so there is one more day of christmas celebrating and i wish i wasn't, but i'm glad...i have been silently and secretly dreading it this year...my hopes were SO high for our beginning of christmas family traditions with ava, curt and me that it seemed more than likely that it would all suck more than anything...it wasn't great, i'm not going to lie, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it might have been...the problem was that there was company all day so the opportunity to actually do some nuclear-family-christmas-tradition-making sorta just slipped away...maybe next year? truthfully, bean is still a bit small for any REAL tradition-making that involves the WHOLE family.
apparently, i'm the kind of person that needs for things that are planned to STAY PLANNED. i think i mentioned that my mom had planned to have christmas on the 27th and then she changed it to accommodate curt's mom - that made me mad but i kinda got used to it 'specially cuz we were going to then have mom's meal on the 23rd and go again on the 27th for presents...but then my sister didn't want to and i had to get mad all over again...sigh...wow! i obviously DO have a short fuse. but, i survived all of the christmases to date and there is just my grandma's christmas left. today wasn't as bad as i feared either...though i have to admit i'm glad i'm at home now.
Sunday, December 27
Thursday, December 24
fortress
Fortress - Sister Hazel
it's bitter
tastes a lot like winter
and will it- release me
so heavy
how much more to bring down the levy
and kill me - don't kill me
i've been stayin' high...
and I've been feelin' sorry for myself
and I've been resurrecting my fortress to protect myself
shattered, tired, beaten, worn down and tattered
can you even hear me?
what do you expect out of me
i'm being buried alive and screaming
can't you see - can't you see me ?
weary, my hands slapped I'm cautious and leery
of tryin' - oh but I'm tryin'
how am I to figure it out
all alone I've been kickin' around
without my home - I'm so lost...
i'm tired, so tired of defending myself...the smart among you probably are thinking: "then stop being so defensive" but when have i ever REALLY claimed to be smart? in all honesty, i wish i could, stop being so defensive that is...it makes certain life events really suck...like, really. take tonight, for instance, i've truthfully been on edge all day long but that being on edge thing really alters my hearing or possibly my perception of what is said, what happens, and what might be being thought. i hear "oh, and then how long does she sleep?" and i immediately translate it to mean, "wow, you are such a stupid mom thinking your child needs sleep. i bet she wakes up a billion times a night, i bet I would do a WAY better job if i was her mom, YOU ARE SO UPTIGHT" and my hackles rise and i start reinforcing my defences before those words are actually said...the thing is, you know, it happens to be partially right - i just admitted it - i WAS on edge/uptight, as i am each time i interact with some people, but how do you stop the circle of madness?
i know, i know...on christmas eve...if you knew the tears of anguish i have cried over simply being me, the prayers that i have prayed so God would remove all the crumbs from my life and heart and create a clean spirit within me...i think the problem is that i'm ridiculously stubborn and foolishly sensitive. i tend to withhold even from God though i seriously want to give it all over to Him...i guess all i can do is to give myself over each day as much as i am able...what else is there? maybe with practise, i'll get better and things WILL change.
it's bitter
tastes a lot like winter
and will it- release me
so heavy
how much more to bring down the levy
and kill me - don't kill me
i've been stayin' high...
and I've been feelin' sorry for myself
and I've been resurrecting my fortress to protect myself
shattered, tired, beaten, worn down and tattered
can you even hear me?
what do you expect out of me
i'm being buried alive and screaming
can't you see - can't you see me ?
weary, my hands slapped I'm cautious and leery
of tryin' - oh but I'm tryin'
how am I to figure it out
all alone I've been kickin' around
without my home - I'm so lost...
i'm tired, so tired of defending myself...the smart among you probably are thinking: "then stop being so defensive" but when have i ever REALLY claimed to be smart? in all honesty, i wish i could, stop being so defensive that is...it makes certain life events really suck...like, really. take tonight, for instance, i've truthfully been on edge all day long but that being on edge thing really alters my hearing or possibly my perception of what is said, what happens, and what might be being thought. i hear "oh, and then how long does she sleep?" and i immediately translate it to mean, "wow, you are such a stupid mom thinking your child needs sleep. i bet she wakes up a billion times a night, i bet I would do a WAY better job if i was her mom, YOU ARE SO UPTIGHT" and my hackles rise and i start reinforcing my defences before those words are actually said...the thing is, you know, it happens to be partially right - i just admitted it - i WAS on edge/uptight, as i am each time i interact with some people, but how do you stop the circle of madness?
