every tool is a weapon, if you hold it right

How do I even begin to explain the heart ache of another person? How do I tell a story I myself do not even understand, answer questions that have no answers? How do I relive the heartbreak of a child, for the sake of understanding. No one should have to understand such a weight, such a pain - so early in their lives. I want to help her understand what it means, and why we are where we are now. I want to help her grasp the concept of unconditional love - and why it went away. I don't know if I'll ever know the answer. I don't understand how anyone could ever walk away from a child, there is no rhyme or reason to it to help me explain it. I walk through the towering piles of boxes, all containing a piece of the past - a piece of the puzzle. It's all so much bigger than I know how to put into words, it's all so much bigger than my comprehension. I have not come to terms with the hate I have stored for her, the hate she can not yet understand or know how to feel. Who am I to hate for her? Her mother, her keeper, her guardian. Hating doesn't help me to get her through the pain we have to once again face, it doesn't help her to move on and forward. It doesn't help to wallow.

she says its only in my head.

The light crept in too soon, and the numbers on the clock were too far past where I wanted to find them. Your arms were warm, your skin smooth and the small of your back so inviting for the round of my belly. He moves so much when he can feel you close by. I could lay there forever, and shut off the world. Your lips kept me hanging there, as you rolled out of bed and up into the world of the moving people. I wish the people of the world would just stop moving for a little while. The darkness is not long enough when the sheets are that warm, and your body is next to mine. The roller coaster of our life has kept me in a constant state of motion-sickness, and until now, I haven't felt stable on my feet. My knees have stopped shaking, my head feels steady and I can see blue skies in the forecast. It feels like its been a long time. So much happening in such a little time, and I am constantly perplexed by times ability to catch me off guard. 15 weeks, and life as we know it will be forever gone. So for now, until those days have gone and I am waking up with a new life next to our warm bodies - I will stay close to yours. I will wake in the crevices of the dips and turns of your body, safe and warm. Pull the blinds shut, unplug the clock - and smile.

ramble on

Restless and nostalgic. And I find myself inspecting the thoughts that are surging through my head, taking over my perception of what's really happening. I find myself wondering what the point is, wondering what difference does it make? It's a "put one foot in front of the other" kind of world, and I don't have any other option. I remember a time when I believed there was no time-stamp - that the moments that felt infinite would always come and go, and that I never had to worry about it ending. I remember a time when I really believed what I said out loud. I now find myself questioning the words that seamlessly stream from my lips. Sometimes my thoughts seem so far-fetched that even I can't grasp their meanings. Even this, these words I write - don't seem to add up. My head is full, and I'm not sure I remember how to empty it anymore. Mumble Mumble Mumble.

secrets

There is something to be said about the need to hide. I won't even pretend like it is not something everyone does from time to time, a little white lie here and there. In our society it is almost second nature because we are all so damn concerned about hurting other peoples feelings. There is a sense of entitlement to being the "good guy".. a feeling of pride, perhaps. So we make sure we keep everyone happy, everyone smiling - even if it means the occasional "no, that shirt doesn't make you look like a COMPLETE elephant". Where my concern comes in is when we start to elude reality to make way for the reality we have created. When we start to hide things about ourselves, about things we've done or said or felt (or things we're doing, saying or feeling..) and justify it without explanation. We all have secrets, we all have a skeleton, and a closet to hide it in... but when do we let go of that? Eventually, there comes a point when you need (should, could?) open up that closet and let someone in. What's worse is when you've left the door open a peep, enough for someone else to get an idea - and then slam it shut in their faces and tell them it's got nothing to do with them, or that it doesn't matter. It's a courtesy we give to people we let in, to open up the closet and share who we are, what we were and what we are aspiring to be. There is no room for secrets, and I've got nothing to hide.

the business of being born

I felt the amniotic fluid drip down my leg, and I was sure that my bladder had let go completely this time. It was about 9pm that I noticed it but my water didn't break on it's own with Emma, so it was a new concept to grasp. Jenn was here, and she had to convince me that it was indeed my water breaking.. that this was the beginning. It's funny in hindsight, that Jenn was the one who sat with me for the first few hours - for at that point she was not only my enemy, but my best friend as well. So many emotions ran through me, but I was happy to have her here for some reason - happy to walk with her to get things started. By midnight, I had tired myself enough to lay in bed and close my eyes for an hour - so Jenn went home. The hour came and went, and by 1pm I was wide awake and contractions had finally started to make me notice. I reluctantly got out of bed, lite some candles and wandered around the house double checking the kitchen and the bathroom and the bedroom - calming my restless mind that I had managed to prepare my home for a birth all on my own. I called my mum, and I called Lindsey - they were here quickly. I was a lot more confident the second time around, I knew what I did and did not want. I made my way to the bathroom, and ran a bath. I was puking, and I felt really weak - but it didn't have any barring on my progress. Kat and Barb (my midwives) came sometime in the night, although I can't recall when or if I even noticed. We (they) blew up the birthing pool which took up the entire kitchen, just as I had intended. My mum made tea, and forced toast into me. Emma slept peacefully through it all. At one point (I recall it being around 4:11) I was laying on the couch, in a trance - and the sound of the ticking of my wall clock was driving me mental. So my mum took out the battery, and the clock stayed at that time for at least a month after wards. At some point, someone called Kayeleigh and my sister and Laurel - who all made their way over at various points throughout the morning. Transition was different this time, as my water was already broken so there was no clear preparation for it to begin. Emma woke up around 8am, shortly after I had hit transition - I recall that she was really nervous. There were a lot of people in her house, and I was moaning (she still calls me momma bear because of this). I had done a lot of prep work with her to make sure she had an idea of what was to come during her siblings birth. Lise spent most of her time with Emma, and played in the birthing pool with her to keep her distracted. At one point, someone told me, Emma got so anxious she threw-up in the birthing pool. My sister, being the amazing aunty that she is, stayed in with her while someone else scooped out the puke. I remember that more than anything else. I was getting close to the end, I was open and my baby was ready to come - but I did not want to move. I was lured out of bed with the assurance that I could go outside, and walk. Barely draped in my house coat, this is exactly what I did. As soon as I was up and walking, I needed to push... so I started to push, in the back yard. My mum and Lindsey were guiding me through my walk, and when they caught on to what I was doing I was ushered back inside. I laid on my bed, gave one enormous push and there she was. Although, no one told me she was a she - I just assumed, and I had assumed right. It was such bliss, such incredible joy and excitement. Relief and exhaustion quickly followed. Sophie Isabel Dawn was born at 10:13 am on June 10th, 2010 and it was a Wednesday. She weighed 7Lbs 8 ounces - and her hair was black. She nursed like a pro, and fell asleep as soon as everyone had cleaned up and hustled out. Emma went with Laurel for the night, and Sophie and I slept all afternoon. I just remember being amazed. Every time I woke up "it was like Christmas morning" - there was this beautiful little human, that I created and brought into this world. She was my courage that no matter what, I could do what needed to be done. And I have.

