...and I'm spent...

Oh man, I have nothing to write tonight. But I promised myself that I would write an entry every weekday, and it's not Saturday or Sunday...therefore...

Things have started ramping up for The Beckoning of Lovely. I've been emailing the Secretary of Slate (sort of VP of operations) all day, and we're doing this great thing where each email inspires new ideas that inspires another email that inspires new ideas. It's very exciting! I'm a little terrified of the prospect of managing twenty-something other people...but it'll be OK. I just have to not think about it and jump. It's going to be great. Oddly (for me) I honestly mean that and am not just trying to make myself feel better.

Little Bear is teething. He's been feeling his lower gums with his tongue all evening. And now he's asleep on my lap. This could pose a problem. I still need to brush my teeth, but the one time I put him down to go do that he started crying before I even tore off the piece of dental floss! My teeth are in a precarious state right now...I can't afford to not brush them! AGH! Please think happy not-having-to-sleep-sitting-up thoughts for me!

I will try to write a proper post over the weekend -this one really doesn't count. Plus I have an idea for one, but I just can't write it tonight. I'm spent.

Nighty night!

To-do list

A friend of mine wrote to me today:
"I'm considering coming up with life goals. The problem is that sometimes they're so long term as to be kind of overwhelming."
and I was reminded of a list I made in 2007 a couple of months before I got pregnant with Little Bear -things like "Go apple-picking, Try playing Dance Dance Revolution, Go out and try a martini" and bigger things like "Become a published author, be a mom, travel through Europe, take yoga teacher training."

I've decided that my activity for tonight will be to start a new list, since I have no idea where that old one is, and even if I found it I'm sure half the stuff would no longer be on my radar. So here goes:

-become a published author
-learn to use the slow-cooker we got for Christmas
-knit another sweater
-sew a doll or stuffed animal
-sleep through the night again
-curl up on the sofa with a glass of wine and a book
-travel through Europe
-own a house
-stay in a cottage in Cape Breton for longer than one night
-paint something beautiful
-learn to bake bread and make pie crusts
-attend a workshop with SARK
-attend a workshop with Gabrielle Roth
-practice meditation
-visit New York with Papa Bear
-pick strawberries
-eat at a 5-star restaurant
-try pottery-throwing
-play frisbee
-build a tree house
-take a train across Canada again (that was AMAZING)
-parent with awareness
-do something to make the world a better place
-enjoy every minute

I could continue -and probably will- but I'm exhausted and need sleep...I think Little Bear is teething.

Soul food...

There's a wonderful post in the Personal Growth section of the MDC forum called "What feeds your soul?" The person who posted it is working on figuring out what she wants to do with her life, and her therapist gave her this question to think about for homework.
How wonderful a question is that? And why did none of the career counsellors/regular counsellors I saw while I was a student ask me that?

It's so easy to get bogged down in the practical. Working within the bounds of "common sense" we see a limited horizon, a finite set of possible futures/careers/life paths. Anything else tends to be labelled "unrealistic" and shunted to the side. But what if we chose magic over practicality? What if we found what we loved and did it regardless of how "sensible" it is? People do it every single day. Some people do it and are wildly successful in spite of "common sense." How amazing is that?

It's hard to do when there are bills to pay, financial security to worry about. But I think we all need to take some time now and then and pay attention to what moves us, what makes us sense the magnificence of this life, of ourselves. What feels like playing? What makes us so happy that we don't realize we're working? I felt that yesterday and today, for the first time in a long time, when I was rewriting my story. It didn't feel like work, it wasn't hard -it just came out. It was like playing. And I am so happy with the result. I wasn't expecting that. I was supposed to be a dancer, not a writer...or so I thought until recently. Very interesting...

Anyway, if you're on MDC take a minute and go check out that thread. It's a good one.

TaDa! Organization!

We finally uploaded our digital photos to a computer, and I can therefore fulfill my promise of showing off our organizational goodness. Just be glad you can't see Papa Bear's office, because that's where all the mess went :-P

OK, here is our newly shortened entertainment centre, our new TV, and our Papa-Bear's-back-killing bookshelves:
And here is Little Bear's bookshelf and change table, formerly known as "Wow, we have way too many DVDs for this little bookshelf!" (the bins at the bottom have all of his baby quilts/blankets in them). Diaper pail on the left, laundry basket on the right:

Here is Little Bear's play area, with my steamer-trunk-turned-toy-chest. That huge teddy bear is named Grizzle, aka Big Maskwa:

And finally, here is the star of the show, Little Bear himself!

