Waking up before son, but not before sun- she can’t wake if she’s never slept.
It’s nice for the land and animals to catch what she touches before I do.
I go to welcome her a few times a year. I think I want it to be more; she always tells me she appreciates it when I appreciate her.
Just to hear the train whistle and the morning birds caw their way through a gossiping cluster, I sit awake in the middle of the week.
I need to get still so I can be better.
I need to breath deeper so I can locate patience.
I need to enter my conscious before I access my vocals.
People like fire for roasting hot dogs and marshmallows, they even like it for passion and direction. For motivation and drive.
Not for the flare in the eyes or the tone of the sound. Not when flames mean the lash and the scold. You end up burning your own feet.
So sun, I know you’re hot but can you help me cool my insides.
So son, I know you’re seven, but can you help me be five.
There were no fires there. There were no fires then.
The sight of the sky this morning was a visual that jumped on my breath and rode a few of them away.
In awe but in my living room, I stood
my insides fluttering around this rising intensity.
It flopped right out of my eyes as gloss.
And out of my mouth as grin.
my son waved energetically and blew me a kiss back
as his bus was pulling away.
I was always able to have girlfriends if I wanted them.
I just remember them being meaner. Pickier. Gossiped a lot.
I was shy and didn’t care for that.
I kind of was a tom boy. Up until 8 years ago.
I disliked the colour pink and cried when my Mom made me wear frilly dresses to church.
Over the years I could tell I related better to the boys.
Yeah, it had the extra bonus of attention of the opposite sex, but I didn’t even think like that at the time. It really did make more sense for me to be around the ones that were more like me.
I’m not like the woman on the tv show ‘ The Bachelor’ who all the other ladies hate. No, no, no. By far not the case. I’m likable. I will say that girls have felt jealousy towards me- even my own two best friends ( who are still my best friends ( not jealous anymore though ) ) and that most of the time, I didn’t realize this was so until after the fact.
I feel more comfortable and at ease with a male.
But Not so much today. In fact, I am trying to branch out and get my feet better suited for female grounds. For I know in my next relationship I will only have female companions. That’s what I want.
So this swings back around to my desire to birth and raise a boy.
I feel like I understand them better. I’m more familiar and attuned to them.
They make more sense to me.
Having a girl actually scared me. I feel that I wouldn’t have been as good of a Mother, had I had a girl. Truly. I feel like I would have had less patience and been more mean.
Now I’ll be okay with having a girl.
I feel very very fortunate to have had the boy I so very much desired.
Thank you egg and sperm and timing and whatever else the heck makes up the sex of a child.
My music player had died in the night so I made a nice bed of softness and plugged it’s heart in.
While I waited for her to wake up, I did what only motivated got to do it now person woulda, and got out my computer and my mile long headphone string.
I danced and moved and zib zabbed in a diameter space of 6 feet.
I was deeply out of breath without the breaks of jogging down the driveway.
Music players heart had started beating at a good percentage so I got that on my head and got the steel wagon behind my arms and my son on top of it and jogged on the wet grass. Up hill and down hill. Then proceeded to kick around a kid soccer ball with him.
46 minutes of a higher intensity today. Yes.
I had plugged and pressed play and prilled up my April day.
A week ago a friend told me about a Church Easter Hunt,free pancakes,Service type a deal.
One week later I walked into that church having not told her I was going to go,with my son not knowing anyone.
Into the eating place, a boy from my sons school runs up. We sit with his mom and sisters.
I stand beside that Mom while the friend that invited me looks after the children in the nursery. My son and her son have interacted more with one another than we have. I feel at peace.
This is cool.
This is the socializing I would like to become more involved in. I am good at it. I like the confidence I can feel in knowing I am doing something that feels comfortable. Like my old self used to do with ease, with grace. With connection and soul and listening. I’m a pro.
Just over the years I started thinking too much.I was the minority for one thing, in the country of Thai Language, and then coming back here since I had lost a lot of my self over there, I couldn’t really stand on two feet conversing and feel good about it.
How many Moms’ out there don’t think you deserve your child?
I rarely brag about my son. I barely even talk about him with others.
When his teacher says stuff to you about him that you haven’t heard her say to any other mother, and you KNOW she means it,
it all clicks into place.
He’s beautiful. He’s loving. He’s emotional.
” He loves you.”
” You feel that connection with him, don’t you.” And you know that. You know he loves you.
And to think,
I was going to end my life because ‘it sucked’.
He deserves a Mom that loves life like he loves her.
And that’s ME.