Life is weird

So, as is generally the case, I'm a contradiction of terms...of actions...of words. Perhaps it is this consistent inconsistency that makes some people dislike me to at least some disagree, and others love  me intensely. 

I've started a new Instagram. I first intended for it to only be for my quilting, which I HAVE been doing like mad, and selling, which is cool...but it has regressed or expanded to include my children and fashion, and some food pics. But I love all that stuff, so why not? 

Want to view some of my quilt work? Check them out on Etsy:

www.etsy.com/shop/ItsSewRad

I do custom orders, but a limited number. Don't be afraid to ask. 

Life is fucking weird. 

A smell can transport us back a lifetime...a sound can render us paralyzed...a word can make us weep or laugh until our cheeks hurt. It's fucking weird. 

And wonderful. 

Sometimes I feel like Dorothy in the Munchkin Land...where everyone. Ones and goes quickly, only I realize now that it is I who come and go quickly, leaving others to feel uncertain, confused, and distrustful of me. I simply sometimes need time to myself. I seek the company of others, but my soul also needs solitude. 

Which is funny, considering my previous post about isolation. 

But I don't do well in a crowd these days. I tend to be quiet. I tend to observe more than participate...which isn't new, if I really think about it. Half the time I have no idea what to say and other times I have nothing to say. 

Honestly, the way my life is at this point is perfect for me. I have ample opportunity to be creative. My daughter is sleeping better and only nursing in the morning. My husband is as awesome as ever. My boys are doing well, after a very serious scare with my older son, which I refuse to discuss here. Let's just say a lot of assumptions and stereotypes I didn't know I harbored reared their ugly heads and the result was some much-needed humility on my part. 

The fact is, I don't have a fucking clue. I have no idea what makes a good mother. I have no idea how to properly discipline a child. Everyday I face successes and failures. Everyday I think I could have done better...don't we all? Perhaps THAT, that sense of determination and that hope is what makes a good mother. 

Yet it would be simplified with a handbook. Y'know? 

It's fun though, isn't it? Kids are awesome...and challenging, and at times a serious pain in the ass...but forever they have our hearts. 

As I sit here, listening to the Talking Heads and watching my daughter peel paper from a crayon, I realize how much I love...and I mean truly love being a mother. 

There is a part of me that wishes I could get a job outside the home (by could I mean within myself, not that I'm prohibited), and find that happy balance, like it appears others possess, but I don't want that right now. I want what I have. I'm surprisingly content. Not stagnant. Not lax, just content for the moment to push forward with what I'm doing. 

I'm learning that nothing matters and everything matters. It's all a ride and we can continue to stay on and enjoy it, or get off at anytime. 

Truly, life is a choice. 

I choose life. I choose me. 

I'm pretty good at being me, whatever craziness that entails. And it does get crazy. 

This balance I'm finding inside is even reflected in my eating habits. I'm no longer vegan. I even sometimes eat meat. I've learned that balance is the key...it's not in comparing this to that, to labeling this as bad and that as good...it's balance. It's being cognizant of what's happening, being conscious of what we put in our bodies....what and who we surround ourselves with. That's what matters. 

Just like reflecting on motherhood, I reflect on life...what did I do well today- how can I improve. This is what occupies my mind these days....that and shoes. 

Now I do not know if I'll ever find a balance there. ;)

I fell instant conflict inside myself where fashion is concerned. I've always viewed it as almost an art form that you can wear everyday. It's fun...but I hate feeling materialistic. However, I shop so much less often these days that I don't even feel that guilt anymore. 

I have no idea how I come off to others. I have no one around to tell me. I used to have people tell me these things....not that I asked. They'd say confident, intimidating, elegant, etc...things I never felt. 

Nowadays I don't have this...I have me. I don't have a husband taking pics of me, I don't have friends complimenting me or criticizing me. I have me. 

It's weird to realize how much stock I used to put in those things...those reviews. 

My journey toward balance (which I'm still on and will be for my lifetime), has led me to an almost bitter stage. A stage where I mostly feel like I don't care. I'm doing my own thing and enjoying it. I don't compare my life to others'. I just don't care in that way anymore. I know that things are never fully as they are perceived to be. 

I recently saw a couple who, if you didn't know them, you'd think they were totally head over heels for each other. I'm talking the disgusting mushy lovey stuff. However, I know she tried to fuck my friend up until just a short bit ago...and I'm talking relentlessly. This is a drastic example, but nothing is ever really as it is perceived to be. No one knows another person that well. Even married couples don't know each other completely. 

And it's all good. 

Anyway, I'm out. The little girl and I are off to the zoo.