I hope your Thanksgiving is filled with abundance, friends and/or family, and a warm, comfortable place to settle and rest and marinate in the deliciousness of a life filled with gratitude.

My day isn’t quite like that.  Mine is more of the get up and finish making everything, make sure kids and self are presentable, drive half an hour to one part of the family, eat too much, drive to another part of the family, help make more food, eat too much twice (dessert can be its own meal), spend half an hour trying to make a dent in the mess created, collapse on the couch for a bit and then drive home exhausted around midnight.

But I am blessed to have the family I do.  The more, the merrier, right?  I will gladly spread four meals of thanks throughout the month to get to spend time with my loved ones, and I do sincerely love them.

Complain as we might, some of my fondest memories and the best conversations are had while preparing meals and doing the dishes.  It’s like talking to a man while driving; you can get into deeper conversation there. Women talk well while driving, too, but for me, it’s best when sewing/crafting, cooking, dish washing . . . and, of course, over some tasty beverages.

May your love and conversation be rich, and may you be filled with gratitude.

Finally, all finished.

Fabric paint on the soles of the slippers keep little ones from ice-skating around and hopefully prevent some of the falls that inevitably come at their age.

A crochet hook pulls the ribbon through to tie a bow.  I went ahead and secured the bow with some needle and thread, hopefully warding off the endless re-tying.

Now, they’re ready to gift.  Later this winter, I foresee myself making some in the larger sizes. 

Our heating unit has been sporadic at best, so at night we make sure the kids are dressed warmly and snuggled underneath layers of sheet, quilt, comforter and random blankets.  This night in particular, I knelt beside our youngest one’s bed.  She was too fussy to cradle hold and rock and sing to sleep, so I tucked her in, topped off with her “baby” and hummed softly.

Her eyes blinked slowly, heavily, for just a few moments before closing for sleep, but she reached her arm out toward me and felt my hand lying nearby.  By this time the cat had joined us, purring warmly, deeply, as a black cat does.

Autumn rested her hand in mine, and I let the energy flow back and forth between us.  I was letting go of my crap from the day, hoping it was going somewhere else than to her.  I sent up a prayer that I needed Divine Love to flow into her.  I was empty.  I just wanted to be a channel.  I didn’t have to be the wonderful mother I always hope to be; I just wanted her to receive and be filled with Love that was greater than us both.

Through our hands, I wanted her to experience love.  In that warmth I hope she felt the comfort of what I call Christ’s love, though you can call it Love or Grace or any other name.  To even give it a name is limiting what it really is, for in truth, it can only be experienced.

Exchanging this type of love doesn’t have to be between a mother and child or even between just family and friends.  Every time we shake hands, offer a smile or look sincerely into another’s eyes, we have to potential to exchange the energy of unconditional Love.  It’s all about intention and surrender.  Sometimes it’s easier when we already feel beaten and exhausted.  When we feel like we’re at the top of our game, when our ego is doing just fine, it’s easy to believe we’ve got it all under control.

As much as I hate to admit it, I appreciate the lessons that show me I have little control in this life.  There are forces greater than me at work.  The best I can do is be the conduit for the Love that binds us all.

I am grateful to my little one for giving me a glimpse of that this night.

I don’t know that there specifically is a link to the cleanliness of our house and the well-being of my very soul, but, if personal experience is evidence enough, I have to say this is true.

I posted in my FaceBook profile that I was “waiting for the house to clean itself.”  I really wanted it to or at least for some of the others in the same house to make an effort.  Honestly, I just wanted to sit and knit, maybe even watch a movie.

Alas, finishing one of the books on my reading list (I Could Do Anything If I Only Knew What It Was) Barbara Sher points out that some people have a tendency to be “ragers,” meaning that you “rage against the ordinary” or are too good to do the everyday work everyone has to do to survive.  Perhaps I was raging.  Maybe I just needed to give myself some time to shift gears so that I could do the little bit deeper cleaning that I needed (and still need) to do.

It’s always easier to do the heavy work if the clutter is out of the way.

The booties are quick and easy to knit, to be sure.  Even though I knit the second pair to test my technique, I still couldn’t decide when to stop on the right side.  Fortunately, when felted, they did pretty much look the same. 

Delightfully for me, and thankfully for my dry, sensitive hands, my washer does work for felting.  Though it is a front-loader, it will pause and allow me to open the door.  Additionally, the heavy cotton cycle is perfect timing for felting . . . at least for this project!

I prefer the bulky yarn for these booties, but the lighter-weight yarn makes for a nice, lighter, more flexible bootie.  Both have an almost elvish quality to them.

