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“You can make anything by writing.” ― C.S. Lewis

Posts for Kitty Fiddle Miss Category

An Eight Month Letter to My Daughter

[previously in this series…]

Dear Ariadne,

I am behind on writing and posting your eight-month letter, as I have been behind on everything this past month. Your papa and I have been late or not caught up on just about every task and project this month.

And you know what? It’s completely intentional, for once.

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I realized, in this last month, we needed to slow down. Everyone needs that reminder, once in a while. It’s so easy to get caught up in our long, long lists of things we need to accomplish, never-ending tasks that we cycle through over and over again. We get so engrossed in obligation and duty and responsibility. We are trick ponies, making our jumps and running the course, aiming to do everything as quickly and neatly as possible.

But – it’s impossible. The course is never done, our lives never stop being busy and requiring so much of us. We can push and push and push ourselves, but there’s no magical day when the laundry stops being dirty and then clean and then needing to be put away. There’s no day that we won’t need groceries or gas or to mow the lawn. It keeps coming, and the more we rush, the less we are living; the more we are becoming robotic – the more we are missing the point of living by trying so hard to cross things off our to-do lists.

To live is to feel life, is to find empty spaces in between the Must Dos, and take advantage of that space, that time. To take advantage of those empty spaces and push at our boundaries, to allow ourselves to be still in those moments and not hassle ourselves to fill them with another activity, another responsibility.

Your papa and I were caught up in that whirlwind of go-go-go, do-do-do. I (as usual) was mostly to blame as I tend to chart my success in life based on how much I’ve accomplished each day. It’s as if I need a concrete list to prove to myself that I’ve done enough, been the best person I could.

It took me a little while to realize it – but our evenings started to feel so rushed. We were in a hurry, your papa and I, and we were rushing you. I didn’t realize it until I was journaling one evening – your papa was at work, you were asleep in your bed, and I had a few minutes to sit and think and write out my thoughts.

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The Little Things

When I’m worried, and I can’t sleep, I count my blessings instead of sheep, and I fall asleep, counting my blessings.

I’m quick to list off everything that annoys me or inconveniences me. That list is a mile long, half the time, and it’s always ready on the tip of my tongue.

But then, I had a really lovely, relaxing Sunday yesterday, full of those little pleasures that seems so small yet add so much goodness into my life. That reminded me of how very many of those little joys I have all week long, from people I look forward to seeing to activities we do together, to little sensual pleasures, self-care luxuries that are quick to get lost in the shuffle of our day-to-day demands.

Here are a few of mine, won’t you share some of yours?

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Two Years, Six Years.

My love, my husband, my boy —

I’m sitting here, writing this a few weeks early. The way life has been going lately, I know if I don’t take advantage of a few still moments to write, I might not have time for it later.

Evening is just starting to settle in, the light pouring in the big windows in the den is sharpening, taking on that amber hue that lets me know the sunshine is fleeting. Our fur baby, your kitty-daughter is snoozing on top of a stack of our stuff, some T-shirts, a few scraps of paper — because why wouldn’t she stake her claim on all of our stuff, mark us as hers?

You’re at work, and I miss you. It feels like we haven’t seen a lot of each other lately, although I’m proud of how we work to make time for each other, and each other alone. Maybe it’s just grabbing lunch in between both of our work shifts, maybe it’s the five minutes we nestle together in bed before I drift off. Maybe it’s those fifteen minutes on the couch as we’re winding down from the day — my favourite time of day, when I snuggle into your chest and you wrap your arms around me, scoot lower in the couch so you become my body pillow. How you pet my hair, drop kisses on my forehead. No matter how hard either of our days were, no matter how stressed or drained we feel — those fifteen minutes seem to cure it all, or at least make the pain and the exhaustion fade long enough to get up and do it all again, the next morning.

So, I’m writing this in the few quiet minutes I have, because our anniversary is in two weeks. When the actual day comes, we’ll be in Florida, our first vacation since our honeymoon, hopefully riding horses or walking down to Blackwater River. I hope we are holding hands, I hope we are laughing, I hope we are breathing easy.

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Life Blog: Sunday.

I love days where you get to do all the things you want to do.

Each and every day is eaten up by so much have to. Have to get out of bed. Have to go to work. Have to pay attention at work all day, have to be polite and friendly and efficient. Have to repress the urge to actually maim all the people you swear under your breath you’ll maim as you check out at Wal-mart/get stuck in traffic/try and fix a paper jam on the office printer.

And even beyond the obligations, there’s so much compromise. Where to meet friends for supper, and how long to stay out. What to watch on the TV as you lounge on the couch with your husband/girlfriend/roommate/mother.

The best days are the days where you get to do absolutely whatever it is you want to do. The lovely little things, sometimes just the quiet things — things we can’t always make time for, in the hustle and the bustle of the day to day, the obligations, the have to. The things that actually make us saner and nicer and more patient and rested, but aren’t technically seen as necessary, so they’re the first things to be dropped, when life starts to get hectic.

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