Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Here's some love...


No matter what state your life is in, there is always love.

"Judge nothing, you will be happy.  Forgive everything, you will be happier.
Love everything, you will be happiest." - Sri Chinmoy

"...no blame, be kind, love everything - always." - Terrance Keenan








 

And you can always teach yourself the ukelele!


Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Letting others speak for me

It's not cos I'm being lazy, honest.  Still haven't gotten round to writing the blog posts I had planned, but here are a couple more quotes I'm trying to live by ~

"Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it." - Rumi

"As people who want to live a good, full, unrestricted, adventurous, real kind of life, there is a concrete instruction we can follow: see what is.  When you catch yourself grasping at beliefs or thoughts, just see what is." - Pema Chodron

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Expose yourself

"Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found."
~Pema Chodron

Saturday, February 04, 2012

This rocks



Sometimes, something manages to cut through all the clever sounding crap you tell yourself, and the illusion that wanting to be a better person than you are is enough to make you that person, and makes you shut up and listen to what's really going on.

That's all I wanna say right now.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

A month of letters

I read about this challenge and have decided to take part.  I've always loved writing letters and receiving them.  Even if people don't reply, I don't know anyone who doesn't appreciate receiving a handwritten letter or something personal in the post. So, here's a chance to get back into it again.  I think writing a good letter is as much an art as writing a good poem or story.  So, for almost every day for the month of February, I will be writing a letter and sending it to someone by snail mail.  I already have a list of people to write to (basically all my friends for whom I have a current postal address), but if you'd like to receive a letter, email me your address (heartfulblogger at hotmail dot co dot uk) and I'll add you to the list!

Do you fancy joining me?  I promise to reply to anyone who writes to me, even beyond the month of February.


Tuesday, January 24, 2012

What happens when you're busy making plans...

A yoga pose known as Upside Down Monkey

So yeah, those blog posts I had planned, still not written.  And not likely to be written anytime soon.  So in the meantime, I leave you with this gem ~

"Your task is not to seek for love,
but merely to seek and find all the barriers
within yourself that you have built against it." ~ Rumi


Monday, January 09, 2012

Hello

I've got a few posts brewing, but in the meantime, here's a little hello and Happy New Year to you all...



Inspired by Hokusai.

Saturday, December 31, 2011

New Year's Eve

If you're going to say anything at all about New Year's Eve, it's best to do it like this...the gorgeous Zooey Deschanel sings with Joseph Gordeon-Levitt...


Or, like this...



Whatever you're up to, remember this: lighten up, breathe, enjoy.

Monday, December 26, 2011

Fire, flames and invincible summers

A couple of weeks ago, I adopted Laura Veirs' song July Flame as a sort of personal anthem for the season.  Whilst the world around me seemed to be revelling in snow and jingle bell tunes, I had an unashamed longing for summer.  I really took the song to heart and found it a great comfort.  And then, inspired by the song, I made this...





I don't know what to call it.  It's round so maybe a mandala.  Or a solstice light catcher.  Or a paper cut.  Or all three.  Why not.

Since then I've also been stumbling across this quote by Albert Camus: "In the midst of winter I finally learned that there is within me an invincible summer."  The few times I did stumble across it, I read it and my heart sank.  My reaction was, "Oh, I wish."  I then had quite a hellish few days.  But, long story short, I came out through the other side and even found some contentment, some joy bubbling up out of nowhere.  That's for another post, but last night I remembered that Camus quote and thought - yes.  I found my invincible summer.

And then I saw that my friend over at Lickety Split posted this.  I love that poem.  I remember that it got me through some brutal fucking heartbreak about 10 or so years ago.  This is a photo I took during that time...




"what matters most is how well you walk through the fire." 

So there you go.  Walk well.  Mind how you go.  Happy Solstice.


