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Wednesday, August 23, 2017

just sing, sing a song

Sing. Sing a song.
Sing out loud.
Sing out strong.
Sing of good things, not bad.
Sing of happy not sad.
Sing.
Sing a song.
Make it simple to last your whole life long.
Don't worry that it's not good enough for anyone else to hear.
Just sing. Sing a song.


I recently sang this to baby when he was in a mood, now he asks for it "LALALA?" pointing to my mouth. And it got me thinking...

Too much reflective posting lately, maybe?

I don't know. I have been so pent up this year I think. So little writing. So little creating. Just go go go. And now it is time. Release.

In any case, this little song made me think. You know, its not the big achievements. I am TURNING 41 SOON! Where is the book?? The grand achievements?? The big fat bank account?? Really. It is the little daily things though, that make a life. The daily ins and outs.

Singing your song. Your simple happy song.

That sounds so silly and simplified. I know. But, with me and my "grand plans" brain its hard to be a daily person. You know?

So, this week dada is working crazy hours. And we are still adjusting to back to school and country living (did I tell you about the dead rat in the wall????)

And this Monday I lost my cool. Over. And over. And over. Everyone was crying about 1) shoes, 2) lunches, and/or 3) juice boxes by the time we left for school. And then that night everyone was in tears about 1) friends 2) missing Minnesota and 3) iPad access [and 4) chocolate (ME)].

So. I literally said. "KIDS, dont let the baby die." And I turned my back on all of them to stand at the sink doing dishes for approximately 18 minutes. And I sang. This song. I am not a singer so I shouldnt have been surprised when baby came to stand next to me, looking up in wonder.

And you know what, singing this little song helped. I hear my girls humming it now, even little man (who, incidentally turns ELEVEN on Monday) And he says, we are learning that in ukulele class. (Yesssssssssss....ukulele class......) but we all think its stupid. And I was like. HEY. Sing your song Jack. Be you. That is what its about. What do you stand for? What is your thing? Not your vocation, or your plans in life, but who are you BECOMING??? Find that and BE THAT. (At which point I thought, this is a blog post in which I must further explore this idea.)

As with dreams. Dreams are great. Dreams are not real. Dreams of coffee farms never include rats in the walls or little tiny gnats that invade at dusk every night. Or coffee beetles.

Dreams propel us. They motivate us. But when we get there, to that "thing" we have been dreaming about, it is ESSENTIAL that we let go of those tightly grasped dreams, and experience the thing for what it is, in all its imperfect beauty. This is why motherhood can be so rough that first year. 2am feedings weren't part of the warm fuzzy dreams. Poop on your elbow. Endless worries. None of that. And eventually all new moms have to go through this transition. Some might do it in days, others battle it daily (yours truly.)

So yea. Singing your little song. What is your thing? Your daily joyful song to sing?

I am an empathizer. I see people. (We watched Avatar the other day..."I SEE YOU." Yes. THIS.) I value kindness. And the combination of these two things. Understanding where people are coming from and trying to be there for them. Building bridges. Something like this.

I don't get it right every day. But its my thing, to try at, you know?

So, stagnant manuscripts and coffee beetles and big dreams and plans etc. All those are by the way side. In the day to day, I can ask, as I scrub dishes with gusto as baby covers himself in mud outside with the big kids. AM I DOING MY THING? IN THIS MOMENT? Am I bringing kindness and empathy to this, lets face it, shitstorm of a world we battle in daily. Am I holding those things up for other people and saying, HEY LOOK. ITS A LITTLE SONG, BUT DAMMIT I AM GONNA SING IT MAYBE YOU SHOULD TOO. Or, at least find your own. And, whatever it is, truth, beauty, art, love, like my old neighbor who just took in her EIGHTH foster child. DO THAT THING. Sing it. Show it. Live it.

i love spending my mornings with this little guy.






ELEVEN....WAAAAAAHHHHH....

mango lassi. because i have MANGO TREES

i built a little armoire for myself out of cabinets pulled off the kitchen wall.
hey. it works!


lalalala he says. lalala mama.

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