She Is

She cries in the night and I wake.

I throw my legs over the side of the bed and pad quietly across the floor, through the living room, down the hall.

I open her door and see her face, twisted by the bad dream she is in.

I kneel down by her little bed and place one hand on her chest and the other on her face.

“Shhhhh,” I whisper. “It’s okay.”

She stops whimpering and her face relaxes. I keep my hands on her little body.

“Mommy,” she sighs, her eyes still closed. “Snuggle me.”

I crawl into the tiny bed, draped in a pink blanket with a castle and frog on it.

I lay my head on the pillow labeled PRINCESS, and she turns into my chest and drapes her little arm across mine, her delicate nose pressed against my neck, her little forehead resting on my chin.

I kiss her head and smell the watermelon shampoo.

Even in the dim glow of the room’s nightlight, her hair is golden; bleached by the sun and chlorine of summer days at the pool.

It falls across the pillow and down her back, over her shoulder, against her collarbone, and ends in a loose wave against the ruffle of her nightgown.

Her little face is soft and relaxed, and she looks every bit the PRINCESS that her pillow claims to be.

I brush the tendril of golden hair away from her throat, and kiss her gently on the cheek.

“Sweet dreams my little September baby,” I tell her in a hushed voice.

She seems to nod her head, and I crawl back out of the little space I’ve occupied for these few, brief minutes in the middle of the night.

I open the door and stand in its frame for a few more moments, taking in the sweet serenity of my child while she slumbers.

Here, in the darkest hours of the morning, I stare at this little marvel.

She is pure and sweet. She is joy and wonder. But mostly…most importantly…she is my light.

~ Erica Day McCarthy - 22 July 2019 - 2:00 am - San Antonio, TX ~

The View from St. Mary's Street

The sky's been gray and so has my heart.

The rain keeps coming and I think it will wash everything away,
but instead it just leaves everything muddy.

When it dries, little water spots cover my windows,
and turn my once clear view into a splotchy, blotted mess.

You've been away for months,
and what once was is different now.

This new normal of mine isn't normal at all,
and I don't know if I'll ever know it again.

But maybe that's the thing,
maybe it's always changing.

Sometimes we change with it,
sometimes we don't.

It's easy to remember the clear view of youth,
before all the rain and wind and hail and snow came.

Spring is here and winter is gone.

I'll wash the windows and wipe away the grime,
no need to complain about the rain.

The rain will always come and go,
the spots will only stay if you let them.

Normal is the moment and what you make of it.

Neither new nor old,
just here and now.

What I want.

What it can be.

© Erica Day McCarthy, San Antonio, Texas - 2 May 2019

A Mother's Lamentations

I screamed and she looked at me with wide eyes like I was a monster, and I felt like one;
Then her eyes turned fierce and she screamed back, her chin jutted, her jaw cocked.
We stared at one another, angry and confused and shocked and sad;
We both cried, and held each other, and promised to not do it again....
But youth and motherhood are at odds with each other often;
And the fatigue from long days, long weeks, long months can build up;
And whether it's two months, two weeks, or two days, it happens again.

At night I sat and grieved my response, my actions;
I told myself what I needed to do, how I needed to be;
I remembered my childhood, I remembered my parents, I remembered not understanding....
And now I get it all.
And even though it is normal - sometimes we have to cut ourselves a break,
We still hate ourselves for failing - failing us and failing them.

They'll never understand until they're older;
How much we cried, how much we hurt, how much we loved;
But I know tomorrow morning she'll awake and come to me.
She'll crawl into my lap like a little cat, and I'll wrap her up so tight;
She'll kiss my cheek and I'll kiss hers, and she'll look up at my face;
And in my eyes I hope she sees all the love in the world pouring out and over her.

© Erica Day McCarthy, San Antonio, Texas - 26 February 2019

The Words We Say...

My oldest daughter walked off the school bus today and there was no smile on her face, no spring in her step, no silly antics to be had. Her day at school hadn't gone as she had hoped because a "friend" of hers had said some things to her and goaded her into doing something that she got reprimanded for. This isn't the first time this "friend" had made her feel a little lousy, and having been a young, school-aged girl, once upon a time ago, myself - I can remember all of this well:
The ultimatums for friendship - "If you don't (fill in the blank), I'm not going to be your friend."
The fibs and absurd pronouncements - "I know you're actually adopted because you don't look like your Mom."
The general bullying - "Do (this), or you can't come to my party."
All of it just SUCKS, and as a parent it SUCKS just as much.