GAH! Damn copyrights!

*sigh*
Last night I was seized by a sudden inspiration and I wrote a children's story (apparently the medium in which I write best and most efficiently is turquoise marker...who knew!). I already know some changes I want to make in it, but I like the basic structure and I am particularly enamoured of my main character. Sadly, I find that I can't use the name I wanted if I ever want to try to get this published. Know why? Because the main character's name was (is at the moment) Little Bear, and someone already used that. If I had an older kid who watched Treehouse I would have known that earlier, but at 5 months old my Little Bear doesn't watch any TV besides my Chef at Home and Battlestar Galactica, and certainly not kids' TV. But I had this funny feeling, so I Googled it, and voila!

Anywho, there it is, time to find a new name. Ah well.

In other news, I have been giving a lot of thought to my Future and What I Want to Do. Motherhood has given me a whole new outlook on this one -mostly because I've realized that I don't, in fact, want to dance, teach dance, or do anything dance-related except possibly write about dance for a living. This is a Big Deal for someone who used to think "If I'm not a member of ABT by the time I'm 19 I might as well kill myself" and subsequently tortured herself relentlessly for giving up her dance training.

It's an interesting feeling being able to finally let that go. It's like I'm standing at this huge crossroads with a dozen possible routes in front of me, and suddenly I know that I don't want to take route A, B, or C. I still don't know which route I will take, but I know for sure that it won't be any of those. This is interesting, because this time last year I was teaching my second term of DansKinetics with my own website, brochures, business plan, etc. This is annoying, because people are expecting me to teach those classes again -I keep getting calls from new clients who see my brochures (of course, now that I'm not doing it). But I can't help it...I don't wanna. I thought I was "following my bliss" when I tried that, but I think maybe I had it wrong. I'm so glad I gave it a solid try though (and I reserve the right to change my mind, although I don't think I will).

Another route that I know I won't be taking is the Masters degree in French route. I didn't think I wanted to, but it wasn't until my former honours advisor mentioned it as a possibility that I knew for sure (and not just because doing that with a 5.5 month old attached son would be pretty frigging hard). I was great at school -I mean fantastic- but I'm so not interested. This is yet another Big Deal.

Sorry this is such a rambly, unentertaining post. I've just had this on my mind for a while now. I feel guilty for thinking about it as much as I have -I guess I feel like I should be totally and wholly focused on being Little Bear's mom and should blog about that. But no, that wasn't the point of starting this blog...this blog is the "keep Mama Bear sane by reminding her she's still a person" blog, isn't it?

OK, not feeling so guilty anymore.

Next time on The Adventures of Mama Bear: Remember how I promised to post photos of our newly-organized living room and then didn't? All that is about to change!

Hmm...

Haikus:

Sitting in the dark
Sleeping Bear lies by my side
Others party on.

Trying not to be
Depressed because I chose to
Stay in here with him.

There's a Battlestar Galactica fete going on in my living room, but since LB isn't much of one for sleeping away from Mommy, and since staying up to watch BSG at 11 would make me totally useless tomorrow, here I am in bed in the dark. Trying very hard to be a grown up since I DID choose to be here, but it's tough. Ah well.

That's all. More creative fun next time, I promise.
Nighty night!

Creative Writing at its finest...

At no point are my creative juices so stirred as at the moment when I am replying to Kindly Parenting Emails from my various and sundry Kindly Mother Figures.

No, seriously.

Think about it...each response must conjure up all of the following: gratitude for the concern/advice/questions, a sense that I have done my research and know what I'm talking about, and the feeling that I'm confident of my choices and happy in my current role as Mommy-first.

And at the same time this same response needs to avoid the following: making the reader feel like I'm telling them to mind their own business, making them think that I'm a) miserable b) insane c) requiring excessive amounts of pity for any other reason, inspiring them to offer parenting advice (unless I, you know, want it).

