Going Backwards...

Source: ffffound.com via Alli on Pinterest

Molly was on the naughty spot for forty minutes today. Forty minutes of screaming, yelling, kicking and wailing. When it gets past two minutes the point of the punishment becomes irrelevant and the time out is more about putting a healthy distance between two very angry people. I walked away from her wriggling, raging body and went downstairs, deliberately taking deep breaths with every step. I sat down on the couch picked up my journal and wrote five little words:

I hate being a mum.

Right in that moment I could barely have meant it more. Reaching that kind of brutal realisation was a culmination of many factors, toilet training being a large one, but the greatest contributer has nothing directly to do with Molly or Finch. It is this darn grim mood I've been wearing, or that's been wearing me. I feel I have been walking around heavy hearted for over two months now. It's different than I've felt before. It isn't an eventful sadness, just a deep one. I am continually racking my brain to figure out why, why now? I've been continuing along the same path for 21 months now things have been progressively been getting better, easier and more hopeful. I've felt capable and at times I even felt victorious. But now I feel right back at square one. I was standing alone in my kitchen the other day, sipping green tea and feeling bleak when I found myself sighing and saying aloud 'it's like he left me yesterday'. And that's how I feel most days (at the moment). I'm not sure wether it's the looming divorce, which of course I want, there is no turning back now and severing as many ties as possible is needed and wanted. But it's like my head is stuck in the past and each thought and memory ultimately concludes with the same resounding chorus 'how did it all go so wrong? how could he? how did I get here?'

It's a round the clock pity party I'm holding in my head. I do know that. But I feel I must enter it in order to get through it. I've taken up my journal again and am scribbling down my morbid thoughts in a hope to cleanse myself of them. Cleanse myself so that I do not let my ugly attitude leak and infest my parenting. When I happened upon the above image on a late night pin-party I nodded my head, I am 'going backwards to recover that which was left behind in the rush'.

This is the first night that Molly and Finch are sharing the same bedroom. It's something I'm going to try out for a while. Before I started writing this I snuck upstairs and peaked in on them. I tucked them in and made sure their favourite blankies were close at hand if they woke up scared, I kissed their little heads and I whispered five little words:

I love being a mum.

Bad Attitude

Molly: Can I have a cuddle mummy?

She leans in and butts me in the mouth giving me a bloody lip

"OUCH!"

Molly: Can I kiss it better?

It's been a long day of one child related 'disaster' after another,

I start to loose it.

"NO Molly, no, no you can't kiss it better, it's really sore!"

Molly: Can you say sorry Mummy?

"And just what do I have to say sorry for Molly?"

Molly: umm......you're angry.

Touche.

And then she gets her cuddle.

Lebowskifest 2011

Some great friends were visiting from Canada. So it seemed like the perfect excuse for another little Lebowskifest. Twas a brilliant evening with brilliant people. There were White Russian's a plenty and we all snuggled together by a firepit, watched the movie projected onto a farmhouse and shouted 'It really ties the room together!' at any given moment. You can find a previous little Lebowskifest featured here.

A couple of White Russians and a Baby Jesus.

The Dudes

Autobahn

Woman with Bowling Ball.

Finding Myself [single]

I've never been entirely fond of the concept of 'finding yourself'. It always seemed like a luxury reserved for middle class, naval gazing, women. Think of the constant self centered meanderings seen in Eat. Pray. Love [vomit] (I can only speak for the movie, not the book) or the selfish pursuits of Meryl Streeps character in Kramer vs Kramer. Ugh blah blah blah, why don't you just go eff* yourselves (*eff = find. See? I wasn't being profane, I was being witty :o)

But here's the thing. I 'find myself' using this phrase quite a lot now. Not so much in the vague, naval gazing sense, but as a precursor to something else 'I find myself thinking about an imaginary career', 'I find myself sitting cross legged on the kitchen floor shouting 'I'm the BOSSSS'', 'I find myself hiding in the laundry room eating a chocolate bar as fast as I can so the kids wont see' and most commonly 'I find myself - single again'. The phrase seems to have set up home in my daily vocabulary, a symptom of being involuntarily thrust from one phase of life [back] to another. A shorthand to describe the feeling of waking from a long sleep, scratching my head and squinting my eyes to figure out where I am.

And within this 'helpless' state I 'find myself' (there I go again) learning to discard my previous disdain for self discovery and dabbling in a bit of it myself. There are many times I catch myself mid sentence and suddenly think 'oh wait, do I really think that, or did he/we?'. Not that I was in any way a subservent, meager, imitator in my marriage. But It's impossible to be in a partnership and avoid the inevitable merging of views. In turn perhaps we compromise something of our true, authentic voice?

I'm not chanting in a candle lit room, or going on any exotic pilgrimages (if only the latter). But I do 'find myself' having to mull things over more. It isn't so much a journey of self discovery as it is self expansion. I have claimed it, made it deliberate and decisive. And fun.

I'm sure all of you fantastic blog readers will have came across this video many times. It seemed to go viral about 6 months ago. But you will never tire of a good thing so have another wee watch.

Ps. Guess who turned one?!

He is a perfect little man full of giggles and big sloppy kisses. I cannot imagine my life without him.

28

It has been a crazy [1.5 years] few months here at Chez Steen. Filled with more febrile convulsions - 4 collectively (Finch decided to join that club too, I can hardly believe it), a minor car accident with big financial consequences, a dog bite, molly 's first ever nightmares and countless other things that seem minor on paper but when they all come one after the other leave me feeling spread way too thin. The sort of things that don't co-exist comfortably along with the social life a single girl needs in order to maintain sanity. You know the things, dinner with friends, going out dancing till your feet hurt and...well, dating. I am still very much a novice in the latter department but I am learning through trial and error!

I am trying to hold all the above things in balance and realise that I miss out on stopping long enough to reflect and collate my thoughts. I miss writing on this blog. I am really going to try to find more time for it.

P.S. a year ago today I wrote this post, so so glad I am living in happier times. Here comes 28!

Cool Girls Spin Vinyl

And in my endless pursuit of being a 'cool girl', I scored some charity shop records today. I dusted off the record player that was left here when I moved in, sat back and listened to the warm crackly songs. And smile.

I'm not a huge fan of designer labels. If my clothes ever do have big showy labels on them, I usually try and cut them off or conceal them. However, I was rather tickled today when I was admiring this cardi in a charity shop and discovered it was MaxMara, I looked over my shoulder suspiciously, crept my way over to the cash register and promptly purchased it before anyone else discovered it. I have dreams of teaming it with a grey pleated maxi skirt, a big chunky brown belt and a straw hat this summer.

The Runaways

Just watched The Runaways and am now desperately longing to own some leather trousers. Dakota Fanning and Kirsten Stewart made some very convincing rockers. Whilst It won't be making my top 50 movies of all time, it certainly is top ten in the somewhat niche category of 'Films about Self Destructive Young Females [who appreciate a Good Tune]'. Here are some of the titles that can be found in this unusual top ten [and the 'good tunes' that accompany them]:

+ Girl, Interrupted - Petula Clark/Downtown

+ Almost Famous - Elton John/Tiny dancer

+ La Vie en Rose - Edith Piaf/Non, je ne regrette rien

+ Virgin Suicides - Air/Moon Safari

.....The rest elude me....Suggestions please?

Here are some pretty colours from The Runaways.

blue

grey

pink