Thursday, December 22, 2011

"The wisdom of no escape" or how a jam tart saved me


So you might have noticed that December has been a hard month for me.  It hasn't all been bad.  There have been ups as well as downs.  And those ups have been pretty good while they lasted.  But I thought they would help make the downs suck less.  They don't.  Having ups even gave me a false sense of security.  Just when I thought I was getting through the worst of things, just when I thought I'd already hit my low point and was now coming out the other side, something happened to wallop me and make me see that there's always somewhere lower I could fall to.  It made me remember that quote I blogged about a few weeks ago - "Abandon any hope of fruition."  Not because I was feeling particularly morose and hopeless (ok, I was) but because there is a truth to it.

It may seem contrary to all your survival instincts and it hurts like hell, but when you are at that point when you feel there is nothing left to hold onto, when you feel there is no choice but to let go, when grasping and resisting and holding on - to anything - is so painful, you have to stop, that is the point at which things can start to turn around.  And the hardest part: there's nothing you can do about it.  Whether you resist it or welcome it - you can't make it happen.  All you can do is be through it.  Just be - when each minute feels like an hour and each hour feels like a year and each breath feels futile.  Resisting makes it worse.  I don't know what welcoming it does because I've never been able to do that.  But I imagine it could make it worse too - like the anticipation of an eagerly awaited visitor who is delayed, and delayed some more and delayed some more and you go from being angry at them to wondering what's happened to them to fearing the worst, to trying to bargain with whatever force you might suddenly decide to believe in just to make things ok again, until you reach the point where you give up because they're not coming and you wonder what you've done to deserve this.  And then they show up.

But life goes on.  And they leave and may not show up again and the whole cycle begins anew.  The only thing you have control over is trying not to escape.  The only thing you can do is to be there, wherever there is.

One of my low points this month was when a batch of jam tarts failed.  Go ahead, laugh.  Yes, I cannot bake without swearing, but this was monumental.  Things didn't actually turn out alright in the end.  I was making them for a community centre fundraiser.  I'd spent two hours making the damn things from scratch.  But I made a mistake and that mistake made itself clear all over my beautifully rolled out pastry.  I overfilled the tarts.  When I pulled them out of the oven, it looked like there had been a jam explosion.  I lost it. Obviously it wasn't just about the tarts.  But they tipped me over the edge.  I behaved just like a two-year old and had an almighty tantrum.  Afterwards, the tarts were still ruined and nothing had changed.

Something happened to me then.  Something in me cut off.  I didn't notice it straight away, but when I woke up the next morning, I realised that I felt numb.  Like there was a glass wall between me and the world.  I didn't feel anger or pain anymore, instead I just felt nothing.  A dull nothing.  That distressed me, but even that sense of distress was dulled.  I hadn't felt, or not-felt, this way for a long time.  Something sank in me.  I remember that the last time this happened, it went on for weeks.  I tried to prepare myself for it, to prepare myself for having to live like this.  All the things that seemed important, all the things I'd hoped to do, hoped to achieve, it all went out the window.  I knew I wouldn't have the energy to even try.  I knew that trying - to do anything at all - but especially to make me feel better - would only make it worse. 

I was standing in my kitchen.  Some of the ruined jam tarts from yesterday were still on a plate on the counter in front of me.  I went to throw them away and noticed that one of them was a lemon curd one.  I'd really wanted to try them, I hadn't had lemon curd for years.  So I took a bite.  The pastry still had a crunch to it, but also a buttery softness.  The sweet tangy lemon burst on my tongue.  The combination of the pastry and the lemon curd was exquisite.  For a few moments I forgot about everything but those tastes on my tongue.  Then I looked up and noticed the blueness of the sky and the outlines of the starlings on the roof opposite.  The sound of their calls hit my ears like I'd never heard them before.  Then I noticed that the glass barrier was gone, the dullness had lifted.  I'd been pulled into the present moment by my senses.  Nothing special, just tastebuds.  But I could feel again.  And I felt very fortunate. 

