As winter rolls out...

I woke up to a beautiful morning!  It's extremely windy, but sunny, and I can see Spring slowly rolling in... as I ponder the reasons we often rush every season, I can't help but whisper "slow down... "take it all in... for this season is full of things you'll never have again."

For as winter rolls out and Spring comes in, we build nostalgia for moments we'll often look back on with a smile.  No reason to rush those moments.  And even more of a reason to breathe them in!

The wind is symbolic today.  Really blistering cold when the wind hits my face.  It feels it may be that last little trail of winter leaving us.  It's winter's one, last frozen reminder that it's leaving us, and will leave us with a bang.  It's the end of March, some flowers have begun to bloom, the trees are sprouting tiny leaves, and the birds wake me with their beautiful melodies each morning.  Oh, how I've longed for this.  I've waited for Spring and the feeling of rebirth.

But today, just for today, I will embrace this last bit of winter, these last bit of chilly memories, the crispness in the air, the frost on the ground, and the smell of a roaring chimney two houses down.   Just for one more day...

Happy Monday.

Love you and your memories,
Candle

Not so soccer mom

I absolutely could not wait for my daughter to be three!  Not because I wanted her to grow up any faster, but because of all of the fun things she could participate in!  This is the age where she can start most recreational sports and activities in our town.  Dance, tee-ball, soccer, etc.  I was elated to get her signed up for soccer because she has so much energy and I knew she would benefit from such an endurance based sport.  It was all for fun.  We started in the fall, and she spent most of the season warming up to the idea of being on a team.  We didn't have too many successful days on the field in the fall of 2012, but we went, she played with her friends, ran around during games, and practiced with the other boys.  Yes, boys.  She was THE only girl on her team.  That part was also a little hard to get used to.

Fast forward to Spring 2013.  We sign her up again.  Now, she is this social butterfly, sweet and tenderhearted, and loves the other children.  Sometimes she gets a little off focus on the field (which really, what three year old doesn't, at some point?).  While everyone else is chasing the ball, you can find her running with the pack, up close to the ball, or sometimes you can find her running along staring at the sky and smiling.  She really is such a beautiful little soul.  This is something I never want to break her of.  Soccer is supposed to be for fun.  Soccer is supposed to help her learn to play on a team, discover athletic skills, get her some nice play time and vitamin d; but, most importantly, it should boost her self-esteem and confidence.  We cheer her on and encourage her to go after the ball, but let's face it... she is three years old.  All of the children she plays with are only three and four years old.  Thus, making this a hilarious, enjoyable, nice, hour long show :)  We get such a kick out of watching these little kids be KIDS. 

And sooooooo, here comes my frustration:

As I sit through the first practice of the season last week, my husband by my side, (this part was nice because the first season I sat completely alone, as he was out of town working all week, every week) I start to notice some pretty disturbing things from the neighboring team.  

***Let me give you a little background info on soccer at the YMCA.  Anyone with children ages three and up can sign up their children.  I think the ages go up to ten years old.  But, for the younger children (like mine) they are there to learn to play.  Basic team skills.  Basic soccer.  Basic three and four year old fun.  During practices, two teams practice on one field, each using one half of the field to practice.  From what I noticed in the fall season, the teams seemed pretty evenly matched, and most parents seemed to be doing this together, for the first time.  The teams are supposed to have anywhere from 6-8 players and they are all supposed to be decently, fairly matched.  Well, from what I'm seeing in Spring 2013, this is far from the case.***

Back to our neighboring team.........

So, I'm sitting with my husband at practice number one, first day.  He looks at me and asks, "Honey, I thought you said our team had 8 players"?  Well, of course our roster said we did.  I will look into who is missing and what is going on here.  Right about that time, I notice that the team next to us had 10 kids.  TEN KIDS Y'ALL!  That's a whole lot of three and four year old craziness.  But, ok.  More power to ya coach.  Problem is, one of those kids had been taken from our team and put on theirs because the parents got torn up over the PERFECT team.  Yes, we found this out due to eaves dropping as well.  We were missing a kid because they took him.  Now we barely have enough children to make a team, and they have TEN.  This was the first of many harsh realizations we had to endure that night.  

Next, was having to sit and listen to the moms on the other team talk about their children and how each of their children knew each other and only played together in this one little special group.  One lady talked about what her gender preference was for child number 2 (she was pregnant) and how she already had this child's life laid out as well.  The other mother is talking about how they can all get their children enrolled in the same classes at the local private preschool.  The men are standing back, on their cell phones, conducting business, or just avoiding their fatherly/husband duties, whilst the wives are chatting about life in suburbia and their kids are being trained/drilled by a man who seems to think he coaches college ball.  It was disgusting.  My husband would lean over and ask, "Are you catching all of this"?  Sadly, I was.  The mothers of the "robot" kids kept shooting our team "the look", as if we were some sort of misfit parents and we weren't cool enough to be TRUE soccer moms and dads.  Truly pitiful.  Their children ran intense drills with little to no fun, or room for error.  You could see that they knew the coach outside of practice and all of the children knew each other as well.  (Remember, these teams are supposed to be picked randomly to offer fairness on the field).  

