I’ve been working on my play date hostessing this year and it shows. Today, I served what turned out to be pumpkin bread for lunch (oops!), cleaned up broken glass in the backyard, and hosed both poop and pee off my child while also holding up a towel (gotta be discreet, ya know!).
At one point, my friend’s child and Thomas were both running around in the non- broken glass section of the backyard. It was a vision of two boys in nothing but underwear and flip flops laughing in circles, high weeds underfoot, chasing after each other with sticks and shouting. And all I could think was, Yes, I’ve finally made it. I reached a motherhood milestone where I’ve found a friend I feel so comfortable around I’m happy to be with even when I’m having very, very real mom moments. Because, dude, that’s my life. Come on over to eat "lunch" while standing at the counter and holding a baby and hearing me shout things like “No, no, boys. Don’t run over there in the poop zone!’
Heaven. Death. Eternity. These are like the trifecta of my worst fears. Like woah. If you wanted to annihilate me while sitting on a couch and equipped with no weapon save the weight of your iphone, you could opt to go the verbal route, saying things like “You will die one day, Ashley. You can’t be absolutely sure what will happen when you die. And it will happen FOR-EV-ER!!!” I will breathe heavily, go crazy-eyed, shed some tears, and panic attack myself into a one woman riot. I imagine, anyway.
My mother-in-law recently heard me blaze on about my fear of death enough she thought to buy me this book:
...and guess what! I did not know what the Catholic church believes about heaven (in fact, according to this book, what all Christians believe about heaven.) That’s a bit embarrassing to reveal but hey, maybe there’s another misdirected control freak out there terrified she will have to one day die and wondering if there's a book that could curb her from that one woman riot against the dying of the light.
Even though I’m still reading the book with one eyebrow way up high in the skeptical arch, I’m finding it a great source of comfort. Have you read it? Do you ever fear death? Do you have questions about the afterlife?
Podcasts! I listen to them a lot so that I can feel like I’m in conversations with adults in between wiping off (or hosing off!) butts. I need some recommendations though. A blogger on my feed recently posted something about podcasts and I thought I would read it later but now I have no idea who it was. Helpful side comment, huh. If you have a favorite podcast or know that recent post, would you please leave a comment and let me know. I would so appreciate it. I need to switch things up a bit & since podcasts are one of my tried and true sanity savers, momma needs some help!
Is it still spring cleaning season? Are people still building up their little gardens? Any of you able to stop time so I can squeeze some of this in? What happened with the past two months? I have so many pressing things on my list and a lot of things are just not happening. I’m suppose to be doing all the things because I’m a SAHM, right? Good days for me are a calm mommy, a clean kitchen, and the teeniest slice of “other” tackled on my list. You?
There are two things I think that every parent everywhere should do:
1. Read to your child.
2. Walk with your child.
These two things are possibly my two favorite gifts my parents passed off to me and now I get to pass them to Thomas. No matter how yucky the day has been emotionally, Thomas and I always open up over a book. And he always opens up when he walks. There’s so much hope, creativity, love, and connectedness that blooms quiet each time a book is open or a loop is taken around the block.
This week, Thomas told me his Aunt Elsie teached him that if you blow on dandelions you get your wish. Just say the word, he said. He told me he wished that I would stay, and with a little questioning he explained that meant he didn’t want me to leave or for anyone to take me away. Oh brown eyes. No, I’m never going away and I’m definitely never going to die. Ever.
*No, I didn’t really tell him that but I seriously considered it.
Here’s a snippet from a post I wrote recently but was cut [didn't make it to the blog] due to Paul’s apt assertion that the conclusion felt like he was being force fed rainbows:
I want to climb metaphorical chairs and shout to my peers. I am NOT the mother you think I am. (I’m better and worse than that.) I am NOT the wife you think I am. (I’m happier and sadder than her.) I am NOT the person that you think I am. (I only buy makeup from Clinique and often eat cheese paired with wine but can be found wearing the same pair of shoes until they start resembling something pulled from a trash can and own so few clothes I could seriously fit them into a single suitcase.)
This snippet shines light on the reality that I’m hard on myself and not fair with others (in that I make them out to be the best Catholic! the smartest shopper! the calmest mom ever and how does she do that?!). Working on it. Grace. Gotta channel that!
.Yeah, This video is not working at this time. I just signed up for Vimeo. Come back soon & maybe the babies will cooperate then. :/
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