It connects me to you



I think about blogging every day.

 

In fact, over the past almost six years, not a day goes by that I don't see the happenings of my life through this lens. I’m constantly writing posts in my head, trying out new ways to express what I’m going through.  It brings me a lot of satisfaction.

 

It connects me to you.

 

I try to write honestly, give you a true sense of my experience. I figure, what’s the point in trying to fool you into thinking my life is perfect. It’s not. And I want us to know we’re in this together. I want you to know that I haven’t discovered a secret formula that you don’t know about. I'm not living a freakishly happy life over here.

 

My life is probably exactly like yours. Just in a different house, on a different street. In different skin.

 

Sometimes I worry about what you must think - I rarely stray from writing about my kids or my childhood, or my feelings. But then I remember that that is what I have to offer. That is why I write. That might be why you come back. And also this; these are the things that have shaped me. These are the things that give me a voice: Motherhood. My childhood. My feelings about it all.

 

I post these pictures and write these words, but I'm not living a life unlike yours.

 

I bicker and fight with my husband.

I yell at my kids.

I cry in the night.

I get jealous.

I wish I could lose ten pounds at least 20 times a day.

My house is a mess a lot of the time.

 

We’re so much the same, probably. You and me.

 

I find great comfort in that. I fight to remember this when I’m feeling outside of myself. When I’m feeling alone and disconnected. I write to connect again. I write to stay conscious. I write to find my voice when I feel like I can't speak.

 

I just wanted you to know this.

 And also I wanted to show you pictures from our little vacation. We took the kids to KOA in Port Huron, Michigan again this year. On the way to work this morning, Deaglan asked me for the tenth time, "Don't you wish we lived at KOA Mom?"

 

Clearly he didn't notice the state of my hair due to the lack of indoor plumbing.

 



This guy here.
Well.
He's just naughty scrumptiousness.

At Deaglan's soccer game this past weekend I grabbed him around the waist and asked him softly for a kiss.

His response?

"Mommy, I hate you and I hate kith-is."

No less than five mothers and grandparents within earshot turned our way, chuckled and said some version of, "AWWWW, but kisses are the best and so are Mommies."

I shrugged sheepishly and shook my head. He's a hater lately. What can you do?

I wrote several variations of a veiled apology for including this picture of myself and then deleted them all. Then I deleted the picture and added it again.

Hi, my name is Kim and I don't have a flat stomach. And I never will.

 This guy. Well, as usual he kept us fed.

 And this guy here.

This joke-telling, negotiating, "I've got a great idea," sarcastic, pickle loving kid of ours. He was the perfect age for KOA this year. He helped me see it all through a kid's joy-filled eyes again. He wished out loud a dozen times or more that we could just move right into that cabin we were staying in. Just live there for the rest of our lives.

That cabin with no bathroom or running water.

Oh. Don't put ice in this kid's cup.

Ever.

Especially if you have any hopes that he'll eat his dinner. When there is ice in sight, he.can't.focus. Until it's gone.

 

Cajun porkchops with mango salsa. Steak with sautéed mushrooms and asparagus the next night.

I'm not bragging.

Just pointing out the fringe benefits of hooking up with a guy who knows his way around a kitchen. And a campstove.

I love bedhead on a hater.

The vacuum (you see it there on the grass below?) came with us. Naturally.

We spent a great deal of time playing I spy over the three days away. On Naveen's turns he mostly spied his vacuum or our real one (which was at home) or my friend Kathy's blue vacuum. In St. Catharines.

Somebody explain the rules to this kid. Please.

Each kid got to spend $10 at the souvenir shop. I spent three days tracking down rubber balls and polished stones. And just as much time breaking up fights because of them.

That's all for now friends.