This may all seem trivial, and why the hell are you writing a blog about some silly kids soccer?  Who cares?  It's just kids and parents and this stuff is normal.  So what.  Quit your bitching.  

-TRUST ME, I HAVE A POINT.  I AM GETTING TO IT-

Finally, after practice we hear the coach of these tiny kids saying to the parents, "Yeah, i have a super stacked team this season.  Ya know, everyone requested me as coach and so, my team is huge and we couldn't even put anyone else on it, but I have THE stacked team."

*Ok, I have a competitive streak.  But, that came with age.  Growth.  Responsibility.  I do not care if my child wins or loses one single game at three years old.  We have a coach out there who talks about having a "stacked team".  Of three and four year olds?!?  Dude, are you serious?  Do you hear what you said?  While you're running these drills down these children's throats during practice, you are creating little competitive, robot, bullies.*

Next practice, that team moved.  All the way to the other end of the practice fields.  And they were given a special, whole big field all to themselves.  They have special goals, and they also get the whole field.  The moms and dads have lobbied to take even more children to stack the already ten player team they've built, but haven't succeeded.  

Here's my RANT.  My moral to this lengthy story:

In my honest opinion (which I'm sure is going to piss someone off), THESE parents are everything that is wrong with our children.  You get pregnant.  You pop them out.  You mold them to be these little people with YOUR personalities.  Once they hit a certain age, you quit worrying they will develop as they need to, and realize you have succeeded in your robot mold.  You can sit through practice, chatting with the other desperate housewives, while not paying one ounce of attention to the field, your child, or the coach.  You have molded a perfect little world.  A perfect little society of your favorite soccer mommies and kids. 

Now, don't get me wrong, I love the other moms on my kid's team.  And we chat and laugh and they are really nice people to be around.  And yes, two of them were previous friends.  But, I met all of the rest of them through the program.  We went potluck with our choices and got lucky.  We won't try to lobby for some super, mega team.  We don't sit around talking about our little "society" while practice is taking place.  We bs about the kids. How adorable they are and how far they've come.  Every now and then, something else will seep up in our convos, but we don't dwell on those topics.  We get too distracted by our purpose for being there... ya know... the kids?  Our kids!?

Here's what I'm asking... 

is life really this political?  Does it really begin this early?  Are parents really pushing children to make little societies at the ages of three and four?  

Because I promise you, these children are learning from their parents' decisions.  

"You can only play with these types of kids.  You can only go to school at these schools and we only want you in this teacher's class and on this coaches team.  And you have to look like all of the other little kids you play with."  

The cliques!  Y'all, we complain about bullies and cliques and teenagers all day long; but, we are often the reason it begins... and it begins at this age!  This young age!  

These little kids are watching their mothers sit, and judge, and push an image of perfection.  They are watching their parents use coercion and power to get what they want.  They are learning ENTITLEMENT.  These kids have nothing else to go on, other than what their parents are showing them.  Hell, they can't even get an outside source of influence, because the coach is in the circle, along with the teacher, the preacher, and their friends' parents.  It's this pattern.  This pattern makes me scared for those children, and mine.  

This epiphany has sickened me.  I have been dying to write about it since it took place last week, but I have remained hesitant until today.  I'm writing, mostly as a reminder to myself.  A reminder to let my child be a human being.  Children are smart.  They need our love and guidance, but not our force.  If I find myself in a mess where I am ever trying to mold my daughter (or future children) into some little image I have preconceived, I hope someone will sit me down and smack me in the face.  

Let's please be more aware of the influence we have in the lives of our babies.  Let's make the effort to make them lovers, not haters.  I urge you to try and keep your negative opinions of other parents and their children to yourselves.  Every time we judge anyone else in front of our kids, we are adding a piece of OUR prejudices to their little, developing minds.  Let's try together.  Let's really really try. 

With lots and lots of big love, 

Candle

  

The monster is stirring.

So, I actually have a whole load of things I have to be doing today.  But, I keep feeling like I'm going to cry.  Then, I remembered, I have been quieting the beast for over a week now.  If I don't write, I begin to feel sick with sadness.  I have so many emotions running through my system at this moment.  I can't shake the feeling that I am just not doing enough.  The "fear" kind of took over me again.  I quit stepping forward with my plans for the forum.  I need motivation.  I started worrying (once again) about the approval of others and took a giant step back.  Is this battle ever going to get easier?  I mean forget one step forward two steps back.  We're talking a half of a step forward and a giant leap backwards.

Tears are welling up.  Here goes... I'm on the search for something.

