 |
| life is sweeter when you see it through fresh eyes |
there are few things in this life that make you stop and really smile (at least, there are if you’re like me, a despite-my-best-intentions glass-is-half-empty sort of gal). i’m talking about the kind of smile that comes over you, where your whole body takes part in a complete feeling of joy. not just a “heh, cute!” moment, like what happens when you see a kitten or a small kid trying to learn how to ride a bike, but one where your heart beats softer (even melts a little) and your mouth pulls at your whole face. You grin so big and so hard that the skin behind your ears moves and stretches and that fleeting “oh I should probably stop smiling like a goon because I’m going to get wrinkles” thought never even enters your mind. I’m talking about that peaceful, lovely, tingly, whole-body kind of joy (and no, this is not a blog inspired by fifty shades of grey, I’m not talking about orgasmic ecstasy). feeling the joy has been rare for me lately as I’ve been completing (another) university degree, this time to become a teacher. I worked my butt off and now there are no jobs, yadda yadda sob story. Enough of that. What kept me afloat this whole time was the fact that I had a family to (try really hard to) prioritize and come home to each night. I want to chronicle the joyous moments here because death is long and what comes before it is relatively minute.
I should stop and mention that I’ve got my act together enough to be writing this while my son is napping, a load of laundry is on and one is drying and I’m letting homemade banana bread cool on a wire rack in my adjacent kitchen. I’ve got this whole Martha Stewart thing going on today and the birds are chirping and I swiffered (I made it a verb!) and my friend visited me from the metropolis to the ‘burbs and brought me a vase of perfect ruby and yellow tulips, so due to all these wonderful sensory things all aligning I guess I can attempt to channel a less sexy version of Carrie Bradshaw and start this mom blog that all of my girlfriends have been urging me to do.
Back to joy. I was, and am, able to get my joy where I can, in small doses during those nice moments that happen when I’m with my son, when I drop him off at Grandma’s house in the morning on the way to school and when I pick him up at the day’s end, when I spend those last 3 or 4 hours with him before he goes “nigh-night”. It can be little things like having him suddenly hug or cuddle me for no apparent reason. Or his clinginess to me - why is he shadowing me and why can I not close the door for 2 seconds to go pee without an operatic wailing ensuing? There are some truly magical moments that pole-vault way beyond “moments fit for baby book entries” that make life, well, just sweeter. Like witnessing my son reveal a skill that had been latent or lurking somewhere inside; one that I had not a clue he possessed. Watching a skill debut like mimicking my exact intonation and expression when I say ‘uh-oh’ or his rather impressive ability to blow bubbles in his milk. I nearly fell over from shock when I saw him screw and unscrew the lid on a jar. I guess “my son” is a tad informal and cold. the kid I’m referring to is my 18 month old son Charlie. He’s pretty marvellous. As I hope I can reveal in future entries.
You might be wondering, "what's with the title of her blog?" Well, last May we moved into our first house and the thing that has made the most difference to me is our garbage disposal in our kitchen sink. Especially having a baby, being able to throw nearly anything down there lickety-split and have it out of my life is AMAZING. Plus I use it as a metaphor, if you don't like it or don't need it, get rid of it! I've been working really hard at trying to live with less, need less and trying to be happy with less. I've also been trying to unload emotional baggage and get focused on the new me, a mom. This, coupled with an addiction to Hoarders, has made me really embrace my garburator. Its my motto, "out with the old, in with the new".
