at the beginning.

i have to laugh. after a very rough morning with the kids, as i finished up in the shower, i thought to myself that i should start to write again. when i logged into my blog account i saw that the below post set as "draft."  i laugh because i wrote it about 1 year ago and haven't really taken action on it.  i did do a 30-day de-cluttering and we have improved our finances a bit (even though we now have a bass boat sitting in our driveway, and 2 new cars), so i guess not all is lost.  i guess my lesson for today is just to keep going. start where i am at...even if i cannot live today by this quote.  thank you universe.

"i wish i could give credit to whoever said this. wrote this. thought this. but for now i am taking this to heart and owning this...or at least trying to own it. this is the beginning.

i started writing this post by jotting down all the things that i felt were wrong or stressful about my life, but decided to stop focusing on the negatives. not that i wont have hard moments, or slip ups that set me back, but that i need to find the little ways i can make changes and not be so hard on myself.

improvement in diet. connection with my family. DECLUTTER/DECRAP-IFY my home (this is a big one, as i feel like i spend all my free time cleaning and putting away crap...tons of crap). improve finances.

reading now: the underground railroad
grateful for: jojo's kisses on my eye, bean helping carry in groceries, louie's snuggles"

reading now: before we were yours
grateful for: daycare so that i can have a little down-time

not so beautiful.

I have to laugh.  The universe has a very funny way of messing with your plans.  This morning was one of those moments. 

I went to NYC for the past few days with a dear friend of mine and my cousin.  While there we there we went to see Beautiful.  It is a play on Broadway about Carole King's life.  I love King's music and how I didn't know this play existed is beyond me.  It was fabulous, amazing, and beautiful.  Her life was just incredible.  The tile of the play is based on of one of her songs "Beautiful."  It really struck a cord with me.  As I listened to it on the drive home, I thought to myself...this is how I am going to try to start my day every morning..."You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face, And show the world all the love in your heart." 

This is not how I woke up this morning.

What there was on my face this morning was anger.  Anger at my children.  Anger at my husband.  Anger at myself.  Lack of sleep, a spilled drink all over the mattress, cat vomit on the floor, and much defiance over clothes/shoes/diapers/breakfast.  And it all began at 545am. 

It deeply upsets me when the day starts out this way for my family.  I struggle with getting mad and angry with the kids.  I am left with a feeling of deep regret when I yell.  I know it is normal and that it happens to everyone, but it is still hard.  I really try to work towards peaceful parenting and not letting myself escalate when shit hits the fan, but sometimes shit really does hit the fan....then splatter everywhere, ricochet, and deeply embed itself into every nook and cranny.

There is always tomorrow.  

my body. foreign territory.

 unrolled.

 Olivia stretched out

I turned 33 two days ago and all I keep thinking about is something my cousin said to me about the 33rd year begin a special one.  Not sure if there is something magical or mystical about 33, but I am going to run with it anyway and use it as an excuse to get my butt in gear and make some changes.

This past year has been one of many transitions and changes...most good, some uncomfortable and not so fabulous.  My family moved from our home in RI, where we were finally building a community, to western NY.  From the "hustle and bustle" of city-ish life, to a quiet town in the woods.  I started a new job, the kids a new school, and my husband a new position with a total new skill set.  We moved into a new house and cultivated a home. 

Now that we are settled, I have been thinking a lot about what is important to me.  I have a little more time with myself and my family since we moved here, and I have been wanting to motivate towards things that have seemed out of reach for the past few years....most specifically my yoga practice and all that it brings with it.

When I was in midwifery school I became part of the Ashtanga yoga community.  Introduced by a dear friend and teacher, this practice sucked me in.  The repetition, consistency, and community of it allowed me to flourish in it's environment.  The very early morning, 6 day a week practice in the shala wooed my heart.  A 2 month trip to India fueling the fire.  However, after graduation, moving, and starting a new job as a midwife, my practice very quickly disappeared.  I had no motivation to practice on my own, no shala to call my home, no community....and I withered.  I could not and did not get to my mat.  It stayed rolled up in my closet, forgotten. 

Today, I got back on my mat.  I have to say it was a bit of a disaster.  The fluidity, flexibility, strength, and calmness of mind that I remember from my practice was almost non-existent.  Stress, 2 pregnancies and births, and no practice for 6 years, has left me feeling like a stranger in my body.  I almost don't know what to do or how to move.  I am scared.  Scared that I will slink away from the practice in fear.  Fear that my body cannot/will not move as it used to.  Fear that without a yoga community I will loose motivation.  Fear that I won't stick with it.  To be honest, I am not sure that I can do this.