There’s one more installment on the booties, because even though they are felted and dry, they’re still neither finished nor fit to be worn by little tootsies.

Some say that the more you focus on something, the more you make it so.  Put out to the Universe that your life is abundantly blessed, and you attract abundance.  So, with all the waves being full of talk of the US economic crisis, are we making it worse each time we hear the rising unemployment rate, the 50,000-job cut, the Congressional bail-out debates, the credit crunch, etc., etc.?

For many families, I’m sure it’s simply another day in the life.  I know for my family, it’s a weekly challenge to figure out how to make sure all the bills are paid on time.  At least we have the means to pay them (mostly) on time.  But some days you wonder.  Some days you feel more a part of those who live with heavier burdens that you are used to carrying.

Some days you’re told you need a new heat and air unit.  Some days the car doesn’t start.  Some days you live with the fact that you can’t afford what you would honestly, truthfully like to have, even if what you want is to send your child to preschool.  You might even learn that you don’t have as much in assets as what you thought you had because of the state of the market.

We learn to make sacrifices.  We learn to make adjustments, some of which are harder than others.  Some of us are slow learners and keep getting the homework sent back to do over and over again.  One of these days, surely, we’ll get it right.

Time to focus on our true and real blessings in this season of Thanks, and perhaps it’s time to start giving more.

Actually, the title should say “Much Needed Mommy Me Time.” 

Once we become mothers, our identity as an individual woman is lost.  Birth is greater than bringing a new life to the world, as huge as that is.  Birth also ushers in our motherhood, full force.  We agree to be responsible for growing a body and nurturing a soul and may consent to continue to nurture said being for the rest of our living days.  So here I am, in the thick of “nurturing” and realizing that I need to take care of myself so I can better care for those who depend upon me (a recurring theme, I know).

Part of my care includes recognizing myself as a woman.  My needs are not only the needs of the family.  To keep my life in perspective, I have to carefully evaluate what I need to feel like I’m fully living my purpose.  Not everyone feels this way, and it’s important to know what your personal needs are.

A friend of mine and I are doing a baby-sitting swap.  For frugal mothers (whether of desire or necessity) who seek their alone time, this is solid gold.  It’s giving and receiving.  Today I got to go to the library and browse in the upstairs section.  It doesn’t matter that we were at the library yesterday.  I can’t remember when last I checked a book out for myself.  After the library, I went to a local bookstore.  It was time to buy an ’09 calendar, and they had some beautiful ones.  Not every time for me includes an expense, but it is a reward to myself for all the work I put into this family-rearing that justifies my purchases when I make them.  (Hope you agree, dear.) 

Now this evening we enjoy our church’s meal before the service (trans: “I don’t have to cook”).  After the short, kid-friendly/chaotic service, I facilitate a women’s spirituality circle.  The church provides a nursery.

I know it doesn’t always take a village to raise a child, but I’m a firm believer that it helps greatly.  If nothing else, it makes for better mothers.

This is my first felting experiment.  Truth be told, it is also the first time I’m actually knitting from a pattern.  It has been a good experience thus far.

The funny thing is, I still don’t know what I’m doing!  I hope that the felting will disguise the fact that one slipper has a “wrong side” out.  It was the first one I did.  I don’t recall doing the second one any different, but isn’t that the way with crafts?  Sometimes they take on a life of their own.

These purple gems will go to our youngest as a Christmas gift, the first to be checked off the ever growing list!

If you’re interested in where I got the pattern from, the book is called Knit It! Felt It!, published by House of White Birches (which invokes a lovely image, I must say).  It’s the Child’s Footies pattern on p.64.

I’m not sure I’ll have them felted by Thursday, but the good news is that the dishes are done so that the sink is available!

Ten years ago yesterday, my husband and I went to our 37-week check up to find out that we were going to the hospital to be induced due to pre-eclampsia.  I was huge and swollen but felt fine.  I wouldn’t be going back to class, though.  (I was still in college at the time.)

Ten years ago this evening, around 7:45 to be more accurate, our baby girl was born in the hospital, and I morphed from a pregnant mama into a mom — drugged, clueless, bewildered.  I had just done the hardest thing ever, experienced the greatest pain ever, was in the hospital for the first time in my life as a bed-ridden patient, and now I was responsible for a baby I couldn’t even see or care for properly.  It may be easy to understand now why I work closely with pregnant mamas and support other mothers.

