my love

When I think about the love I feel for my children I get choked up. My heart can't help but swell so tight the overflow comes out from my eyes. I would be lost without them. I wouldn't know what true love is.

And this is the hard part.

I try to imagine what they will be like when they grow up and what I will be like when I grow up. I pray that they will make right decisions and good choices. I want their mistakes to be few and inconsequential. I want their lifestyles to be vibrant and rich and full. I don't want them to have to struggle through tough times and heartbreaks. I want to know that they will be safe, always, and completely loved. I want to put them in a bubble. I want to freeze time.

But I can't know or do any of this. I can love them and teach them and train them the best that I can and that's all. My prayers will be offered and my songs sung over them. But life will whisk them away and the only thing left will be our heartstrings and memories.

As they grow and I watch them fall, I will grieve. There is nothing that would make my heart stop loving them. Nothing. Not even for a moment. These are my babies, my gifts, my angels. I will ache when I know they hurt. When they distance themselves from me, I will hurt. I will wonder if I missed something along the way- didn't seize a moment? missed a life lesson? forgot to tell them how much I love them? Because I am human, I will internalize and feel guilt when their life doesn't go the way I had dreamed.

I hope I will be able to gracefully let go. I hope that they will never be afraid of me. I want them near me always and even closer emotionally. I want honesty and openness and acceptance and security to flow back and forth.

My precious ones. Pieces of my heart taken without reservation or choice and walking around in this world. I am amazed by their beauty and intellect. I am overwhelmed by their drama and noise. I love their innocence and creativity and energy.

My babies.

summertime

The heat is rolling in earlier and earlier. My six a.m. walks are becoming increasingly more miserable as the thick blanket of humid heat silently descends, making me sweat and smell. I try to tell myself it will help me flush the toxins and yuck and that my sweatiness is a good sign that my metabolism is kicking up a notch.
But to be honest, I hate the heat. I don't like that by evening I have a headache from squinting all day. It's ten o'clock on a Sunday morning and I don't want to leave my house because it's already 85.

I wish it could be spring all year- or go from spring to fall and then back to spring. Extreme weather is just not for me- especially the heat.

On a brighter note, I harvested tomatoes this morning. I hated doing it since they are from the fireman's beloved plants and he is away, but I don't want to risk the squirrels taking off with them. I got about 10 red currant tomatoes, one yellow pear, and two Cherokee Purples. Now what shall I do with them?

The fireman is working 4 days, back to back. That means in 4 days he has worked 96 hours. That also means that I have been a single mom for 96 hours straight. Thankfully, I have had some company here and there and for that, my children should be very grateful. I am just so tired today and wish I could crawl in to bed and be alone.

I was trying to think of when was the last time I did something alone for me. I will occasionally run to the grocery store alone or pick up a birthday gift for someone. But for me to take off and do whatever I want just doesn't happen. I wish I could have a few hours a week to just sit and stare at the walls- not cleaning or doing laundry. Just sit in peace. I feel bombarded and emptied out. I am spent.

I will close for now. I have so much rolling around in my head I don't even know where to begin. I need to process things, but can't really pull my thoughts together enough to form thoughts or opinions. So instead, I am going to load the kids into the 400 degree car and go for a ride.

freegan followup

So here's the scoop.
We got nothin'.

I can't tell you what a weird excitement I felt all day. I was actually giddy about jumping in to garbage. And then it was such a let down! I didn't cry or anything, but I admit that I felt mildly depressed for a couple of days.
In my craziness I pictured us bringing home more food than we could possibly consume as a family. So much that I could share it with others.
We met up at my house, decked out in camouflage and rubber gloves. I brought along Lysol and wipes. We brought lots of plastic bags and a big stick with a hook on it in hopes it would save us from actually having to jump in to the dumpsters to just shift bags around. We headed straight for Whole Foods. As with all the major grocery store chains, we found that their dumpster actually backs in to their building. Whole Foods does compost all fresh produce and donates left over bread and expired canned goods (that's the good news). So from there we hit restaurant dumpsters and a few small bakeries and grocery chains.
The youngest (and most limber) of our threesome did most of the actual "diving". (If and when we do this again, she is totally on our team again!) Our fearless friend would just hop on in if there was even a hint of buried treasure. I would try to hold up the occasional lid and direct her to promising-looking bags.
We got away with very little mishap, except for a small cut and singed nose hairs. We were offered dinner by a mildly attractive male- which came to nothing since we lamely explained it was a sorority dare.
In the end, we hit close to 25 dumpsters and spent probably $1000 in gas. Our "big score" were three teeny-weeny snack bags of Keebler Pecan Sandies- the 100 calorie diet ones for goodness sake. And they were our of date. As darkness fell we began to feel desperate... so when we found a dumpster full of boxes, we took some. Boxes. Yes, boxes. I guess I can organize some closets or something.

Although the bounty of the evening turned out to be non-existent, it was surprisingly super fun. We laughed a ton and cried together as the disgusting stench hit our nostrils. It is amazing to think that people do this, not as an experiment or adrenaline rush, but out of necessity. As the night wore on and our spirits took a dive, two of us began to complain a little. I was totally hit head on when our third friend quietly said, "hey, if we were homeless and hungry we would be ecstatic about these three little bags of cookies." At that moment I felt a wave of gratitude that my existence didn't depend on regular trash digging. And you know what else? I was also hit with the realization of how many friends I have. I had many phone calls from concerned friends leading up to the evening of scavenging. Were times really this hard? Did I truly need to trash dig to provide food for our kids? Did I need money? I tried to explain that it wasn't out of need, but out of concern for all the needless waste going in to our earth. But that night, as I thought about how thankful I was, I thought of all my friends who would step in in a moment if my motive shifted and we became hungry.
So I take it back. The evening was not bounty-less. Actually, it was overflowing with gratitude and friendship and adventure.
Would I do it again? Absolutely.

freegan

have I mentioned how much I love recycling? I mean, it is so cool to get super cool stuff for free or next to nothing. I love to thrift store shop and garage sale. My neighbor makes fun of me when he hears I dug something out of the trash or picked it up off the curb. Hey, it's one less thing in the landfill.
So I am beginning a new adventure this week. I have to be honest, I am a little nervous. But times are hard and desperate times... well, you know. So tomorrow night I will become a freegan. I don't know if this is the beginning of a weekly ritual or just a one time deal. Either way, I am going with two girlfriends and we are hoping to score big- and praying for safety and zero smackdown.
It makes me excited to think I could find free food- good food, for nothing. Well, not nothing. I think at first it will be a weird pride thing if I get caught and in trouble for digging in someone's dumpster. But it will also be a sweet rush of adrenaline. And a fun memory too.

I am sure I will write about it, either way. And as to my neighbor... I will try to sneak a bit of dumpster food in to our next dinner together- just to weird him out.