Your parents always told you the same lines growing up that mine did, I assume:
"It hurts me, just as much as you, to punish you."
"I know it's hard to understand, but in the long run this isn't a big deal."
"Friends will come, and friends will go, but family is forever."

All true. All things I find myself saying. And all a load of BS to the kid dealing with being a kid in the moment.

As a parent you just want to fix everything and make the world and the people in it better for them. You want them to understand things as if they are in graduate school, when they're only five. And even though you know you can't fix it all and they don't grasp the multi-faceted, psychological layers of what is going on, you still try. First you try to commiserate by offering a story from your youth, and then you try to explain why this happens, and then you try to have them internalize it....and by the end of the 15 minute diatribe you just went on, you realize you lost them and they just want to play Pokémon Go! So you go play Pokémon Go, and take the kids out for ice cream, and 30 minutes later you're all laughing about how silly Bewear's are, and discussing the benefits of water and fire type Pokémon.

The whole thing reminded me of so many similar car-rides with my Mom when I was in elementary, and middle, and high school. All of the advice she would try to give me, all of the love she hoped I realized I had, and all of the happiness she just wanted for me. I drove back home and started getting a little choked up realizing how much we don't appreciate our parents sometimes. Because it wasn't just my Mom, my Dad did the same for me in his own way too. It's what parents do, and it's what we don't appreciate in our youth, and even as we get older and become adults. We get so used to rolling our eyes and disregarding their advice when we are younger, that even when we get older and can start appreciating some of their wisdom, we still think we know what's best. And believe me, parents don't always know what's best either! I can attest to the fact that even though I am in the infancy of trying to guide my young little padawans, I still find myself struggling with the right words and sentiments in explaining things, and often crossing my fingers and saying a prayer that I didn't "F" stuff up too much! But I also see how hard this is and have a truly different appreciation for how thankless being a parent really is.

If my Mom hadn't been on the clock, I would have called her immediately right then and told her how much I loved her and how hard I know it must have been being a divorced Mom with a teenage daughter who thought she knew everything back then (and still might act like that at times, even now). And that's when I really let loose with the water works. I started thinking about all of our conversations and all of the advice she'd ever given me, all of the assurances, all of the unending support (no matter what), all of it coming from a place of hope and love and wanting the best for me, and how many times I would give it lip-service but never actually heed it or just appreciate it. And I thought about how brusque I could be at times with her; how harsh and bitter and cold I could play something off, all because I didn't want to acknowledge something that I didn't want to feel.

In life we all can behave like this, and unfortunately we always do it to the people we love the most and who love us the most because we know, usually, they're not going anywhere. The words we say to the people we are the most honest with, the most ourselves with, can often be the most stinging and barbarous.

Last month I wrote about Stoicism and quoted Seneca from his work On the Brevity of Life. In the stanza I cited is the line: "How many have laid waste to your life when you weren't aware of what you were losing?" The line is harsh and real. But it's not just about being aware of how we are affected by such transgressions, it also makes you pause to think about what you have made others lose. Sometimes our actions take away what may seemingly be just a modicum of "grief...joy...desire...amusement," but which adds up to a fair sum in total when we keep doing it without being aware. And sometimes we take away much more from others than we ever meant to because we were foolhardy or insensitive to situations. Whatever the case, we're all guilty and we all have different ways of acknowledging and dealing with those realities, and at the end of the day I'm sure we all wish we could give those things back to the people we cared about; to let our parents, and the ones we love most, know we are sorry for all of the pain and grief we have put them through.

It's food for thought as I push forward on this journey that is parenthood; mindful of my own shortcomings, and aware that my children will have their own, too. But no matter what their faults, and no matter mine, I will be mindful to always remember, to always love, to always pause, and to always reflect carefully on the words I say and the actions I chose.

Finding Center

A couple of months ago our family took a trip to the local Costco. Years ago, after we first got married, the hubby and I had a membership to a Sam's Club back in Missouri, which I wrote a post about way back then. Since then (7 years ago), we've moved to five different states, and haven't always been in a city with a warehouse magnate. So we just decided to forego the idea. Recently, however, we had a discussion about how it would probably be a smart investment, now that we have a small-sized clan that goes through toilet paper, paper towels, cereal, milk, fruit, etc, at a dizzying rate. So, once a month I take my littlest partner in crime with me and we head to Costco to stock up on all of the things we need in mass quantity, or can get for a way more economical price.

