Wrap your head with this material...

What I said to Magnus last night as I was putting him to bed: May the love in my heart be in your mind protecting your thoughts, making them kind May the love in my heart protect your body keeping you strong, healthy and mighty May the love in my heart live in your soul making you good, keeping you whole.

I knew a couple in high school who claimed to still be virgins because they were only having anal sex. Every time I see a picture of her posted on FB, that's what I think of. I think my child is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I stare and stare at him and I could kiss my own lips right off on that forehead of his. I also think he looks just like me. BUT, I do not look at myself in a mirror with an achy lovey heart and think how beautiful I am. My neighbors shoveled a line in the snow dividing our two lawns yesterday. They're so fucking bizarre. I quit my job. I'm getting my house in order. Literally and figuratively. And I even use literally correct in sentences. It should result in more writing. And skiing. And feeling more like myself again. Which is good because I kind of lost me in a deep pit of self-doubt. I'm climbing out now though. Which involves being very poor, and hopefully, very happy.

You ever just feel like you don't have anything interesting to say? Like the whimsy and clever are gone and you're just going through cobwebs? Like your life has taken a turn for the irritating if not mundane? Gray minutia. The good stuff is so good I don't know how to describe it. The curve of Magnus's mouth as he whispers his new consonent secrets. The kicking when he's excited. The giggles. Soooo good. But who wants to read about my vast love for my child and his every new move. (with the exception of this new screaming, shrieking noise he's making. T hat I could really live without.) Then there's the hard stuff. Adjusting to my mom living across the street and how busy life has gotten with her moving. She's had pneumonia lately, so that's been unpleasant. She's on the mend now but its a long road. There's the neighbors. Its horrible sharing walls with people who are violent. Who want to hurt each other. Who want to hurt you. Want bad ...

I was going to quit blogging but I suck at quitting stuff. I decided to quit, thinking I'd make some decisions about my professional life or possibly put some energy toward attempting to get paid for writing, but I didn't do either of those things. Also, I missed blogging. So hopefully someone will still read this because otherwise I'm just talking to myself in written form. Which is not all that far from crazy. So, you ready for a ramblingly, random post of shit-I-haven't-spouted-since-I-haven't-blogged-in-weeks? Good. Here we go. At a training recently, the girl sitting next to me also had a 7 month old. What're the odds? Anyway, at one point she said, "Can I ask you something personal?" I held my breath preparing for a very personal question. "Are you nursing?" Really? That's personal? Since when? Last I checked I'm the girl you tell that you keep a dildo in your glovebox and like to be called "bitch" during sex. I'm ...

I was having this beautiful moment with Magnus last night. I was rocking him to sleep, humming in his ear, and periodically kissing the fuzzy hairs that rub my chin when he relaxes against my chest. It was one of those moments that made me go "this is why people do this. its all worth it." The stitches, the new stitches, the stretch marks, the crying, the never sleeping all night again...all worth it. Then I realized what I was humming was this: Even when life is beautifully touching, its funny too. P.S. I love being a mommy and humming and talking gibberish and making faces and singing off key and dancing it out in the living room. Its rad. Hope you're rad today too.