I admit I have trouble blogging. I forced myself to sit down and start writing this. I also admit I spend too much time on facebook. I do wonder if any of that time is worthwhile. It is. I've learned so much from various articles being passed around and I've made new friends or rekindled old friendships. The fact that it is a social networking and informational tool goes without saying. But I still spend too much time on it. Too much, because it cuts into time I could spend writing things with more depth.

What have I been doing lately? Kids are off from school so I've basically been the ring leader of a circus. We have kids, kittens, snails, tadpoles and a big stinky dog. There is also a husband who needs constant attention (though he doesn't always get it). Then of course there's cleaning and cooking. One wonders where I have any time to do anything else? I tend the garden too, and try to take walks, go jogging and.... gasp - write!

It's really strange that I identify myself with the fact that I am a "writer" and yet I do it so seldom these days. My novel (#2) is about 75% finished. I've been working on it for three years. I'm tired of it. I love it. It's my darling, my baby... I guess what I'm tired of is the emotions that come with it. Mainly the "I'm not good enough" emotions in their various forms. And I'm ashamed that it has taken me this long to get only 3/4 of the way through it. But I am a mother to a very demanding boy and also a stepmother and Queen of the Hill here in PA, which includes all of the aforementioned creatures in my care. I also need to sleep sometimes.

Today my big thrill was buying myself new headbands at the dollar section in Target.

Oh, and the box of merlot sitting on my counter.

Life is pretty good even if we're on a tight budget and we're teetering on the edge of sanity. I asked for all of this. I did. I was in my twenties and free and I said I wanted a farmhouse and a husband who was a musician and a bunch of kids and look what I got. And I only had to birth one of them. Another woman did the work with the older two. I really did get what I asked for with my life situation AND also with these kittens we have now. So if I can manifest those things, how about something else like... a finished novel and a book deal? A new car? Money?

Okay!

Time to go stir our dinner so it doesn't burn.

Maturity

Nothing like some Tool in my headphones for a cool morning jog. It's one of the only times in the day that I have all to myself. As I was running I was feeling exactly like myself... like I have always felt. The saying "inside every old person is a young person wondering what the hell happened" came to mind. I'm not old by any means, though that term is certainly relative (for example, my step kids probably think I seem pretty old especially when I'm grumpy). Anyway, I was struck by the difference between the soul and the body. The body changes but the soul remains the same.

When my son was born I was struck by how BIG his presence was despite his tiny baby body. His spirit is still huge while his body tries to catch up (which it will never do- the spirit is never contained completely within the walls of our body). Maybe life is just an attempt to create vessels expansive enough to house our spirits. Or maybe not. I know my body is changing.

I don't get carded anymore when I go to the liquor store. But my internal age hasn't changed one bit. Makes me wonder about maturity and what it really is. Is being "mature" learning how to follow society's rules? Learning how to conduct yourself properly in groups and in relationships? Learning how to eat the right things and say the right things... you get my point.

What makes a child or a person immature? Childlike behavior? Refusal to take responsibility? Or, inability to step up to the plate, so to speak? Sometimes I'm accused of being too serious. Does that make me more mature than someone who takes things lightly and jokes around a lot? Is my son immature because he still behaves like a 4 yr old sometimes at his ripe old age of 6? Is my husband immature because he is clearly a 15 yr old trapped in a 39 yr old body? Most people would say so. But I question the whole idea of maturity.

If maturity is what most people around me display on a daily basis I will gladly do without it.

early mornings

As usual, the boy woke me up during the 5 am hour and proceeded to roll around and wiggle until I got up. We spent the entire day outside. I worked on the website for my pipe dream home-based business while he rode his bike in circles in the driveway and then we took a long walk along the hay fields (oh my allergies!). We watched the farmer planting corn in his big tractor with the fancy planting thing dragging behind it (whatever that’s called!) and we found --- tiny freshwater clams in the mud puddles!

We made our first visit of the summer to our campsite - an area behind the house with a lovely hammock between oak trees and a few fire pits. Nate gathered wood and leaves and we had our first campfire of the season.

I have to pause and express my gratitude for this beautiful place and for the fact that my son gets to grow here and be a boy of nature, a boy of the farm... OH but if only life were as pastoral and sweet as it seems today. It is a lot of the time, but it has its struggles.