Oh, the places you'll go.

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

You’ll look up and down streets. Look’em over with care. About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.” With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you’re too smart to go down a not-so-good street.

And you may not find any you’ll want to go down. In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town. It’s opener there in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen and frequently do to people as brainy and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew. Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.

Oh! The Places You’ll Go!

You’ll be on your way up!
You’ll be seeing great sights!
You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.

You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed. You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don’t.
Because, sometimes, you won’t.

I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you.

You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch. And your gang will fly on. You’ll be left in a Lurch.

You’ll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump. And the chances are, then, that you’ll be in a Slump.

And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin! Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And if you go in, should you turn left or right…or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? Or go around back and sneak in from behind? Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find, for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting.

No! That’s not for you!
Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying. You’ll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing. With banner flip-flapping, once more you’ll ride high! Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you’ll go! There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored. There are games to be won. And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all. Fame! You’ll be famous as famous can be, with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don’t. Because, sometimes, they won’t.

I’m afraid that some times you’ll play lonely games too. Games you can’t win ‘cause you’ll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot.

And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.

But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. On and on you will hike. And I know you’ll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are.

You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)

Kid, you’ll move mountains!
So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea, you’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So…get on your way!

we are only as loud as the noises we make

I really believe that life does not hand us things we cannot handle. We may bite off more than we can chew - but over time I've realized if you chew long enough, eventually it will all get digested. We have both endured treacherous roads, steep inclines and road blocks - but we still concur all, and come out on top. Are we taking on a lot? Sure. Are we biting off more than we can chew? Maybe. Will it break our stride? Not a chance. It's going to be a lot of work, it's going to be stressful - and I don't doubt it will challenge us in ways we have not yet even dreamed of. Despite this, I am confident that although we are facing another steep incline - a scenic decline will follow, and we will once again come out on top. It's unknown, and that is scary - but I'll hold you're hand as long as you're holding mine. Take a deep breath, and jump - you're going do incredible things.

sometimes, most times.

Sometimes, I'm a bad mom. Sometimes, I have to tell Emma to be quiet because I can't listen to her sing for even a moment longer (the repetitive nature is enough to make me scream at the top of my lungs at points). Sometimes, I put the girls in their room - and close the door with instructions not to come out until they are fetched, just to get a few things done without a child grasping my leg or a battle breaking out. Sometimes, I let them eat persians for breakfast because it means one less meals worth of dishes. Sometimes, Sophie's clingy nature makes me want to scream. Sometimes, I lay in bed while they destroy the living room - and even though it ends up being more work for me in the end, it meant a few moments of rest for me (and it's always worth it). Sometimes, I really feel like I hate the endless, thankless tasks that come with being a mother. Sometimes, I won't let them do something creative - because I just don't have the energy or interest to clean up the mess after wards. Sometimes, they eat absolute junk for dinner because I don't want to cook. Sometimes, they watch entirely too much TV.

It's hard to let myself believe that more often than not, I'm a great mom. I have a hard time telling myself "your doing a good job, you have created wonderful children". Most times, I prepare a really well balanced meal and can convince them to eat vegetables (even though they hate them!). Most times, I will pull out all the arts & crafts materials and let them go wild. Most times, I try and be compassionate and calm when they are freaking out - most times, we come to a resolution without me having to yell. Most times, I take them out to the park, or for a walk, or a bike ride. Most times, I am happy to be a mom, and will carry out the tasks associated with being one. Most times, I look at these two marvelous little human beings and think "you're you, because of me - you got here, because of what I did for you." Everyday, I am so thankful for the way life panned out - thankful that they have shaped and molded into strong-willed, independent, smart, beautiful, inquisitive, creative kids. Most days, I wouldn't change a single thing.

of all the thing's I've lost - I miss my mind the most

I've found myself at a road block. I want to write, express, create and release - I want to speak what's on my mind. Instead I find myself filtering my thoughts - ruling out my opinions. I find myself negotiating with my own mind, a self-conscious tweak to everything I am trying to express. I don't know when I lost my confidence in my ability to say what I need to say - but nothing ever seems to come out right. I can sit here, typing and erasing over and over again - it doesn't matter what I'm writing about or what I'm trying to say, it all just seems to come out like jibberish. Maybe I just need to sit with my thoughts for awhile, maybe I need to take a break for awhile. I hope it's not long..