I started listening to Victoria Williams in college, thanks to some folk savvy friends and needing to cut my time at hardcore shows with something a little… sweeter. I don't listen to her very often anymore, but I do sing her songs to the kids all the time.
This moment will never come again
I know it because it has never been before
I listen to rain outside the door… a thousand voices singing songs that ain't been sung before…
This last year has been difficult. I am reminded at how limited some of our coping mechanisms are in response to stress. I am constantly asking myself to lower my expectations for myself as a parent. I fail my kids in small ways every single day. I champion my kids in small ways every day. August turned six this week. He sleeps next to Manny in a big bed and I laid between them last night and told him about first seeing and holding him. I told him how horrendous his gas smelled (wrong formula). And how we changed his diaper in the Target parking lot that first week and how his poop came out bright blue (a different but equally disagreeable formula). I told him how we kept him wrapped up in blankets once we got back to Portland, and how we put his bassinet over the heating vent to keep him warm. I told him how much better he makes our family every day. I told him how difficult it was for us to say goodbye to his mama and how difficult it must have been for her to let him go.
I'm sure you're not surprised to learn that he was a tiny bit fixated on the blue poop part of the story.
Thanks for having these conversations here with me. And for coming and reading. I have a lot to learn and I believe that there are folks out there that come to this space that have a lot to teach me. Sometimes we don't talk about hard things. Other times, we can choose to move past our discomfort. The latter option is proving to be almost always worth it.