Of course things weren't all fine after that.  I've been sobbing for the Olympics for much of this week.  And each time, I felt better after.  But that's not the end of it.  Of course it's not going to be all bad.  But things will never be all fine either.  The point is there is no real escape.  So maybe, if you can let go and manage to be present, be mindful, pay attention, wherever you happen to be, maybe you'll find that there is also joy.  Even in the midst of all the crap.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

The Spirit of Christmas



I've been wanting to write a post about the C-word for a while.  I'll 'fess up right now and say that it's a hard time of year for me and the things that usually help me through life's hard times just don't work.  (And that's code for, I become a miserable, morose grump.)  It happens every year but it always hits me as if it's brand new.  The fact that it happens in winter as well is just a happy coincidence.

Because my family is scattered between two continents and most of my closest, oldest friends are living in other countries, this time of year always emphasises and heightens the distance and aloneness that, at other times, I am able to tolerate and cope with.  The last two years have been unexpectedly bearable cos we had some lovely neighbours over on Christmas Day.  They were also far from their own families and we got on well.  But they moved away this year.  Plus, this is gonna be the first time trying to negotiate Christmas as a "broken family."  Even without that though, I think it is a hard time for a lot of people, for all kinds of reasons.  But there is a prevailing sense that you're not supposed to talk about that.  What you're supposed to do is put on your false cheer face and grin and bear it.  Otherwise people call you Scrooge or a Grinch or take delight in shouting Ba Humbug! at you.  And it's supposed to be funny.  Well it isn't.  And sometimes, even when I try my damndest, it don't help.  Today for instance, I actually woke up chirpy.  Yes, you heard right. I woke up positive and determined to make the most of things.  Then I took Jake to Sainsbury's.

Christmas is a whole 9 days away, and yet, people are out shopping like the apocalypse is coming.  Sainsbury’s on a Thursday morning is not normally rammed.  Today it was.  After managing to manoeuvre Jake in the buggy, laden with a basket and carrying a 20 litre bag of cat litter past ridiculously long checkout queues populated with the most sullen people on earth, I get to the relatively clear self-checkout area, and wait behind the person who is just finishing off their checking out.  I’m just about to plonk the massive bag of cat litter on the little shelf next to the check out I’m about to use when a woman holding three small (not 20, 10 or even 1 litre) bags of vegetables and who had just gotten in the queue behind me, plonks them there instead. 

“I know you’re ahead of me in the queue," she said, "I just want to put my stuff here.”


For the purposes of veracity, I'd just like to point out that she is no older than me, able-bodied and in possession of both her arms and all her digits.  Anyhooooo....

She then turns to my gobsmacked face, frowns and says, “What?  I’m not trying to cut ahead of you, I just want to put my stuff there.”

I said, “Yes, I was just wondering where I’m going to put MY stuff.”

“Well," she said, "all you had to do was say if you want to put your stuff there, why do you have to make that face?!” !!!!!!!

I surprised myself by saying, “Because I have feelings and don’t like being harassed.”

She then put her hands on her hips and said, “All I wanted to do was put my things there, you don’t have to make that face at me.”

I’m not a fan of confrontation.  Plus I was sweating and knackered and my arm was about to fall off from holding the fucking giant bag of cat litter.  I didn't have the energy for a pointless argument so I decided it would be easier to join another queue.  I started to do so and she actually HAD A GO AT ME!

“Hey, I told you I didn’t want to cut in front of you, I just wanted…”

So I snapped.  “Look, I don’t need this right now okay?  I have a child in a buggy and heavy shit to carry so please, go ahead, put your stuff there.  I’m going to join another queue.”

As soon as I did so, the bleedin’ woman grabbed her three bags of veg in a huff and buggered off.  

The moral of the story is, (cos don't Christmas stories always have to have a moral): Sometimes, even when you get what you want, you still ain't happy.  And that just about sums up Christmas.

