Amy seems to have suddenly learned to read. I know it hasn’t been sudden in reality, but it still seems that way. She knocks my socks off just as much as Sarah does, even if I take it for granted that she will. Still. Wow.
With her new sewing machine and Carl’s help, Sarah made a pair of pants! The only fabric I had was snail fabric so that is what she used and she made pants for Cookie Monster. I can barely stand the adorableness.
This week it was Amy’s turn to get strep throat. If Sarah hadn’t had it then I certainly wouldn’t have known anything was amiss with Amy. She barely seemed sick, but I recognized the rash and took her to the doctor. Luckily it was a day when it was easy for me to stay home without changing any plans. I have realized that for most of my appointments to happen on any given day I need to have 6 people/institutions functioning normally: the person I am meeting, me, Sarah, Amy, Sarah’s school, and Amy’s school (or daycare or sitters). No wonder I often see my plans flash before my eyes. Last week I benefited from the girls’ uncle A being available to hang out with Amy when her school was delayed due to the cold. This week I benefited from Grandpa being in town and available to help because Sarah’s school and daycare were both closed Thursday and Friday.
On Thursday I had a wonderful SR session. It had been a while since I’d been in the room and it felt so good to really connect and play with no distractions for an hour. We did a few rounds of giving each other kisses and saying “oh thank you!” and a few rounds of pretending to be sad or that our clothing was sad. We discussed what pants she wants and how she wants to go into the basement to open her Christmas presents now. (She already figured out that she could move the step-stool to the basement door to unlock it.) Then I started trying to sing songs and she kept playfully telling me not to. I would make a big playful deal out of it, especially about the varying amounts she would let me sing depending on the song. At one point I asked if I could sing about the color blue. She said yes so I sang the verse from “Jenny Jenkins” about blue. “Will you wear blue oh my dear oh my dear, will you wear blue Jenny Jenkins? No I won’t wear blue ‘cause the color’s too true. I’ll buy me a fauldy rauldy tildy tauldy seek a double ro—oll, Jenny Jenkins Roll!” (note: when I was little I thought the song was about socks. It is actually about a choice of wedding dress color). I worked my way through the colors and ended with the verse about “Now what do you care so I don’t go bare?” Sarah found that line so funny! I kept singing it over and over, helping her learn it. Then I wrote it on the white board wall and asked her to sing it. I love that she could be learning a new song and using her reading skills to help her. Now she is working on learning the lines about blue and she laughs so much she can barely get the words out.
I had more amazing Jenny-Rise sessions this week. It is so deeply amazing to have the feeling that everything is going to be ok and that I can put down my concerns, fears, stresses, tears, planning, and thinking for an hour and really just be. I can let go of things I have been carrying for years. I can stop being scared of my headaches and of pain. It feels so deeply healing. I wish I could give this gift of healing to everyone everywhere. It is amazing to have someone who seems to find the cracks, boulders, and hiccups in my system as if they are drawn visibly, someone who can directly target them with either incredibly gentle work or with pressing hard and specifically on a trigger point that hurts like hell but offers freedom. It is the combination and the blend that always feels so right that there must be an instruction manual attached to me though I have yet to see it. There are also times when I don’t let myself let go. After a session with all of the amazingness just described then I usually freak out a bit and think that I can’t deserve such a gift and so then I’m not quite as much in the moment the next time. It is priceless to have J still be with me, fascial connection made, waiting. As soon as I had the thought that I could really let go and accept the gift of healing then, fwoop, my fascia and muscles let go and started to move. It was instant once I allowed it. It just took many many minutes for me to allow it as I moved through my thinking. I feel like this has profound meaning for how I live life in general.
There are so many moments with my kids where I don’t fully allow whatever is happening to be ok. It might be that they are being noisy and playful and I just find it annoying. But, if I am in the SR room then I allow it all in a different way. I embrace it and go with it and then it feels so much better. I feel so much better. My intention going forward is to allow those moments, to let go into those moments more fully, to embrace them instead of holding some of me back in annoyance while trying to pretend otherwise. I want to let the annoyance go. Or if I can’t, then I want to move out of the situation more cleanly and clearly. (Admittedly, while I have been writing these words I have been more than happy to let Carl deal with the screaming children.)
Another experience that seems to have profound implications was when the girls and I made gingerbread cookies yesterday. I had promised them that we would so even though I didn’t particularly feel like it, I started the process. The kitchen was such a mess already that there wasn’t adequate space for everything. The dough didn’t quite cooperate at first so it took longer to be ready. The girls were impatient. It was not the completely easy and joyful experience I had hoped for or that I imagine happens in other houses where parents are more relaxed about mess and control than I am. But, we made the cookies anyway. They are yummy. They are beautiful. I muddled through. So even if I can’t always be the relaxed person I dream of and even if my kitchen is almost always a mess and even if the kids are impatient and even if the process wasn’t what I envisioned, we still did it. Maybe that is life. It isn’t always what we think it will be. We don’t always have the circumstances we think we need before embarking on a project. But we can do it anyway. It can yield results anyway. Have I ever been the perfect Son-Rise mom (in my estimation of what perfect would be)? Rarely. Have I still run a Son-Rise program from start to now ebbing evolving finish? Yes. Has Sarah been thriving more than she would have if we hadn’t done all that we have? Yes. Is my kitchen still a mess? Yes. The cookies are good. We are good. The kitchen and life are a mess, a beautiful mess, and it can all happen anyway even when I can’t control it all. Even if I can’t let go of everything and fully go with the flow.
Last night before I had decided what to cook for dinner both kids assured me that they wouldn’t like it. Then they snarfed it. It’s nice when it goes that way.
I hope you all have happy holidays and snuggly warm rejuvenating moments. May we all sit with ourselves gently and kindly, accepting the gifts of love, friendship, and help that abound, even while we are surrounded by messes.
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