me lately. As I wrote to my friend, I feel like such a laundry, cooking, cleaning, and toddler-policing machine that I don't get time to see myself clearly anymore. Or my relationship with my husband.

I also realized recently that I don't write enough in here about the great stuff. The enormously intimate and touching mommy and son moments. Here's a bite of the little wonderful bits that occur each day: staring into my son's eyes as he sincerely tries to tell me something that I can't understand whatsoever; feeling his little body grab my leg while I am cooking at the stove; looking up to see him hand me a book, a 1980's video cassette, or just a block and say "heyago;" listening to him say "bye-bye Bub-bub" to the bunny who visits our front yard, as he is going off to bed; seeing him smile when I walk into his room after his morning naps and say "MAMA!," then proceed to show me his stuffed animals, etc., etc.

So much is getting lost in the daily shuffle. The daily laundry list, so to speak, of activities, many of which feel like chores. It takes effort sometimes to pinch myself and appreciate what's going on here. Appreciate the little boy who laughs in his car seat as a means of engaging with the adults in the front. Appreciate the spices in my cabinet and the morning sun shining upon the red and orange leaves.

I know I've been somewhat negligent with friends and family. And, I feel like some can't understand why. Why writing in a blog might be more appealing than writing to one person or why taking care of a child might be so time-consuming.

Mostly, I am just wrapped up in my day, like you are. Yet, my attention is on a little person learning about his world. Learning that he can't bang hard objects against windows, learning that not everything is supposed to get wet, learning that the cat food is just for the cats, learning that birds love bird seed and will flock to appealing bird feeders, and that some dogs jump up and lick your face while others just sniff and go about their business.


My focus is so intensely on preserving this tiny human's life and making his life safe and fun that not much is often left for others, including for myself. I am sure you know what I am talking about. Your life is probably similar, even if different.

At the very least, if you don't have time to call me, take the time to put a little sugar in your coffee or burn some incense on a rainy afternoon. I'll be doing the same, thinking of you.