There are 10 days to go till it's over.  Will there be a happier ending to this story?  Anything could happen, but don't hold your breath.  And let's not forget the delightful arse-twitchery of New Year's Eve to look forward to. 

If you were looking for something more warm and fuzzy, you can try the usual channels.  There's more than enough of that stuff out there.  <Ba Humbug>

Tuesday, December 06, 2011

December



You know when you're all cranky and ranting, say about Christmas, and what you really need is simple kindness and understanding, not advice, not patronising, not judgement?  Well I'm fortunate enough to have a friend like that in my life - who, upon hearing of my ranting crankiness, immediately wrote to me, understanding what was beneath it all and knowing exactly the right thing to say - sending me the kindness I didn't even know I was looking for.  Along with a link to this beautiful song and the exhortation that I am "stronger than December."  Thank you.  You know who you are.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

How to be out of your comfort zone

I've been going through some stuff lately that I'm sorry to be cryptic about, but it's safe to say that I'm so far out of my comfort zone I don't even know where it is anymore.  I feel like I'm walking around wide open and vulnerable, with my heart in my stomach and my stomach on the verge of spilling out of my mouth.  It's scary and it hurts but you know what, it's also thrilling and oddly right. Because shutting down and being closed off is worse.  It might feel less chaotic, you might even be more able to pass as a normal functioning member of society, but I'm not so interested in that these days. (And to those of you who've gingerly suggested that I try counselling - it's ok - I'm not gonna break if you're honest with me and it's ok, I'm already in counselling.)  Plus, I'm like maybe growing and shit?

So I alternate between grinning like a fool and wanting to curl up in a ball under my duvet, or wanting to go climb a mountain (or a wall) and wanting my Mum (you know, in between changing nappies, clearing out the litter tray, making jam tarts and generally being at the beck and call of a "tiny overlord").  I'm listening to music and poetry when I can, the latter of which consoles and terrifies me in almost equal measure.  Three times this week I picked up a book, read a poem and found myself in tears at the end - gut-wrenching, sobbing tears.  And when a friend hinted that I too might feel grief, I became indignant, took umbrage with being patronised, ranted and then realised she'd hit a nerve.  Oops.  But I'm here.  I'm trying not to escape, trying not to push the feelings away or bury them, which is what I usually do.

So how am I doing it?  Like a wriggly worm.  But here are some of my guides:

"Chaos should be regarded as extremely good news." (because it's an opportunity to wake up) - Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche

"Hold your beliefs lightly. ~ Sometimes our very human desire for meaning, can get in the way of having a good experience of the world." - Grayson Perry

(I'd go a little bit further and say that our very human desire for certainty can get in the way of having a true experience of the world, good or bad, happy or sad, painful or joyful - and it's never one or the other.)

The poems of Mary Oliver, in particular Wild Geese and In Blackwater Woods.  Plus Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye and many by Sharon Olds.

"Be grateful to everyone. ~ Others will always show you exactly where you are stuck.  They say or do something and you automatically get hooked into a familiar way of reacting - shutting down, speeding up, or getting all worked up.  When you react in the habitual way, with anger, greed, and so forth, it gives you a chance to see your patterns and work with them honestly and compassionately.  Without others provoking you, you remain ignorant of your painful habits and cannot train in transforming them into the path of awakening." - From the teachings of Pema Chodron

"Real security is not only being able to tolerate mystery, complexity, ambiguity, but hungering for them and only trusting a situation when they are present." - Eve Ensler from Insecure at Last.

And finally, laughter.  Cos you gotta have balance, even if most of the time, it feels like I'm falling off the beam.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

A return to poetry

In the midst of NaNoWriMo, I got a sudden urge to sit somewhere quiet and sunlit and immerse myself in poetry.  It's been awhile.  The urge has actually been there for a long time, but I've mostly ignored it.  Then, while listlessly trying to up my word count, the urge got a bit rude and said, "Stop fannying about with this bullshit and go read a poem NOW."  I listened.  And discovered this one.  It was like being welcomed home.