i know, i know...on christmas eve...if you knew the tears of anguish i have cried over simply being me, the prayers that i have prayed so God would remove all the crumbs from my life and heart and create a clean spirit within me...i think the problem is that i'm ridiculously stubborn and foolishly sensitive. i tend to withhold even from God though i seriously want to give it all over to Him...i guess all i can do is to give myself over each day as much as i am able...what else is there? maybe with practise, i'll get better and things WILL change.
Monday, December 21
HIS love
well, since i wanted to actually make an effort and my mind seems filled with holding onto the cliff i'm hanging over so as not to fall into the abyss of despair and my heart is struggling to let go of the roots of bitterness that i'm afraid are creeping in - how about if i tell you something cool?
so, awhile ago as i was rocking/praying ava to sleep God sort of blindsided me with his love. basically, i was reminded of how people are constantly saying how like me ava is and how much we look and did look (when i was a baby) the same...God was kinda like "cecelia, THAT is how much i love YOU - i put bits of you in another human just cuz i love them - and look at how great you think ava is - THAT'S how great i think you are times ten"
before the snow and before the cold, ava and i were going for a walk and sometimes instead of talking to ava, i talk to God (it can get a little tiring always talking to a baby ;). anywho, we were walking outside of our yard to the north along the trail and it was blowing (AGAIN) though not as much as usual and the lake was blowing and looking gross AGAIN. i was looking down and there were a few puddles in the bottom cuz of the rain and i said to God "that looks like us, like how we feel - just enough of you to have puddles of faith - to hold on to the belief that you ARE good, that you ARE there but SO dry. God, why don't you fill that lake?" and God said to me "it's not so bad to be dry" and i was kinda like "huh? i beg to differ" so he explained..."i COULD fill you and all the crap that is still there would be covered and you never know when it'd come to the surface. but, if you're dry, i can blow over you, my winds can blow away all that yuck and then, i WILL fill you and there won't be yuck at the bottom"
i had been saying to God "how come other people always hear you and i never do?" and he was kinda all "HA!"
so, awhile ago as i was rocking/praying ava to sleep God sort of blindsided me with his love. basically, i was reminded of how people are constantly saying how like me ava is and how much we look and did look (when i was a baby) the same...God was kinda like "cecelia, THAT is how much i love YOU - i put bits of you in another human just cuz i love them - and look at how great you think ava is - THAT'S how great i think you are times ten"
before the snow and before the cold, ava and i were going for a walk and sometimes instead of talking to ava, i talk to God (it can get a little tiring always talking to a baby ;). anywho, we were walking outside of our yard to the north along the trail and it was blowing (AGAIN) though not as much as usual and the lake was blowing and looking gross AGAIN. i was looking down and there were a few puddles in the bottom cuz of the rain and i said to God "that looks like us, like how we feel - just enough of you to have puddles of faith - to hold on to the belief that you ARE good, that you ARE there but SO dry. God, why don't you fill that lake?" and God said to me "it's not so bad to be dry" and i was kinda like "huh? i beg to differ" so he explained..."i COULD fill you and all the crap that is still there would be covered and you never know when it'd come to the surface. but, if you're dry, i can blow over you, my winds can blow away all that yuck and then, i WILL fill you and there won't be yuck at the bottom"
i had been saying to God "how come other people always hear you and i never do?" and he was kinda all "HA!"