It's a delicate process requiring finesse, subtlety, and I-can't-think-of-another-synonym-for-taking-great-pains. When I write these emails my senses are finely tuned to nuance, innuendo (no, not that kind), an any possible misinterpretation/argument so I can circumvent it preemptively. See? After an hour of writing these emails my powers are so highly attuned that I'm using words like "circumvent" and "preemptive"!

Papa Bear thinks I take too much time making sure no one thinks I'm making a mistake. He thinks I should just live my life and who cares what other people think. I don't roll like that. I wish I did, because it would save me a lot of painstaking email-writing. But then again, how else am I going to hone my skills?

To Whom It May Concern...

Dear universe,

I would like to earn a living while staying at home with my baby.
My talents include:
writing coherently
researching obsessively
understanding movement
colouring inside the lines
dreaming outside the lines

Any assistance you could give me in this matter would be very much appreciated. I'll keep on the lookout for a sign.

Thank you in advance,

Meg (Mama Bear)

PS: Thank you for Papa Bear, Little Bear, the kitties, my friends and family, a nice place to live, good food to eat, good health, and the ability to lead an inspired life (I know it's always there, even if I often forget about it).

Inauguration Day Salad

Some days I get inspired in the kitchen. Today was one of those days, possibly due to our family trip to the gourmet supermarket this morning. Here's the salad I made for supper (to go with stuffed pork chops):

Mixed spinach and romaine hearts
Sweet onion, chopped
Button mushrooms, sliced
Dried cherries
Grated Irish cheddar cheese (regular cheddar would work, but Irish cheddar is sweeter and has a nutty flavour that is amazing with dried cherries)
Pecans

Top with:
Olive oil
Salt & Pepper
Red wine vinegar (just a little bit)

It was SO GOOD, and a great meal to kick off what will hopefully be a wonderful 4 years!

Thank you, universe

*does a happy dance*
Just heard from the wonderful Amy-Beckoning-of-Lovely! She says:

Hello Meg,

Thank you for your desire to be part of the "Beckoning of Lovely". . . so glad that you want to join this expanding project of all things lovely.( . . .) I would like to officially offer you the top position in what will be called our "Department of Immense" as the Secretary of Immense.

*does another happy dance*

She doesn't know what my department will be doing, and that terrifies me, but it's good for me to leap into the unknown now and then. So I did. I couldn't not do it.

The other day I wrote a submission to The Beckoning of Lovely, which I was going to submit tomorrow (the deadline) if I didn't hear back about my application. I don't feel right submitting and being on the team, so I will post it here. Enjoy!

Someday
we'll look back
on this brief
Eternity
and wonder
how we missed
the Magic
right in front of us.

*****

TO DO LIST:
Dream vibrantly
Dance wildly
Sing loudly
Eat indulgently
Nap luxuriously
Laugh uproariously
Write courageously
Speak confidently
Love intensely
Live joyfully.

A quick post...

...because it's past my bedtime, as sad as that is.

Here is the latest addition to my collection of poems about Isadora Duncan. Please be nice to me, as it's a work in progress, and I haven't shared my poetry with anyone in years.

On Marriage

I'll have none of your
Modern-day prudery.
No man will ever
Bind me to him
With a golden ring;
Odious slavery.

I'll be no man's chattel.


It's funny that I wrote this, seeing as I'm married and always wanted to be. Isadora? Not so much. She actually wrote that the idea of getting married "for the sake of your children" was ridiculous because if a woman didn't trust a man to provide for her and their kids without being legally bound to do so, maybe she would be better off without him.

OK, now it really IS past my bedtime!
Goodnight!

Lovely...and burbles

This weekend Amy K. is contacting the people she's considering for the Beckoning of Lovely team, and I am waiting less-than-patiently and less-than-hopefully. My inner critic keeps going "Well, of course she's not going to pick you. You're not cool/artsy/talented/real/awesome/creative/lovely enough!" Stupid inner critic. SARK talks about inviting your inner critics around for tea, but I would rather give them a firm kick in the nether-regions!

I did no writing today, as usual. Sometimes I wish I had one of those portable tape recorders so I could capture the ideas and words that dance through my head just at the least convenient moments. If I could do that I swear I'd have 50 projects on the go! As it is I have a solid half-dozen on my laptop (they sit there mocking me with their not-done-ness) and several more in my head. Most of the head-only projects require intensive research before I can even think about writing them. My current favourite is a study of dancers writing about dance, specifically ballet and modern. I've only read a handful of books for that one -not nearly enough. Someday, I promise myself, I'll have time.