Tuesday, November 08, 2011

The ordinary made weird and wonderful

I didn't want to neglect you entirely during my Nano expedition (it's going slowly, thanks for asking), so I thought I'd post up some weird and wonderful things I've stumbled across in the last few days...

I just love this song, especially the lyrics. 

David Lynch takes dental hygiene to a whole new level in the track Strange and Unproductive Thinking.

Then there's this volunteer snake catcher in the rai. (If my very rusty and basic Thai is correct, I believe rai is the Thai word for a field.)

Did you know there are graphic short stories?  I didn't until today.  The stunning graphic short story, Love In A Very Cold Climate by Isabel Greenberg, just about melted my heart.  (If you click on the link, her story starts on page 115 of the slide show / insert.)

And this flash, stunning in an entirely different way, just about broke it.

Enjoy...

Wednesday, November 02, 2011

Join the insanity

Having written a post about being busy and letting several "projects" fall by the wayside, those of you who know me will not be surprised that I have since decided to do Nanowrimo this month.


Yes, trying to write a 50,000 word novel in one month is insane under any circumstances. Trying to do so whilst wrangling a pre-schooler and also somehow trying to have a life is going to lead to even more sleep deprivation.  Yay!!  Fancy joining me?

In order to keep the insanity at manageable levels, I'm adopting the attitude of "Let's just see what happens."  If I manage to make even half the expected word count, I'll be happy.

Wish me luck! 

Monday, October 24, 2011

"Abandon any hope of fruition"

I know I've been absent here lately.  Apologies.  I've also stopped writing small stones (I still don't know if this is a temporary hiatus or a more long-term one) and it appears I've also let my Stitch A Year project fall by the wayside.  But I have actually been writing, a lot.  On top of flashing here every week, I've also joined a local writer's group which has given me the incentive to edit all those weekly stories and even resurrect some poems I wrote years ago and had forgotten about.  I've also taken up a meditation practice which has sort of replaced the Stitch A Year project.  I just don't have the time to do it all and as ever, it's the truest things that remain. 

Alongside the meditation practice, I've been reading Pema Chodron's Start Where You Are.  The whole book is a revelation but the chapter entitled "Abandon any hope of fruition" is possibly the best thing I've ever read and I wanted to share it.  So I've pretty much typed out almost the whole chapter for you here:

"One of the most powerful teachings of the Buddhist tradition is that as long as you are wishing for things to change, they never will.  As long as you have an orientation toward the future, you can never just relax into what you already have or already are.

One of the deepest habitual patterns that we have is to feel that now is not good enough.  We think back to the past a lot, which maybe was better than now, or perhaps worse.  We also think ahead quite a bit to the future - which we  may fear - always holding out hope that it might be a little bit better than now.  Even if now is going really well ... nevertheless there's a deep tendency to think about how it's going to be later.  We don't quite give ourselves full credit for who are in the present.  ...

In one of the first teachings I ever heard, the teacher said, "I don't know why you came here, but I want to tell you right now that the basis of this whole teaching is that you're never going to get everything together."  I felt a little like he had just slapped me in the face...but I've always remembered it.  There isn't going to be some precious future time when all the loose ends will be tied up.  Even though it was shocking to me, it rang true.  One of the things that keeps us unhappy is this continual searching for pleasure or security, searching for a little more comfortable situation, either at the domestic level or at the spiritual level or at the level of mental peace.

Nowadays, people go to a lot of different places trying to find what they're looking for.  There are 12-step programs...there are a lot of support groups and different therapy groups.  Many people feel wounded and are looking for something to heal them.  To me it seems that at the root of healing, at the root of feeling like a fully adult person, is the premise that you're not going to try to make anything go away, that what you have is worth appreciating.  But this is hard to swallow if what you have is pain. 

