Today I'm going to Grandma's for lunch. She'll no doubt ask me to dig up more myrtle, lilies of the valley and primrose to plant in my yard. I'll happily oblige. There is nothing like taking a piece of my childhood garden and planting it in my own at the insistence of my grandmother. Then tonight we have the first of four little league games this weekend. Four games, a birthday party, and a pet fair. I see many hot dogs in my future.
So the vomitous negativity of yesterday has passed. It's not that often that I *allow* myself to feel so totally pissed off. In fact, I've been known not to let myself truly feel a lot of emotion. I tend to bypass it and analyze it rather than go through it. But damn if the past couple of months haven't been an exercise in going straight through the flames of every emotion in the Moira Spectrum. I got married; my last boyfriend (and good friend, still) died; and now this BS with school registration.
But wait! There's so much more--good stuff of which I am proud! First of all, I'm confident this nonsense with school will work out--maybe not right now, maybe not even before the start of the school year. But it WILL work out. I'm also super-proud of my amazing kids. Sean and Nolan are by far the best kids ever. I'm so lucky to be their mom. They keep me grounded in ways they'll never know. I'm also blessed with four generations of amazing people in my family, and I've married into an equally strong family pack--splintered and messy like mine, but still strong.
And Ian. Man, have I lucked out with that one. The guy was just minding his own business, working minimally, enjoying single life with two dogs when I walked in. Now he's living with me, the boys, another dog and working his ass off at two jobs! He and I have something special, and I'm glad I finally allowed myself to enjoy it. I'm also so grateful for the genuine friends that I have. I sometimes cannot believe the sheer wealth of great people who have graced my life. And while a bright light went out when Patrick died, another one was lit somewhere above me--so my world has remained forever brightened by him.
I've got a bunch of projects I'm working on, too. I've got a couple of skirts and bags that I'm banging out on my sewing machine. I've ditched crochet in favor of knitting these days, and I'm slowly working on something--I don't know what it is yet, but I'm working on it--with the bamboo needles that Heide lent me months ago. I've got the decoupage itch, too. Reverse decoupage, to be exact. I need to scrounge up some glass plates and bowls at tag sales the next couple of weeks to get the ball rolling on that one.
I'm also finally putting some scrapbooks together--something I've kind of avoided for the past few years. I'm now ready to weed through boxes of memories accumulated since Hurricane Katrina, roughly the time my first marriage blew apart. I think I've healed enough from all of that to select and save proof of certain moments for posterity, glue them to pretty paper, and label them in a book. I'll decide what story I tell myself about my life. And I can tell you--it's all good. In the end, it's alllllllll good.
Finally, I've got a garden that is really coming together. This makes me so happy. The peace I find in our yard these days is really nurturing. Sean and Nolan love that "there is so much nature back here, Mom!". Although we've got a few years before many of the plants really mature and fill in, the yard is very different from when we first moved in last August, back when it was just a grass-shaped L and nothing more. Now at least 1/2--maybe even 2/3--of the space has been cultivated in some way. And the hummingbird feeder gets hung up today.
So basically, what I'm getting at today is that although I puked up some rough stuff yesterday, I'm really enjoying life and all that it throws at me these days. I can handle anything--I have no doubt about that. Yesterday I enjoyed a long, sweaty run after work. Nothing beats that for me. I absolutely love yoga, but a good run really gets so much out of my system. The kids were with their dad, Ian was out with Dylan, so I enjoyed a single girl's dinner standing at the kitchen counter and a glass of wine before everyone arrived home. My quiet moment in our home--which finally really feels like home, a place where I now know where to find things blindfolded--was precious to me. The flag mounted on our porch blew in a cool shoreline breeze. Birds made some noise in the yard, hopping around the flowers and chasing each other through the trees.
As I listened to the birds, I laughed to myself that the more things change, they really do stay the same. I'm again a homeowner in a tight New Haven neighborhood. I know most of my neighbors. I have a regular route I take when I run. I'm married. I have a garden. But this time, my garden is full of perennials. Sure, I have a smattering of impatiens again. But they no longer line my walkway like they did back in my old house. Now, my garden is all behind my fence, a sanctuary for me to return to each day with the people I love most. The front of the house has a few hanging and potted plants, of course. But whereas "before" I cared more about the curb appeal than the backyard behind my old broken gate, now the opposite is true. Our curb appeal is cute and adequate. But once you get beyond the simple, functioning gate of my little house...well, that's when you're really home.
So, I'm grateful. I'm happy. And I know that no matter what happens, it will all work out. It always has, and it always will. Wherever I go, there I am. And that's where I'm meant to be.