"Someday" is so elusive, isn't it? In my current vision of "someday" I sit at a desk in a beautiful home office. No one disturbs me as I write, and I remain perfectly focused and confident as I churn out impeccably polished prose. In reality I scrape together the odd half-hour while the baby naps, and generally type standing up with the boy in the Moby Wrap. He tends to wake up just when I get inspired. And even if I did have an office and completely free chunks of time, chances are that I would spend most of them doing things like posting on message boards and building the province's largest ball of rubber bands. I've read enough writer's blogs to know that that's how it works . We never get to that place where every element is perfect because, even if all the outside factors lined up, chances are that we would suddenly develop writers block or tendonitis and still not be able to write without difficulty.

I'm not whining about this, honest...I'm just shaking my head ruefully at the human condition.

Of old wounds, healing (or not), and looking back on the past...

Clearly an introspective sort of night, based on the post title...

I've been writing about my history tonight to someone who doesn't know me all that well. We're getting to know each other and she asked me about my dance background. So I started writing to her about the 13 years I spent with my first ballet teacher, and all of a sudden it wasn't reading like a "getting to know you" letter, it was reading like a journal entry, and not a happy one.

I like to think of myself as a reasonably healthy person when it comes to emotional stuff. Enough time has passed and I'm far enough away from the person I was in high school that it's easy for me to forget about or overlook. Which is funny, because don't our experiences -no matter how distant- make us who we are?

As I wrote the email I relived some experiences that I would rather not have remembered. I've referred to them in passing to my friends, but tonight I really felt them again. There was the feeling of being trapped, of hating myself for not being "strong enough" to handle "being a dancer," but feeling like it was the only thing I was meant to do -the ultimate rock and hard place scenario. I remember the feelings of hopelessness as the minutes ticked by every day and I didn't know when I would be allowed to leave the studio -but what did it matter, I would be back the next day whether I liked it or not.

I remember slapping myself across the face as hard as I could because my traitor eyes wouldn't stop crying. I remember anguished glances out the window wondering when my mom would get there...although when she did finally arrive it didn't matter because we weren't allowed to leave until the teacher said we could (my mom often waited for hours -my poor little brother was left home alone). I remember being screamed at, snapped at, degraded, and downtrodden, and when I cried I remember being told that I was oversensitive and that "this is the way the dance world is." And I had to be a dancer...only now that I look back I can't remember why I thought that or how I came to believe it when I had so many other, healthier interests that were going unexplored.

And even now, as I go through these memories, I can't help thinking "Shut up. Stop talking about it. No one wants to hear it. They've all heard it a million times. You can't use these experiences as an excuse for whatever issues you have now -get over it." But is that really true?

I was a victim of abuse. It may not have left physical scars, but it sure as hell left its mark on my mind and heart. I've been chugging along not thinking about it for a while now, but the feelings these memories have brought up makes me think that "not thinking about it" isn't necessarily the healthiest thing I can do.

Maybe it's time to stop. Maybe it's time to embrace these experiences as part of me and try to move forward without shutting that part of myself off. Is it possible to embrace being broken? We struggle so hard to feel whole...

I don't know what else to say tonight -this is just what's on my mind. I think maybe my search for self-expression is taking me back to a search for self -and this is just part of the process. Like I can't move forward until I accept that scared, broken, hopeless little girl back into my heart and claim her experiences as my own. *I* am *her* -or at least I was.

Thanks for listening.

Huh...I can't decide if today was good or bad...

Today was...umm...well....

It was better than yesterday (yesterday I got so mad I threw a box across the room. I am an excellent model of handling anger. My son will in no way grow up poorly adjusted because of my issues. *hangs head*). Parts of it could even be deemed excellent -like when we finally got Papa Bear the TV he's been whining about wanting for years. Only...well...I dunno. The TV is AMAZING and I'm not sorry we got it, but we didn't get any more cleaning done and I didn't get anything creative out of my system and...and...I don't know what my problem is, really...I don't think it's anything I just wrote...