In Boston there's a stress-reduction clinic run on Buddhist principles.  It was started by Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn, a Buddhist practitioner and author of Full Catastrophe Living.  He says that the basic premise of his clinic - to which many people come with a lot of pain - is to give up any hope of fruition.  Otherwise the treatment won't work.  If there's some sense of wanting to change yourself, then it comes from a place of feeling that you're not good enough.  It comes from agression toward yourself, dislike of your present mind, speech, or body; there's something about yourself that you feel is not good enough.  People come to the clinic with addictions, abuse issues or stress from work - all kinds of issues.  Yet this simple ingredient of giving up hope is the most important ingredient for developing sanity and healing.

That's the main thing.  As long as you're wanting to be thinner, smarter, more enlightened, less uptight, or whatever it might be, somehow you're always going to be approaching your problem with the very same logic that created it to begin with: you're not good enough.  That's why the habitual pattern never unwinds itself when you're trying to improve, because you go about it in exactly the same habitual style that caused all the pain to start.

There's a life-affirming teaching in Buddhism, which is that Buddha, which means "awake," is not someone you worship.  Buddha is not someone you aspire to; Buddha is not somebody that was born more than two thousand years ago and was smarter than you'll ever be.  Buddha is our inherent nature - our buddha nature - and what that means is that if you're going to grow up fully, the way that it happens is that you begin to connect with the intelligence that you already have.  It's not like some intelligence that's going to be transplanted into you.  If you're going to be fully mature, you will no longer be imprisoned in the childhood feeling that you always need to protect yourself or shield yourself because things are too harsh.  If you're going to be a grouwn-up - which I would define as being completely at home in your world no matter how difficult the situation - it's because you will allow something that's already in you to be nurtured.  You allow it to grow, you allow it to come out, instead of all the time shielding it and protecting it and keeping it buried.

Someone once told me, "When you feel afraid, that's 'fearful buddha.'"  That could be applied to whatever you feel.  Maybe anger is your thing.  You just go out of control and you see red, and the next thing you know you're yelling or throwing something or hitting someone.  At that time, begin to accept the fact that that's "enraged buddha."  If you feel jealous, that's "jealous buddha."  If you have indigestion, that's "buddha with heartburn."  If you're happy, "happy buddha"; if bored, "bored buddha."  In other words, anything that you can experience or think is worthy of compassion; anything you could think or feel is worthy of appreciation.   ... If one would enter into an unconditional relationship with oneself, one would be entering into an unconditional relationship with buddha.

This is why the slogan says, "Abandon any hope of fruition."  "Fruition" implies that at a future time you will feel good.  There is another word, which is open - to have an open heart and open mind.  This is oriented very much to the present.  If you enter into an unconditional relationship with yourself, that means sticking with the buddha right now on the spot as you find yourself. ...

Whether you get meditation instruction from the Theravada tradition or the Zen tradition or the Vajrayana tradition, the basic instruction is always about being awake in the present moment.  What they don't tell you is that the present moment can be you, this you about whom you sometimes don't feel very good.  That's what there is to wake up to.

When one of the emperors of China asked Bodhidharma (the Zen master who brought Zen from India to China) what enlightenment was, his answer was, "Lots of space, nothing holy."  Meditation is nothing holy.  Therefore there's nothing that you think or feel that somehow gets put in the category of "sin."  There's nothing that you can think or feel that gets put in the category of "wrong."  It's all good juicy stuff - the manure of waking up, the manure of achieving enlightenment, the art of living in the present moment."

~

So this is what I've been living with lately.  I hope it is of some help or comfort to you.  It is to me.

Monday, October 10, 2011

And today we made a giraffe



I tried to get Jake to stand next to it in the photo above, so you could have an idea of the size of it, but he wasn't interested.  It's about twice Jake's height though. 

Sunday, October 09, 2011

Why I love my boy

Not that I need to justify why I adore my little munchkin, but here are some reasons anyway!