Saturday, December 12
soon and very soon
yikes, it's been awhile. the tree looks absolutely beautiful - the popcorn/cranberry chains are a definite must for subsequent years of tree decorating...i love it!
how come it's so much easier to write when i'm upset about something and not that easy when i am ridiculously happy about something? the best i can come up with is that i don't feel like words are good enough for awesome stuff - at least not the words i can come up with. and when i'm upset, words are usually sufficient to get it out of my head (or at least they help).
how come baby bean doesn't sleep when she's tired? i mean, sometimes, yes, but take, for instance, right now, she was TIRED and conditions all seemed good for sleep but she's swinging in her swing in the dark right now, talking to herself. at least she's not crying, i guess. but still, why fight it? the time will come when i'll have to fight to get her to wake up (i anticipate).
so, curt phoned his mom today to find out when her christmas is...wouldn't you know it, it's the SAME day as my mom's. i HATE that, in fact, stupidly enough, it seems like christmas is spoiled. and although i know i'm wrong, it seems like it. oh, i need to stop being a dummy...it's just that christmas is so dang short why do it all in 3 seconds? there is 31 days in december - USE THEM!! plus, ava can't handle a whole day of not sleeping - so one of the celebrations is going to be much SHORTER...on the plus side, bean doesn't need to have a few evening screwed up with not going to sleep - just this one...sigh.
on a happier note, i'm so excited about having christmas with curt and ava...i can't wait to make our own traditions...i want our christmas as a small family to be something that is looked forward to by each one of us...something that we all guard as something almost sacred...i want it to be storybook-like. it scares me a little - mostly when i'm anticipating something (at least this year) it turns out far less than i hope and throws me to the floor.
how come it's so much easier to write when i'm upset about something and not that easy when i am ridiculously happy about something? the best i can come up with is that i don't feel like words are good enough for awesome stuff - at least not the words i can come up with. and when i'm upset, words are usually sufficient to get it out of my head (or at least they help).
how come baby bean doesn't sleep when she's tired? i mean, sometimes, yes, but take, for instance, right now, she was TIRED and conditions all seemed good for sleep but she's swinging in her swing in the dark right now, talking to herself. at least she's not crying, i guess. but still, why fight it? the time will come when i'll have to fight to get her to wake up (i anticipate).
so, curt phoned his mom today to find out when her christmas is...wouldn't you know it, it's the SAME day as my mom's. i HATE that, in fact, stupidly enough, it seems like christmas is spoiled. and although i know i'm wrong, it seems like it. oh, i need to stop being a dummy...it's just that christmas is so dang short why do it all in 3 seconds? there is 31 days in december - USE THEM!! plus, ava can't handle a whole day of not sleeping - so one of the celebrations is going to be much SHORTER...on the plus side, bean doesn't need to have a few evening screwed up with not going to sleep - just this one...sigh.
on a happier note, i'm so excited about having christmas with curt and ava...i can't wait to make our own traditions...i want our christmas as a small family to be something that is looked forward to by each one of us...something that we all guard as something almost sacred...i want it to be storybook-like. it scares me a little - mostly when i'm anticipating something (at least this year) it turns out far less than i hope and throws me to the floor.
Thursday, December 3
let the traditions begin
it's december and it's time for all things christmas. FINALLY it snowed yesterday so there is a white skiff on the ground and it's actually beginning to look like christmas! i'm almost finished my christmas baking - just three more things that i want to make. and i started listening to christmas music on the first...because, if you don't start with the christmas celebrating now, it's over WAY too soon. plus, you can't listen to christmas music until december - it's against everything i believe in :).
with my small new family, i am excited to begin some of our OWN traditions...today is the beginning. (the new small part of my family will not be directly involved this year) my sister and i decided we were going to make popcorn-cranberry chains for our christmas trees this year...AND, to make the day even a little more merry, we got ourselves a bottle of baileys and we're all set to begin our festive month! i'll let you know how it goes.
with my small new family, i am excited to begin some of our OWN traditions...today is the beginning. (the new small part of my family will not be directly involved this year) my sister and i decided we were going to make popcorn-cranberry chains for our christmas trees this year...AND, to make the day even a little more merry, we got ourselves a bottle of baileys and we're all set to begin our festive month! i'll let you know how it goes.