About a week ago I applied to be part of the team making The Beckoning of Lovely. I haven't told ANYONE about it besides Papa Bear (I posted about the submission procedure on LJ, but afterward I found out she was recruiting team members). I so want to be part of this project -if not this one, then something like it. The world is full of people making these amazing, wonderful, beautiful things that fill others with joy. I want to do that. I have done that in my dance classes, but I would love to be able to create something that I could hold in my hands and show people. Also something that didn't require me to rent studio space, advertise, pay insurance, change out of my flannel pants, and be anywhere at the same time each week would be nice.

SARK, one of my favourite beautiful people, is presenting a writing workshop at Kripalu in May. I think I feel about this workshop the way that Papa Bear has been feeling about the TV...I want to go SO BAD, but I know it will probably never happen, and if it does happen it won't be for years and years. That makes me sad. Actually, that could have a lot to do with my melancholy/ambivalent mood today. I would love to get together with a group of people and play and be creative but I can't because when SARK is running her workshop in Massachussetts I will be at home with a 9.5-month-old. End of story.

Anyway, enough with the rambling. I'm just making myself depressed. I will end on the high note and say the following:
1. HDTV is amazing. And, instead of getting a bunch of Boy Movies, Papa Bear got the BBC Natural History Collection on Blu-Ray (Planet Earth plus 3 other specials) because he knew I wanted it. And it is absolutely the most stunningly beautiful thing I've ever seen. It's like you're there, only you have super-powered eyes. Unbelievable.

2. When we get our HDTV box we will also get a DVR, which means I will not have to choose between no sleep and missing BSG. Yay!

3. Today's purchase means that I don't have to worry about birthday presents for Papa Bear for at least this year and possibly next year as well. And that's convenient.

4. Even if I don't get chosen as a participant in the Beckoning of Lovely team, I came up with an entry that feels exactly right. I'm still working on the presentation, but the text is just what I wanted. So I can (hopefully) still be involved.

5. Although I can't go to the SARK workshop, I already have the book it's based on and if I put my mind to it I can do my own thing at home. It won't cost as much as tuition, travel, and lodging would. And that's something...

OK, now I feel this better. I officially deem today...."mostly good."

To kleen iz fun? Ya?

OK, I don't want this to be a "How I cleaned my house" blog, but since the entire living room looks like a hurricane hit it I'm having a hard time concentrating on anything else. This is mostly because Papa Bear threw his back out (WAY out) carrying the bookshelves we bought yesterday...and let's just say Mama Bear is doing the lion's share of this particular reorganization! This is complicated by the fact that Little Bear will only let me not-hold him for maybe 2o minutes at a time these days (today is worse than that). This includes times when Papa Bear is holding him, of course.

I have to say that I take a certain artistic pleasure in reorganizing things. What was cluttered and ugly becomes beautiful -that kind of thing. What was a trunk standing on end and supporting a houseplant becomes a home for the insane number of toys Little Bear has already amassed. What was a way-too-small DVD shelf is transformed into a combo-change-table-and-baby-book-shelf. What was a completely empty and useless rolling plastic dresser becomes just the right sized unit for the baby clothes we use all the time, and the bathtub Little Bear has outgrown holds his cloth diapers perfectly.

But of all the transformations in progress around here (and I say "in progress" because half our stuff is still strewn around, and it's the half that doesn't have a clear place to live) the biggest and most noticeable is our entertainment centre. For years we've had a GIANT pressboard entertainment centre -0ne of those ones with shelves and cupboards and a black cardboard background. It was covered in dust, stuffed full of CDs and DVDs, and it just attracted mess. Papa Bear hated it because it was a visible reminder of the fact that we still don't have a big flat-screen TV. I didn't realize I hated it until it was gone. So yesterday we went out to Zellers and bought two big bookshelves for our DVDs (yes, the shelves Papa Bear strained his back with. I would have helped him, but I was carrying 22lbs of dead weight aka a sleeping baby. My arms STILL hurt). We were going to completely throw out the entertainment centre and put the TV on an old coffee table in between the bookshelves, so when we got home we started ripping that thing apart!