~

The week before last, when we had beautiful Indian Summer weather, I was wearing a dress when I went to pick Jake up from his Dad's.  The first thing Jake said when he saw me?

"Oh!  I like your dress Mummy!  It's nice!  Is it new?  Where did you get it?  A shop?"

Three years old and ALREADY he knows how to talk to women?!

~

The other day, I was feeling particularly stressed.  I've been ill with a cold, tired, not sleeping that great and I'm going through the process of choosing a school for him. (Yes, SCHOOL!  When did he get so old???)  Anyway, I was trying to get dressed and got my arm caught at a funny angle in one of my sleeves.  Struggles and perhaps some cursing ensued which ended with me hurling the top onto the floor.

Jake got up from what he was doing, walked over to me and hugged my legs.  Then he gently and tactfully pulled up the waistband of my leggings which had slipped down a bit and which might have been revealing some butt crack, and said, "There you go Mummy, I just pull up your trousers for you."

~

On Friday, I decided to make lentil soup.  Amazingly enough, Jake not only let me make it without any fuss, but he also wandered in and casually asked me what I was making. 

"I'm making soup!" I said.

"Soup?  Oh, can I have some?"

Naturally I hid my surprise and answered non-chalantly, "Sure," thinking - he's done this before.  Said he's interested in trying something then acts like I'm speaking Martian when I offer him some.

But this time, he actually tried some.  And he liked it.  And he said he liked it.  Several times!! And he ATE HALF A BOWL!  Of LENTIL SOUP!!! 

This might not be a big deal to many parents, especially baby-led weaned ones.  But Jake has been refusing vegetables and food with "bits in it" for at least a year now.  His diet has mainly consisted of rice, various forms of potato, bread and noodles/pasta.  He does not like meat (apart from fish fingers).  He does not like cheese (apat from Philadelphia).  He does not like pizza or burgers - veggie or otherwise.  Occasionally I can get away with putting frozen chopped spinach in his noodles or pasta sauce.  My sanity has been kept largely in tact because he does like my omelettes and he will eat fruit.  But he rarely tries anything new and when he does, he usually spits it out.  Hence the soup shocker.

Later, he ate more soup at dinner and ASKED to have some more for lunch the next day!!!!

(I know I'm probably breaking some Uber-Unconditional-Parenting rule by expressing an extra sense of love for my child for eating good nutritious food cooked by my own hands, but I can't help it, I do.  However, in my defense, I just want to say that I didn't make a big deal of it to him.  I just acted like it was normal.)

~

Yesterday morning, Jake and I had a wonderful morning of pottering and playing together.  It was one of those mornings where we were both happy and relaxed and really in tune with each other and everything flowed easily with spontaneity and unmatchable child-like joy.  Much of it was spent cutting up playdough and "cooking" it and having a picnic with it. 

After some time spent cutting and cooking, Jake said, "Wow, that was hard work Mummy.  Shall we have a cuppa tea?"

We also used the playdough to make a robot.  Jake was sticking some playdough circles to a box and telling me what he was doing.  "These are the robot's eyes and these are the cheeks.  Robots do have cheeks you know." 

I don't think I could love him more.  But I probably will. 

~

Totally off-topic, I've been having trouble commenting on some people's blogs on blogger.  I write my comment and no matter how I log in to post the comment, as soon as I press "Post Comment" the whole comment just disappears and nothing happens.  I don't know if you've experienced any problems trying to comment here, but if you did, I guess I wouldn't know!  And if you are one of the bloggers I usually read and comment on and you haven't heard from me in a while, you know why!  Just thought I'd mentioned it. 

Monday, October 03, 2011

Kick-start

Just a reminder that 26n is still going.  If you'd like a kick-start to your writing, try one of our prompts!  A shiny new one has just been posted.

We'd also appreciate it if you could spread the word and tell any of your friends, real or imaginary, who might be interested. 

Ta!