I teach Bradley classes to help all who want to be healthy and know about the process, all who don’t want to walk into their birthing situations not knowing what’s going on.  I serve as a doula selfishly because it is a window into a sacrament of life, in my opinion, but I also sacrifice my time to help others have a more calm, peaceful, empowered birth.  I hope to advocate for mothers, to help them when they feel they need it.  In my ten years as a mother, I have learned these things can make all the difference.  All these things help mothers in their role, in their lives.

Being pregnant and mothering is not always easy.  It’s hard, frustrating and exhillarating all in a day, with windows of peace of calm (and not always just when the kids are sleeping, though that helps).  Time is our best teacher.  We cannot always go up to a woman and tell her the things that will make her “job” as mother easier.  I don’t know that I would have listened and heeded such advice.  Many of us have to experience it for ourselves, learn in our own time.

So on this, my daughter’s tenth birthday, I also celebrate the anniversary of my motherhood and revel in all the lessons I’ve learned along the way, a few of which I share on this blog, most of which I’ve either internalized or will experience again and again until at last I truly learn what it is I need to know.  I’ll always be learning.  Whether we have one child or four (or heaven help you if you have more!), we will never fully know or understand everything.

As I kiss the kids good-night I always wish them peace and love and hope that when it’s their turn to be parents, they will know more than I.  We do the best we can with what we have, which may sound cliche, but it’s true.

We didn’t plan the timing of our first child, whose birth was also induced, but maybe that’s what I needed to become the mother I am.  Maybe I needed the divine intervention because Lord knows if I knew what I would be getting into, I may not have been humble enough to choose this route!

Blessings and gratitude to my eldest child and to all us mothers who should celebrate our motherhood daily if for nothing else than for the fact that we are doing our best.  The rest is out of our hands.  Here’s to the decades to come.

*Cheers!*
 

Finally, I see where all the fall colors come from.  So often each tree changes to its one color, then the leaves drop and become the brown, crunchy mass.  This past week, I’ve seen trees in all shades, from blazing orange to fiery red to brilliant gold.  Yesterday I even saw one of the most beautiful fall maples with shades from green to yellow and red to orange.  If I hadn’t been driving, I think I would have stopped to bask in its brilliance.

There’s no doubt we’re in the midst of fall now; the leaves are quickly dropping, the nights are cold, the holiday goods are out in all the stores, and the lights being put all around the square.  Now I figure is a good time to be honest with myself and take a good look at where I am, who I am, what I’m doing and where I’m going.  I should have done this on my birthday, but I was too busy doing.  I’m getting signs that now would be a good time.  (I share this with you not to boast or brag or complain out loud but rather to encourage you to take time to do the same for yourself at some point.)

I ground myself in my writing.  To write, I must be still so as to receive the truth that is being channeled through me.  I have to be careful about my influences, for everything in my environment affects how I interpret any given moment.  When writing, I feel my closest connection to the Divine and feel that this is my right livelihood.  Going forward, I make a conscious effort to write more daily, be a productive writer and establish myself as such.

I craft to disperse the creative energy in a physical, practical way.  Perhaps if I channeled all my creative energy into writing, I wouldn’t need to write more, but I enjoy greatly using my goods, giving handmade gifts and teaching the children how to make thin  Now I will increase my skills with what I have and make what I need or need to give.  I would like to make a few things well to sell in an Etsy shop.  That would be nice.

My relationships with others I feel has always been golden.  I do my best to be authentic with them, to listen well and to be participatory.  With my children and husband, I have to make a conscious effort to love myself well so that I may love them wholly.  We are currently seeking a family counselor so as to address our needs, for raising kids is harder than we ever imagined it could be.  We need some help, and asking for help is completely okay.  It’s better to ask for help than to sink into despair, withdrawing from yourself and others.  May we be always honest, loving and respectful of ourselves and each other.

In the daily round, I am pleased with where my expectations are.  I’ve come a long way in understanding what I can and cannot do, steering myself away from the buckets of shoulds.  That’s not to say I don’t occasionally regress.  In a given day, like all mothers, I combine all my different roles.  I am at once a writer, wife, mother, spiritual seeker and birth advocate and educator/doula.  I’m sure that’s probably not even all aspects of my being, but they affect most of what I do, day in and day out.

As with the leaves, I am constantly changing.  Where I am today differs from yesterday and tomorrow, but if I can hear what I need from and for my soul, then I can visualize it and try my best to make it manifest.  To do so, I need some quiet, some time for me.  Thanks, Casey, for giving me that time yesterday when I needed it so badly.  Thanks, Kaye, for listening.