The thing is, once we got everything out of it and took the top and the shelves off we thought, "Hey! That thing looks pretty good!" So, instead of trashing the WHOLE entertainment centre, we kept the bottom part where the TV rests and threw out the rest of it. It's actually pretty perfect, since this way we keep the hidden storage that was the best feature of the original piece. And Papa Bear is happy because now it can accomodate a big TV when/if we ever get one.

I know it's all hard to visualize, so I promise to post photos when the mess is cleared up...whenever that may be.

You wouldn't think that cleaning house would provide opportunities for creativity, but you would be wrong, apparently. Yesterday Papa Bear had a minor (and highly justified) freak-out because our apartment was (was? is) a complete sty. Apparently my daily "wash dishes, do laundry" routine isn't enough to keep the place livable -which makes sense because it doesn't allow for, say, garbage or bathrooms or compost or clutter or...you get the idea.

Anyway, he started cleaning and I freaked out a bit at him and then we talked and I got motivated. And when Little Bear was napping in my lap I took a notebook and started drawing up Grand Organizational Plans. It was fun, motivating, and -I think- creative. All good things. Now, the problem with Grand Organizational Plans is that they have to be put into action, and did you ever notice how things get waaaaay messier before they get cleaner? Welcome to this week. Possibly longer than this week because I have a 5-month old to deal with too...a 5-month old only-napping-on-Mummy-er.

Ah well, no one said creativity was easy.

Gotta cut this short -Little Bear is awake and wondering why I'm ignoring him.

Haikus are easy...refrigerator...

Last night as I was lying in bed wondering WHY THE HELL I WASN'T SLEEPING (Grrr) I started thinking about haikus. I vaguely remember being forced to write haikus in school...that whole 17 syllable total, 5/7/5 thing. Usually mine were about sunrises/sunsets/spring/autumn/insert your overdone poetic subject here. And then I remembered possibly the best t-shirt ever seen on YouTube (on Brotherhood 2.0, by some bizarre-not-really coincidence) that said:
Haikus are easy
But sometimes they make no sense
Refrigerator

And I started chuckling (albeit silently because even though *I* was up, Little Bear was not). Who was the genius who thought that up?? I love it! Anyway, then I thought I would try my hand at writing unpoetic haikus -just for a creative brain twister. So here they are:

Math can be quite fun
Addition is cool but not
Multiplication.

Little Bear sleeps on
My chest in his wrap. I am
Tired of standing.

Cat puke squishes up
Chilly between my poor toes.
Screw you, stupid cats!

Haikus really are
A lot of fun to write but
Are these poetry?

HEE! OK, that was even more fun than I thought it would be!

OK...for REAL this time!

Woah...where did December GO? I blink and it's gone. My father-in-law told me and Papa Bear that time would move faster when we had a kid, but I'm somehow still surprised by the rate at which this year is passing!

The new year blew in with a raging blizzard which almost snowed us into the cottages we were staying at with friends. We managed to get home on the 1st, but it was dicey -we drove through whiteout conditions and covered roads pretty much the entire way home!

So far I have to say that I'm enjoying 2009. There's a new feeling in the air -a movement, an energy that is a nice change after the stagnation and mental/emotional doldrums I was stuck in for the last couple months of 2008. Sometimes you need to hit bottom in order to bounce back and soar, I guess. Since January 1st I've been spending a lot of time online, but for once I've been exploring new sites and encountering new ideas. I'm very inspired!

Highlights of the past week's internet-exploring include the following:


Amy K's The Beckoning of Lovely project
What a wonderful way to explore all the beautiful things we create in this world!

Sabrina Ward Harrison's True Living Project
I hadn't visited her site in a couple of years, and I'd forgotten how astoundingly, mindblowingly beautiful and inspiring her work is.

The Vlog Brothers' Brotherhood 2.0.o.9 Project
I can understand if you think this one doesn't belong on the same list, but think about it...these guys have united thousands of people in a community that celebrates intelligence, education, and "decreasing WorldSuck" by contributing to charities around the world. And that, my friends, is inspiring.


It's people like these that make me want to shout and laugh and cry at how amazing humanity is and how beautiful life can be. They make me want to dig deep and find my own lovely, rainbow-hued soul and show it to the world. They remind me that even when my son is teething and my feet hurt and it's crappy out I can look around and still see the beauty of my world. And that, really, is what The Adventures of Mama Bear is all about.