The Phoenix: Epicuriousmothering Rising

It's amazing how having a big old stressers changes everything.  Things you thought were super important seem so silly and things I took for granted seem so precious and important.  I feel like I've been blind, and now I see. I was listening to one of my friends talk about weight loss and how to get her extra five pounds off and how often she things about it.  I looked down at my belly and thought, I can't remember the last time I even thought about my body or my wrinkles or my sagging places.  With a whole new set of much more pressing worries, physical appearance has gone out the window.  Not completely, of course; I still want to be look my best, but my best has changed.  My best is smiling.  My best is a good day where I can easily smile and laugh.  My best is a daily prayer of gratitude that we've gone another day healthy and well. Today, that changed.  Finn's been complaining of a pain in his leg since May and for about a week, he walked with a limp.  We had h

  We are going on ten months of looking for a job.   Last September, after a rather horrid ten months, John got the boot.  It was oddly and rather unfairly done, but a great relief to all of us.  Working at that company had become a puzzle that grew harder and harder each day until it was in fact, impossible.  The stress of it took a wild toll on John's mental and physical health.  By the end, he was neither eating nor sleeping.  He had strange episodes of racing heart and an inability to tell what was real and what was imagined.  I sat him down and told him I would use up every penny of our retirement and sell the house if it meant he could stop working in that environment.  And it may take all that.  And I still won't regret it.   When I feel rather sorry for myself, I remember what life was like for him a year ago and then I don't feel sad that I am once again digging through my closet to find a new way to wear old things.   In fact, there is part of me (small though it

  Just like this little bee getting getting all sorts of good pollen from this tiny flower, I'm fining courage all over the place . . .often in the most unlikely places  So one of my friends in my writing group sent me a little re-write of Jane Austin's Pride and Prejudice -- from Darcey's point of view.   She also sent the original chapter she was writing POV (point of view) off of so we could compare.  I thought I downloaded her chapter and happily began editing, marveling at how well she captured Jane Austin's voice.  But she had some places she could tighten and a few sentence that were confusing and needed to name the speaker or protagonist.  It wasn't until I was nearly done with the chapter that I discovered I had been editing the original.   I had been editing Jane Austin's  Pride and Prejudice . I sat back and laughed until my sides hurt and then got up and did a jig. You may wonder if I had lost my marbles?  The answer is probably . . . but also, I edi

It's been a year.   I'll sum it up by saying that food no longer tastes good to me.   The last time that happened, I had lost three pregnancies in a row and John had lost and found a job and we had moved three times. The feeling is very similar.   There have a been a lot of losses or near losses.  Enough that when the phone pings with a text or vibrates with a call (I long ago turned off the ringer), I take a deep breath and think, you can do this .  More times than not, I need that deep breath. I am probably in the second half of my life and I feel it.  47.  My children are nearly grown.  My house is established.  Our bank accounts don't fluctuate like they used to. I don't go to the store and dream of being able to buy things.  I walk into my closet and wonder what I can do without.   I feel the finality of my existence and I wonder . . . what do I really want out of all this?   For book club, we read A Million Miles in a Thousand Years .  It's about re-writing o

Faith.  Publishing, starting a business, growing a garden . . .it takes a lot of hard work and FAITH The lyrics of that song have been running through my head all weekend and if you could see my face, I am living it.  What have I done?   I've done something I am not prepared for, I have little/no experience, and I have grave doubts about my ability to see it through . . . eek! Sounds like having a baby doesn't it?   But no, I did not do that.  My children are now doing that (and holy hannah, are they producing winners!). What I did was finally publish my Master's Thesis (that I defended seventeen years ago), in preparation for publishing the trilogy I've been working on for the last four years. It's my first baby and I loved it and I'm so proud of it-- The Confusing and Miraculous Life of Kate James .  And my other three?  Well they are three stand alone books about three different generations.  There's a little drama, a little mystery, a little magic, and a

I have always said, “life and death” but never “death and life” until my mother died.  Now, I think of it in this order—death and life.   I did not want to be there when she died.  I thought it would be so hard and so painful and maybe too much for me to deal with.  But it wasn’t.  It was beautiful, sweet, and almost too easy.  One minute she was taking slow, breaths and the next . . .never came.  She slipped away from us but it didn’t even feel like she was gone.  Her shell, her body, wasn’t working, but her . . .my mother she was with us.  She was free from all the hard—and she’d had a hard life full of health challenges.  It felt joyful.  I know this cannot always be the case, but for her, I imagined her flying around us, young, healthy, strong, emotionally whole, and full of the truth that she had lived this amazing life and it was over and she didn’t have to hurt or worry or fear anymore. Of course we cried.  So so many tears.  A migraine full of tears, but I would say most of the

I have Hero every Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings from 8am-11.   I get to Henry and Chloe’s house to find Hero usually ready, dancing on her tip toes so excited to go with me.  She picks out a pair of vans (no matter what she’s wearing) that John bought her when she was three months old (they still don’t fit her) and she starts yelling, “Bye-bye Mama, bye-bye Baba (dad in Chinese), Bye-bye Zuzu, Bye-bye Fae-Fae (Alfie),” as she leaves—or on some days she needs to give everyone kisses—on their lips.  If the babies faces aren’t angled right she grabs their cheeks and moves them so she can literally suck the air out of their lungs.  I am a horrible grandmother because it makes me laugh my head off! Then we drive up to my house with Hero reciting all the people who live in our house over and over again.  When we get home (these days without anyone there—she is VERY disappointed that Finn and PIper aren’t there) we have snacks, dance to Selena Gomez and Black Pink’s “Ice Cream” (at le