What I do know is that I want my practice back.  I am going to have to learn that perfection is not going to happen...and I have to be ok with that.  I may have to reach out to fellow Ashtangis scattered around the country.  I may have to learn to be ok with myself where I am.  I have to create my own space to grow in.  I am not going to set any bars or standards, no lists of what I want to accomplish; only a daily, conscious effort to move forward.  Slowly as it may be.

 my silly lady who always makes me laugh

"single mama"

This week Mark is away on business and I am doing the "single" parent thing.  Not truly single parenting, as I was able to change my schedule so I don't have to work during the week and have daycare/Montessori where the kids go so I can get some work around the house done and errands completed.  This is what I have come to realize after the first 3 days...

1. I love my children, but they are exhausting

2. It is really hard to not have a partner to support you and back you up, especially when both kids are crying, the dog shit on the floor, and the pasta is boiling over

3. Shaving your legs is over-rated...though itchy

4. My daughter really misses her dad and is definitely "off her game"...even though when he is here she will resist his kisses and refuse to let him put her to bed

5. I have no idea how anyone is a single parent without significant family and social support.  There is no way I would have been able to go to work and do my job if I didnt have anyone to help...for free.

6. Pets SUCK when you are the only adult.  Walking the dogs in the AM and PM is quiet the ordeal, especially when Oscar takes FOREVER to poop.  Thank god I can pen the kids up in the kitchen and can keep my eye on them while I walk the dogs in the backyard.

7. Bedtime is even more awesome.  Thank god for a margarita, a good book and my fireplace.

Much respect to single mamas and papas!

Much love!

friendship

I am an introvert.  I know this about myself.  I would rather sit on the couch with a book than go out to a party.  I am shy in new places, with new people.  I find small talk exhausting.

I have been thinking a lot about friendship since moving.  I do much better face-to-face, and one-on-one...which makes it very hard since moving away from my dearest friends. Talking on the phone is not ideal.  I want to see the person, connect with them, touch them.  Distance is hard.

I was struck this week when my friend had her baby with how deeply this moved me.  I was caught off guard at how emotional it was.  I couldn't be there physically, but all of my energy was with her.  The power of becoming a family.  The power of labor and birth.  The power of motherhood.  It was almost a visceral reaction that I wasn't prepared to experience.  Is it because I am a midwife?  A woman?  Or, is it the invisible threads of friendship that know no distance?  My heart is full.    

Below some pictures from the week.  We took the kids to Tanglewood Nature Center.  We all had a blast looking at all the animals...and even got a private tour of the birds of prey that had been moved inside due to cold weather.

end of a year

This year no lofty resolutions to change my life.  Only try to enjoy the moment, find the beauty, and enjoy the ride.

To last year's wonderful moments...

A buoyancy

The past few days have been positive and healthy in many ways.  Sometimes I feel like when it rains it pours, but also that when it is sunny it is a beautiful blinding light as well.

I received a small, but BIG, package from my dear cousin.  Upon hearing about how sick the family has been she "brewed" me up some natural oils to help scare the plague away from our house.  The cough blend has been great to help with the hacking cough the kids have, especially in combination with the Breathe oils in the humidifier (not pictured here).  While I am hopeful that the flu has taken its last Maloney victim, I have been putting the Flu Shot in a Bottle on the kids feet at night to boost immunity (as directed:).  I have at times dabbled in oils, specifically lavender for relaxation and eucalyptus for stuffiness, but have not really invested much thought in it.  My cousin swears by them, causing me to start my mind churning about using them more.  My scientific mind wants to research their efficacy and be all nerdy about it...we will see if my energy can rise to meet the occasion.  Either way, they aren't hurting anything and it leaves the kids smelling great:)

My best friend came to visit me over the weekend from Philadelphia.  She and I went to nursing and midwifery school together, and shared many of our waking hours locked in conversation.  After she left on Monday, I was filled with a buoyancy that is difficult to describe.  I processed through this with my therapist the other night, wondering how such a short visit with this wonderful woman could make me feel lighter.  Yes she is my best friend, that is a given and obvious answer, but there just seems to be so much more.  Her love, honesty and rawness touches me so deeply.  She makes me tap into my alternative, non-mainstream, hippy self.  There is a comfort, where things do not always need explanation or words.  We get to dream and scheme of working together, thrift store shopping, and changing the world.  She just gets me.  And I love her for it.

My husband is entering into the world of home-brewing.  Yep, he has moved onto brewing his own beer.  Let me take this moment to say that my husband, very much like my father, never does anything half-ass.  When he gets interested in something, whether it be guitars, cigars, politics, or now brewing, he learns EVERYTHING there is to know.  I have to laugh in the AM, when I pull out the computer and see his most recent search on google.  This morning it was "dry hopping".  His enthusiasm makes me giggle.

I read this article the other day on cultural concepts that don't exist in the US.  It made me wonder if we have anything like this in the US.  Not sure that we do.  I have copied the link below if you are interested in reading.

What I am reading now: Boston Girl

http://cdn-origin.mnn.com/lifestyle/arts-culture/blogs/7-cultural-concepts-we-dont-have-in-the-us