Wednesday, December 2
hiding in the open
i am an actress.
some of the time.
especially, recently.
when i look back i notice that i am not being honest. i'm not really lying either, it's more like not telling the whole truth, not letting people EVER know exactly. i can laugh and smile with the best of them and, you know, it isn't as if i NEVER feel happy. just, most of the time, it's a mask i'm wearing. i don't really want to talk about it cuz i don't want to be all 'boohoo me' and, in the end, who really wants to hear about the bad stuff all the time? plus, i know that of the people i talk to in my life - my husband, my mom, my best friend - not one of them really understands the way it is. you know, i don't really understand it myself so i can't blame them.
i can't lie, i know i'm not the worst off, i know that there are things that are a million times worse and would make my life (and even the way i feel these days) feel like paradise. BUT, the fact remains, even if it's 'paradise hell' it's still a sub-division of hell.
i feel like an open wound walking around. actually, maybe not quite an open wound, but a very slowly healing wound where the scar keeps opening up when you barely even bump it. it shouldn't be like that - the last 8 months should have been the best times ever - i have an 8 month old baby girl who is the most wonderful, best, most beautiful baby that the world has ever seen - trust me, i know! she's healthy and happy and growing bigger and learning so much and she's perfect and i am so blessed to have her. i HATE that i am unable to enjoy the process as much as i should be.
why?
it was a normal delivery the doctors all said (though, in my world, it was equivalent to cruel and unusual torture)...my question then is WHY WHY WHY did it take 6 freakin' weeks for me to be able to cough or laugh without it hurting? how come it took 30 minutes to walk the 10 meters to my bathroom, go pee, get up and wash my hands and walk 10 meters back? that, to me being an amateur at giving birth, is NOT normal...but hey? who questions the doctors?
and then the baby bean grew slowly and we had to go to the doctor to get her checked out every single month (sometimes more than once a month cuz bean's momma is a bit dense) for 5 and 1/2 months and every last time, they weighed her and she was 'fine, just small...NOT CONCERNED'...okay, so loudly i tell everyone, she's JUST LITTLE...then one day bean doesn't weigh any more than the last month that we weighed her (must have been the wrong clothes - don't even get me started on weighing babies with clothes on) and suddenly we are referred to a pediatrician and 1 month later when we finally see him we are admitted to the hospital because my baby was starving.
you tell me which human being, let alone mother, in the world can hear someone say that their baby is starving and not feel like it's her fault. tell me who has heard those words and doesn't feel the gaze of every last medical person involved and every last person who knows what happened and NOT feel their condemnation. and you know, i almost didn't blame them, i still feel like it was my fault, but, honestly, i did EVERYthing i knew how to do - i fed bean cereal early (cuz she seemed hungry - and don't worry, she could hold her head up and all that) and i got in trouble for it...i tried (as she kept getting skinnier) to feed her formula from a bottle and she would not take it and i went to the doctor every blinkin' month - what more could i do? and yet i wish i had done more.
if you HATE all things hospital as much as i did and do (even more now) the admission to the hospital was hideous...though i am SO thankful that baby bean is growing big...but in spite of that good - it was awful. and through it all to feel as though every last person in the world blamed me...and not being able to justify myself at all. on top of that, our pediatrician was an ASS - he thought he was the most brilliant doctor in the whole world and he really wanted to let you know it...he couldn't seem to understand english - though last i checked they do speak english in england (where he was from)...and he seemed to spend all his days thinking of new ways to be awful to me...it didn't matter what we were talking about - he was ridiculously negative. take, for example, 2 days before we were discharged - bean was learning to drink from a bottle, was gaining steadily (so, the problem was my milk - not that anyone told me or bothered to test it or anything), and was doing so well despite the trauma of the 11 days and the ASS (shall we call him dr. a?) told me that they would have to send us to a bigger center where they would put a 'button in her stomach' so the food would go directly to her stomach. THAT is what the 2 weeks in the hospital was like.
but we're home and have been doing well and despite the fact that even after changing doctors in an attempt to find one who was human still and NOT finding one (i'm convinced that in order to become a doctor you sign your soul away and forgo being human), most of my time seems spent dealing with the way i can't stop feeling.