My Mom will always tell me about everything that is wonderful about Costco. That's where she works part-time, now that she's retired. I used to laugh and tell her she was easily brainwashed by the company, but then I got the membership and I totally get it. Costco is fantastic! And I have to say - based on what she tells me - the pay is pretty good ($12-20/hr), the benefits and perks are pretty awesome (discounts, travel packages, vacation time), and they have a solid health insurance package. I feel like I'm my mother these days, touting how I don't know what I was doing without this place in my life prior to this!

Today, as I made my way through the brightly lit warehouse, on my mission to secure my list of stocking items, I looked at the rows and rows of neatly organized shelves. Everything is always dressed right and lined up, and there's something inherently pleasing and desirous about extremely tidy and neat things. I like things when they are in their place, but that doesn't mean the shelves in my pantry at home are so neat, or that the thoughts and emotions in my own head are always in order...far from it.

Life is an exercise in taking in what's around us (physically and mentally), making sense of it, and then organizing all of it in our own personal space and mind. Sometimes we think we have everything sorted and put on proper shelves. Sometimes we open up our own proverbial warehouses and realize there is nothing but chaos. And sometimes our lives are a combination of both; tidy and seemingly in working order, but messy and cluttered when you start opening all of the drawers.

So the task I have for myself, and for anyone reading, is to recognize where the items of life are properly placed, and where they are not. Let's organize the personal space we occupy and the mind in which we live, so that when we step back and look at everything we can feel calm. Life can get messy and disorganized, so take a moment to take a deep breath, tackle the clutter bit by bit, and order your space and mind so you can find your center.

Bit by bit, organize personal spaces...

…and declutter your mind.

In the Moment

My dear friend gifted me a wonderful book for Christmas this year....

Yes, that's a pillar candle with Christopher Walken in Saint robes! 

If you're ever in San Antonio, check out the shop Leighelena at The Pearl to get one!

I've been reading it daily, and it's been a great catalyst for personal introspection and external acceptance of the world around me.

For those not familiar with stoic philosophy, it's pretty much accepting the world around you for what it is and understanding that aside from your own personal choices, you can't control outside factors and environs. 

Wikipedia aptly explains it as such:

"According to its teachings, as social beings, the path to happiness for humans is found in accepting the moment as it presents itself, by not allowing oneself to be controlled by the desire for pleasure or fear of pain, by using one's mind to understand the world and to do one's part in nature's plan, and by working together and treating others fairly and justly."

In a world in which we often get angered and frustrated by the milieu around us every day, stoicism tells us to relax and be mindful. 

I last wrote nearly two months ago, prior to receiving this book. In that post, and some of my earlier posts, I tried to wrap my reflections on life around an idea that I was forming. It's funny how the core of what I was trying to explain was really, idealistically stoic.

I think we often forget that our "modern" problems aren't new at all. People have been dealing with issues for millenia. Pain, joy, angst, love, hate, lust, loathing, laziness, idolatry, gossip....all of these things and more.

One of my favorite passages that I have read so far from the book is this:

"How many have laid waste to your life when you weren't aware of what you were losing, how much was wasted in pointless grief, foolish joy, greedy desire, and social amusements - how little of your own was left to you."

-Seneca, On the Brevity of Life, 3.3b

I wanted to share all of this because I feel like it has helped me to gain some perspective so far this year. My goal is to be constantly mindful and aware; to remember what I can influence, and what I cannot, and to find happiness where it exists. Despite the ugliness and pain that is constant in this world, there is also beauty and joy. I hear it in the song of a blue jay flitting in the trees. I see it in the sunlight when it rises every morning. I feel it in my heart when my daughters wrap their hands around mine and lay their heads on my chest. 

Find the beauty in each day. Find happiness as it makes itself known to you. Don't be consumed by fear and pain and the unknown. Live in the moment and be mindful. And to quote my generation's most beloved stoics, Bill and Ted..."Be excellent to eachother!"

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References:

Stoicism - Wikipedia

Holiday, Ryan. The Daily Stoic: 366 Meditations on Wisdom, Perserverance, and the Art of Living. New York: Portfolio/Penguin, 2016. Print.

Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure