If I Seem To Act Unkind, It’s Only Me, It’s Not My Mind

If My Sky Should Fall

Search for reflection in life.

Today’s Photohunt Theme is “Reflection”

“The world is a looking glass and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face.”
-William M. Thackeray

Fecal Matter Frustration and Hereditary Narcissism

We’ve been on the potty-training roller coaster with Braden for some time now, and seriously, this experience has been enough to really not want any more kids.  I’ve joked around about that before, but there are times when the whole thing really is just that frustrating.  Fecal and Urinary Trickery and Frustration really can make you want to rip your own uterus out of its warm, abdominal resting place and shove it down into the sink garbage disposal.

“Poop!” he yells.

We go to the bathroom, he sits on the potty.

For a long time.  And reads a book.

Then he’s “ah-dun!” and gets down.

No poop is in the potty.

But he delights greatly in telling me “Eh-Poop!” later, when it’s in his pants.  Then he runs like mad to the bathroom so we can put it in the toilet and flush it, while he says, “Buh-byyyyeee, Puh-POOOOO!!!”

If he weren’t so cute, I’d shove him in with it.

I’ve even tried this great tip (is that not hilarious?) but I don’t think he really cares what the poop wants to do.  It’s all about him, don’t you know!? (I have NO idea where he gets that from. *cough*)

He pees on the toilet more reliably, but by NO means all the time.  And he has “accidents” on the carpet/floor/step stool in the bathroom which are not really accidents at all, if you ask me.  I mean, when someone is just doing his thing, then he stops, take a stance that thrusts his crotch out, and smiles devilishly at you while he starts an incredibly healthy and strong stream of urine all over something you don’t particularly want urine on?  IT’S NOT AN ACCIDENT.  IT’S AN EVIL DEED.

He has also become incredibly obsessed with running to the bathroom and climbing up on the step-stool I placed in front of the sink to make it possible for him to learn how to wash his hands.  Does he want wash his hands very badly? No, he wants to flip the lights on and off (remember how he became obsessed with that a long time ago?) and “perform” in front of the mirror, with much silliness.

I’ve stopped him now by buying a cheapo wall mirror (about $4.75 for those of you taking detailed notice of what I spend around here) and hanging it at his level in the living room. 

Now he dances and performs in front of it, or just stands there laughing and talking to himself.

So yes, it is official.  Narcissism is quite hereditary.

*turns head, looks upwards, and starts whistling*

*walks away nonchalantly*






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Looking back over my shoulder, and then towards the horizon.

So, I’m still thinking a lot about how much time I spend being a Momma, and how much time I get to just be me.  And the disparity.  And how I need to manage that better, and have help doing so. 

Thinking about what I need to be a mentally healthy, happy person.

Thinking about how I need to carve out something that’s my own, and to myself.  You know, time for me to just step to the side, alone, and say, “Leave me alone right now.  I need to just be me for a little while.” 

 

I LOVE this gig as mother and wife, don’t you DARE get me wrong.  But, people, I am MORE than that.

see…

Before my son and my husband, I actually existed and had interests and desires!  Oh.  My.  Gah.

I was this functioning, complex, driven person before a human being was thrust forth from my nethers. 

I was a dreaming, aspiring, determined to go and do and become! person before I ever heard that sweet Texan drawl on the other end of the phone line back in 2001.

Who I am and the direction I’ve been pointed in has changed in so very many ways in the past several years.  The way the wind has blown for me has constantly changed, it has whipped me this way and that, and I was lucky enough to be able to let myself float along with that ferocious breeze. 

You see, some time ago, I said, “Self?” 

And My Self said, “Yup, Loter?” 

And I said, “Self, I’m kinda scared, because I had all these really specific plans for Us.  And, um, Self, things might go weird if We grab ahold of this sail and let the wind whip Us somewhere else.” 

And My Self just leaned back and said, “Hmm, is that so?” 

And I said, “Yeah, Self.  I’m really kinda scared.  But I think it might be interesting, too.” 

And My Self raised an eyebrow and said, “Ya think?” 

And I said, “Yeah, I do.  And that We might regret it if We let that sail pass Us by.” 

And My Self?  Well, it just smiled and said, “Well, then, what are We waiting for?”

And we grabbed the sail.  And we let the wind fill it and carry us away from all of our special plans.  And it showed us lots of other things we never knew were in store for us.

Very many good things have befallen this lady’s self.  A few bad things have trampled on her, as well.  And she has learned very much about Her Self.

And now?  I’ve been doing this thing right here for a little over nine months.  That’s right, this website has gestated for a complete term, and it is… well, it’s helping me birth the realization that I am actually DOING some things here that I have a talent for! (Right?  Please tell me I’m not completely delusional.) and which I thoroughly ENJOY!

The photos, the writing, the sharing, philosophizing, and pondering out loud, with wordage, to all of you.

I feel I am becoming something better.  I feel I am finding my place in the world.

And people, I can’t let anything stop me.  It’s time for some serious time-management strategies.  Momma’s got a job here on Teh Internets, ya’ll.  And even though it pays little more than extreme satisfaction at the ability to create, and do, and even become!, Momma is gonna stick with it, folks.

My Self and I?  We just bought a compass.

I think I left my heart in Austin, TX.

Because every time something reminds me of the time when I lived there, my chest aches.

I miss you, Austin.

I miss the friends I made there. I miss the guy for whom all food is Mexican. I miss the redhead with the unruly toddler who asked me, “did you smell my toot?” I miss the die-hard bargain shopper who loves all things lemon and tea.  I miss the guy who showed me “too many colors!”  I miss the kitchen ninja who made my hair become strands of many hues. I miss that lovely blonde girl who autographed my boobie. I miss the unruly, late-night-TC-eating, prankster.  I miss she of the ripped skirt. I miss them all.

I miss hating, loving, and being challenged by my job. I miss my bosses, my employees, and my customers. (I also kind of don’t miss my bosses or my customers. There were moments, okay?) I miss late night floor changes that made me want to rip my face off, followed by late night drinking with co-workers, where I generally laughed what was left of my face off.  I miss being late to work, because it meant I had a schedule.  I miss being a part of the outside world.

I miss Pastor Jeff and his Hawaiian shirts. I miss how he looks kind of like Phil Jackson, but in a cuddly, teddy bear way. I miss being a greeter at church and holding the door for people. I miss the feeling of being in the place where I was baptised.

I miss our large dog in the backyard who used to chew pieces of our house off when he got bored. I miss the way he was over 100lbs, but The Mexican, at 5lbs, was in charge of him. Because he was a gentle giant.  I miss how when we first got them both as puppies, they drove me crazy until I thought I would rip all my hair from my head.  I miss the way they used to play together and bring me endless joy.

I miss giggling like a school girl, but then kind of throwing up in my mouth a little, as we passed by Hippie Hollow on our way to other spots along Lake Travis. I miss playing at the lake all day and then sipping a margarita on the deck of The Oasis. I miss feeling sun drunk and heady, sitting on that deck, set into the side of the cliff, as I stared into John’s eyes while the sun set over the water right below us. I miss the way they used to ring the bell right at the moment the sun slipped below the horizon, and how everyone in the whole place clapped.

I miss celebrating the sunset with strangers.

I miss living in the house we owned together… young, careless, stupid. I miss late-night partying and reckless behavior. I miss deciding to sleep until noon, just because it felt so cuddly in his embrace. I miss going out just for doughnuts at 2am if we felt like it. I miss taking my youth for granted. I miss being carefree.

I miss my garden. I miss being able to dig up whatever part of the yard I damn well pleased and plant anything my heart desired there. I miss the lime tree I planted just so that I’d never have a Corona in my hands that lacked a lime. I miss living where a lime tree would actually thrive.

I miss Taco Cabana. Whataburger. Kerbey Lane. CHUYS. (I would kill a man with my bare hands right now for that creamy jalapeno dip.)

I miss this guy quite a lot:

More Cory Morrow

I miss bare-foot weather 361 days of the year and more blue skies with puffy clouds than you can dream.

I miss the way you look, the way you feel, and who I was when I was with you, Austin.

I could go on, but what’s the point, really?

I miss you, Austin.

I wonder if you miss me.

They reflect times we may have forgotten.

Kids, that is.

I’ve been spending more and more time with my son outside lately, as the weather has improved steadily.

I love being outside in the warmth and the sunshine.  It makes me feel alive in a way that nothing else does.  In Spring, it is especially enjoyable.  I can look around and see the green of the grass and the trees, the blue of the sky; I can feel the warmth of the sun, and I can smell that sweet scent that wafts on the breeze that tells you things are growing and blooming all around.

Braden feels that joy, too.  Nothing excites him like the prospect of going outside.

Today after his nap, still groggy and clinging to my side after coming downstairs, he said to me, “go ow-sigh.”

And so we did, again.  And I watched him play and enjoy himself.  And I wondered if he would always like being outside like this.

And I thought about why I like being outside so much.

And I remembered.

Sometimes, they reflect things.

Life is good.