not every time anymore, but every once in awhile, i see my sister nursing her baby, or some random person nursing their baby and i feel that scar break open and the blood gush out - i was forced to wean in the hospital because it was the only way i could see that bean would ever learn to drink from a bottle - but instead of taking a few weeks, i had to do it in 1 day...my god, it hurt - physically, and emotionally and, like i just said - the wound opens up.
as i brought bean in for ANOTHER appointment, our new doctor - the one who was hopefully human - yelled at me and told me that basically i was a sorry excuse for a mother and it was lucky that bean at least had her for a doctor cuz she actually cared what happened - and the scar broke open.
i hear other moms talking about nursing their babies, or about what is going on with their babies - why they are fussy, how they know that this and that is going on - and the scar tears open. i feel like i have no right to 'know' my baby any more - after all, i almost killed her. i'm sure my voice is the loudest, but i hear all the voices saying - honestly, what DO you know?
doing stuff with my husband's family makes the wound start to fester. i KNOW that a HUGE part of it is me - i need to forgive and i KNOW that the things that hurt me like crazy were not and are not meant to hurt at all...and yet i can't seem to give it up - this big part just won't let go, it wants them to actually realize how hurt i was and am and for them to say sorry. plus, i know that they wish bean belonged to someone other than me. i know that they think i do things with bean ALL wrong and so, i lash out (just quietly but still lashing) and i open the wound up myself.
my mom, who has been SO supportive and without whom, i couldn't have made it, casually rips the scar off when she sees someone who knows what bean has been through and says jubilantly 'yep, she sure looks different than when she was STARVING to DEATH'. now, i KNOW that she isn't trying to hurt me, and i know that she's just happy that everything is going smashingly now, but still, i feel that blood start to pool.
so, hopefully, being an actress will give me a little time. just a little time for me to 'stay under cover' and for the wound to heal. hopefully, my lack of forgiveness won't turn into bitterness (though, if i'm honest, there is a definite sprout) and maybe even just writing this will allow me to begin to let go, even just a little.
some of the time.
especially, recently.
when i look back i notice that i am not being honest. i'm not really lying either, it's more like not telling the whole truth, not letting people EVER know exactly. i can laugh and smile with the best of them and, you know, it isn't as if i NEVER feel happy. just, most of the time, it's a mask i'm wearing. i don't really want to talk about it cuz i don't want to be all 'boohoo me' and, in the end, who really wants to hear about the bad stuff all the time? plus, i know that of the people i talk to in my life - my husband, my mom, my best friend - not one of them really understands the way it is. you know, i don't really understand it myself so i can't blame them.
i can't lie, i know i'm not the worst off, i know that there are things that are a million times worse and would make my life (and even the way i feel these days) feel like paradise. BUT, the fact remains, even if it's 'paradise hell' it's still a sub-division of hell.
i feel like an open wound walking around. actually, maybe not quite an open wound, but a very slowly healing wound where the scar keeps opening up when you barely even bump it. it shouldn't be like that - the last 8 months should have been the best times ever - i have an 8 month old baby girl who is the most wonderful, best, most beautiful baby that the world has ever seen - trust me, i know! she's healthy and happy and growing bigger and learning so much and she's perfect and i am so blessed to have her. i HATE that i am unable to enjoy the process as much as i should be.
why?
it was a normal delivery the doctors all said (though, in my world, it was equivalent to cruel and unusual torture)...my question then is WHY WHY WHY did it take 6 freakin' weeks for me to be able to cough or laugh without it hurting? how come it took 30 minutes to walk the 10 meters to my bathroom, go pee, get up and wash my hands and walk 10 meters back? that, to me being an amateur at giving birth, is NOT normal...but hey? who questions the doctors?
and then the baby bean grew slowly and we had to go to the doctor to get her checked out every single month (sometimes more than once a month cuz bean's momma is a bit dense) for 5 and 1/2 months and every last time, they weighed her and she was 'fine, just small...NOT CONCERNED'...okay, so loudly i tell everyone, she's JUST LITTLE...then one day bean doesn't weigh any more than the last month that we weighed her (must have been the wrong clothes - don't even get me started on weighing babies with clothes on) and suddenly we are referred to a pediatrician and 1 month later when we finally see him we are admitted to the hospital because my baby was starving.