And there it was... Looking for inspiration and I find this quote:
"A non-writing writer is a monster courting insanity." -Franz Kafka


I'm not one for public speeches.  I don't have the best advice on etiquette or charm or how to be the perfect housewife.  I don't organize events or have too much involvement with my immediate community.  I'm not extremely creative, nor am I an artist with a brush and paints and a beautiful imagination breathing life onto a page.  I don't have a special room where I can go and be alone with my canvas.  What I do have, is an ability to write.  And a pink journal.  And a pen.
This gift: this journal and pen and head full of mess, releases everything captive in my soul.  Once it's on paper, I feel free.

My only problem here is that I'm still scared to even share this stuff with anyone.  What if they don't like me?  I've already re-started my blog so many times, OUT OF PURE FEAR.  What if they laugh at me or critique who I am?  I'm not sure if I can add anymore "let downs" to my list.  So, as I sit here crying, writing, releasing, worrying... I've regained some motivation.  And honestly, I'm just deciding to get back on my quest and say screw it, and what everyone else thinks.  Instead of struggling between the peaceful person within my soul and the cynical thinker who sometimes doesn't hold back, I'm going to strive to use them together.  And, if you truly understand me, you will take both of these sides and know that they are what make me beautiful!  You will see both sides in my writing.  You'll see it in the topics that are important in my life.  You'll see it in my quirky sense of humor.  Please just know that whatever comes out in my writing, is always true to my soul, and the only way I can tame the monster when insanity is near...

my sun, my moon, and all my stars...

This angel girl has made being a mom so incredibly easy.  Even the difficult days are easy because she is a gift of a different kind.  She has the kindest, sweetest, most sensitive heart.  Her imagination has no bounds.  She is as fierce as a firecracker, and demands attention.  But, she gives it too.  She is going to do something amazing one day.  I feel it.  She has already touched so many.  What an amazing blessing of sweet little pitter patter, the day she entered our lives.  We are all better for your presence here on earth, my sweet Annabelle.  I love you to the moon and back.  You are my sunshine...

But I can't go back. And I don't want to...

I may be the most emotionally, insane mom in the world.  I've always been a bit to handle when it comes to dramatic emotions; but, as I sit here tonight, crying, it seems I've reached a new level.  It started with some writing.  Then some snuggling with my little girl.  Then a chat with my mama, which prompted an enormous flood of tears.  I realized I'm crying out this overwhelming burden I'm feeling.  I couldn't put my finger on it and I'm still not sure if I can.  After explaining how I'm feeling to my mom, I realized I'm changing.  I'm heading to a different place in my life.  I'm heading to this place where I won't be satisfied until I have done something.  I'm being called to feel.  But, feel what?  Why am I so in tune lately?  What am I missing?

I'm crying for humanity.  I'm crying for the people I can't reach.  I'm crying for all of the world that is missing the boat.  Missing compassion, kindness and strength.  I'm crying for the mother who doesn't get to kiss her baby goodnight anymore.  And for the father who doesn't spend enough time at home.  I'm crying for the little boy, Tripp, in Georgia that was nearly killed by a falling tree branch and has been fighting for his life for months.  I'm crying for kids in other countries who watch their siblings/mothers/fathers being blown away by bombs.  I cry for the moms I've met who want so desperately to fix their babies.  They want to reverse the man-made damage done to their children for profit.

I cry for the people I've hurt and the ones who have hurt me.  I cry for our world leaders.  I do.  I know it must be an empty, sad place when they lie down their heads at night.  I cry for the misfits; but, I also cry for the conformists... I cry for every person in my brain.  I cry for my family.  For my friends.  I cry for all of you.  I cry because we have become so complacent.  We have forgotten how magical we are.  We forget that we all belong together.  We were never meant to be at war with one each other.  I think our wars are fought within, and we should seek each other to help sort those battles.  How much more beauty would there be if we sought each other for growth?

So, maybe I really am just crying for everyone?  But why?  And why now, here lately?


The only thing I have been able to come up with, is that I am entering into a different state of awareness.  A different path of consciousness, so to speak.  I believe some call it, a "spiritual awakening".  No, I don't believe I have any crazy powers and I don't believe I am anything special in the whole grand scheme of things.  All I am meaning is that I feel life on a level much differently than I used to.  And, it is very spiritual.  I have always been an empathetic person, but that sense has grown dramatically.  I feel things differently than I ever have, and I'm thankful.  The tears are cleansing.  The passion for humanity makes me feel alive.  I'm okay with this change.  I am inviting it.  I believe my life has been a whirlwind up until my 30th birthday, and I think it has finally found it's slowing down point.  This is a place where I might finally find myself.  At this rate, I am hoping to find myself among all of you.  If I'm feeling this much pain, grief, happiness, fear, etc. then I hope it's all for something.  Although, these emotions can be confusing and extremely overwhelming, I would never want to go back.  And, I honestly don't think you can ever go back once you're here...