you tell me which human being, let alone mother, in the world can hear someone say that their baby is starving and not feel like it's her fault. tell me who has heard those words and doesn't feel the gaze of every last medical person involved and every last person who knows what happened and NOT feel their condemnation. and you know, i almost didn't blame them, i still feel like it was my fault, but, honestly, i did EVERYthing i knew how to do - i fed bean cereal early (cuz she seemed hungry - and don't worry, she could hold her head up and all that) and i got in trouble for it...i tried (as she kept getting skinnier) to feed her formula from a bottle and she would not take it and i went to the doctor every blinkin' month - what more could i do? and yet i wish i had done more.
if you HATE all things hospital as much as i did and do (even more now) the admission to the hospital was hideous...though i am SO thankful that baby bean is growing big...but in spite of that good - it was awful. and through it all to feel as though every last person in the world blamed me...and not being able to justify myself at all. on top of that, our pediatrician was an ASS - he thought he was the most brilliant doctor in the whole world and he really wanted to let you know it...he couldn't seem to understand english - though last i checked they do speak english in england (where he was from)...and he seemed to spend all his days thinking of new ways to be awful to me...it didn't matter what we were talking about - he was ridiculously negative. take, for example, 2 days before we were discharged - bean was learning to drink from a bottle, was gaining steadily (so, the problem was my milk - not that anyone told me or bothered to test it or anything), and was doing so well despite the trauma of the 11 days and the ASS (shall we call him dr. a?) told me that they would have to send us to a bigger center where they would put a 'button in her stomach' so the food would go directly to her stomach. THAT is what the 2 weeks in the hospital was like.
but we're home and have been doing well and despite the fact that even after changing doctors in an attempt to find one who was human still and NOT finding one (i'm convinced that in order to become a doctor you sign your soul away and forgo being human), most of my time seems spent dealing with the way i can't stop feeling.
not every time anymore, but every once in awhile, i see my sister nursing her baby, or some random person nursing their baby and i feel that scar break open and the blood gush out - i was forced to wean in the hospital because it was the only way i could see that bean would ever learn to drink from a bottle - but instead of taking a few weeks, i had to do it in 1 day...my god, it hurt - physically, and emotionally and, like i just said - the wound opens up.
as i brought bean in for ANOTHER appointment, our new doctor - the one who was hopefully human - yelled at me and told me that basically i was a sorry excuse for a mother and it was lucky that bean at least had her for a doctor cuz she actually cared what happened - and the scar broke open.
i hear other moms talking about nursing their babies, or about what is going on with their babies - why they are fussy, how they know that this and that is going on - and the scar tears open. i feel like i have no right to 'know' my baby any more - after all, i almost killed her. i'm sure my voice is the loudest, but i hear all the voices saying - honestly, what DO you know?
doing stuff with my husband's family makes the wound start to fester. i KNOW that a HUGE part of it is me - i need to forgive and i KNOW that the things that hurt me like crazy were not and are not meant to hurt at all...and yet i can't seem to give it up - this big part just won't let go, it wants them to actually realize how hurt i was and am and for them to say sorry. plus, i know that they wish bean belonged to someone other than me. i know that they think i do things with bean ALL wrong and so, i lash out (just quietly but still lashing) and i open the wound up myself.
my mom, who has been SO supportive and without whom, i couldn't have made it, casually rips the scar off when she sees someone who knows what bean has been through and says jubilantly 'yep, she sure looks different than when she was STARVING to DEATH'. now, i KNOW that she isn't trying to hurt me, and i know that she's just happy that everything is going smashingly now, but still, i feel that blood start to pool.
so, hopefully, being an actress will give me a little time. just a little time for me to 'stay under cover' and for the wound to heal. hopefully, my lack of forgiveness won't turn into bitterness (though, if i'm honest, there is a definite sprout) and maybe even just writing this will allow me to begin to let go, even just a little.
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