Present Expertise

Childhood, Mental Health, Other Poetry, Parenting, Relationships No Comments »

Hey there 🙂

I am still digesting all that I heard in the audiobook The Conscious Parent by Dr. Shefali Tsabary, which I finished two days ago – and I am already mainlining her second book The Awakened Family on Audible!  

She talks about children being masters of living in the present moment, and how this is an absolute GIFT to their parents (if only we saw it as such).  It is scary when I view my kids through her eyes…but it can only make me a better mother and person, right?! 

 

I watch you revelling in your inner world

And wonder how mine splintered off so far;

The beauty that you witness all around

The doors leading off that you see ajar…

Youngest, Legoing Eldest leading me higher

Forgive me for my fearfulness and pain

In not reaching yet who I need to be,

Thank you for all the ways you display grace

And guide me home, through storm clouds, towards me.

 

 

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Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Smoke

Mental Health, Other Poetry, Parenting 2 Comments »

Hello!

I was pondering where my niche may be, today.

All this journaling and thinking has made me crave the cigarettes I gave up for good in my late twenties.  I’m sure that this is significant and means I should keep probing 😉

 

In imaginary smoke

I puff out all

The indignities.

 Woman smoking in band t-shirt

Part of me still insists

I look cool in these shades.

 

In my head, it’s purple dusk.

(Those sunglasses rendered useless).

 

Enigmatically I stand:

In a long coat,

Hair in a quiff.

 

Back here, in reality,

Another school day begins.

 

[Pic is from here]

[I am currently journaling (and writing poems) around prompts from The Year Of You: 365 Journal Writing Prompts For Creative Self Discovery by Hannah Braime – Kindle ASIN: B076Z6Y5L9]

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Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Balance

Mental Health, Other Poetry, Parenting, Relationships No Comments »

Hello 🙂

This foray came to me while pondering ‘balance’ in my journal:

Person on a tight-rope over a canyon

 

Which scale should I measure from?

What fool would proclaim balance –

In any form –

Lives here?

 

This photograph is propaganda:

There’s no telling where our minds were

When we posed for this.

 

A decade ago

Was a different skin.

It began to peel

As my stitches healed.

 

Those surgeons pulled out multiple lives;

Sliced through more than meat.

 

The scar is growing fainter,

Subsumed by metamorphic grace.

 

[Pic is from here]

[I am currently journaling (and writing poems) around prompts from The Year Of You: 365 Journal Writing Prompts For Creative Self Discovery by Hannah Braime – Kindle ASIN: B076Z6Y5L9]

 

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

The Ache

Other Poetry, Parenting, Relationships No Comments »

Falling awake

The ache, the ache;

Every mistake

The ache, the ache.

 'BE'

Your noise follows me

To the ends of my tree,

I look down and I pray for release;

So far away

The dark close to the day

Even then, this onslaught will not cease.

 

Falling awake

The ache, the ache;

Wisdom intake

The ache, the ache.

 

I hear all your pain

In your thunderous reign

And I ‘get’ that you’re reflecting mine;

But I cannot deal

With relentless appeals

Don’t you see there’s a creative line?

 

Falling awake

The ache, the ache;

Barriers break

The ache, the ache.

Buddha figurine, meditating 

I’m supposed to sit still,

Study each bitter pill,

Emerge stronger, on some higher plane;

Not react to the fuss

(All this ‘trivial’ stuff)

That somehow gets stuck in my brain.

 

Falling awake

The ache, the ache;

Pathetic fake

The ache, the ache.

 

My eyes stuck on the prize

Shrugging off this disguise:

There’s a Wonder Woman in this dust.

I just wish I had known

‘Fore these babies were born –

But I needed their guidance to trust…

 

Falling awake

The ache, the ache;

Internal quakes

The ache, the ache.

 

Falling awake

The ache, the ache;

Too much at stake

The ache, the ache.

I am really being affected by listening to Dr. Shefali Tsabary’s book The Conscious Parent on Audible.  I feel important (and long overdue) changes are afoot 🙂

(Don’t delve into Tsabary’s work without hankies, a journal/notebook and a willingness to look your demons straight in the eye.  You have been warned!!)

[Pics are from here and here]

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Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Player?

Childhood, Mental Health, Other Poetry, Parenting, Relationships 2 Comments »

Hi 🙂

Today I was to ponder how work and play are defined in my world, using my journal.  The lines are somewhat blurred in my life at the moment!

The more I acquaint myself with the updated neuroscience in Steve Biddulph’s Raising Boys, the more I realise this dynamic may not be changing much for the next 20 years or so 😉  Hopefully I’ll have two wonderfully healthy and well-adjusted young men toasting my 60th at the end of it, however…

 

Blue eyes and brown

They hate coming down

From their rooms to the sound of our beeper.

(It heralds goodbye)

On the landing they lie

One protesting, one feigning a ‘sleeper’.

Youngest on scooter and Eldest walking

 

With fake snoring aside,

And debates all been tried,

They succumb to inevitable hurry;

Twisted-heel socks put right,

Shoes with matched feet inside:

We grab coats, bags – then ‘cross paths we scurry.

 

On my way home to food

(Mind a little unglued)

I have Spotify feeding me soundbites;

They balloon in my brain

‘Til I don’t feel the same –

Potential now reaching for new heights.

 

Through the vacuuming gigs

And the laundry bin digs

There are YouTube, and Audible goodies.

(Or I’ll turn on the news

While some stitches accrue,

And I sample ‘craft-angst’ with my cookies…)

Youngest racing Eldest to go and hide painted rocks!

 

Back with youngest again

All the questions begin,

As I size up his mood and his morning.

As we mosey on home

I field requests (and moans)

Witness his schoolboy self ‘terraforming’.

 

We do lunchtime and then

Giant cuddles [for men

Need this most vital act in their childhood;

And, being a huggy type

As I am, it feels right

To attempt this – no matter our mood]

 

Then with one sleepy spud

‘Buggied up’, and our ‘crud’

All slung over the handles, we move it;

Down to Eldest at school

(Where we try not to duel

While I dole out the snacks, with good spirits)

 

After dinner, laundry –

An anecdote or three –

It is time for the playroom clean-up;

Daddy comes home and helps,

I claim time for myself

And do blog stuff o’er milky tea cup.

 

Homework done now, with dad,

It’s father-time for the lads

And this is where duff-ups ensue;

I emerge from my dreams,

As peace rips at the seams,

(Daddy needing a backup or two)

 

There are cuddles and tears

Talking-round of jeers,

Then those separate showers begin.

I hear stories anew

From each boy and we, too,

Speak about what tomorrow may bring.

 

Uniforms all laid out,

Suppered boys on the scout

For what tale they may now want to hear;

We cuddle and read,

Applaud every good deed,

Then it’s duvets tucked up to their ears!

 

Official adult time

Commences about nine,

But we might not have been fed just yet…

We navigate this

And settle to the biz

Of reclaiming creative outlets.

 

All too soon – call of bed

And that cold parent dread

That one child might scream out (around 3);

But still our eyes close –

“Que Sera…” we suppose –

For sure: as our tykes grow, here we’ll be.

 

Well, that turned out to be a little longer than originally anticipated!

It is nice to get our routine down on ‘paper’ like this, however, as it will all change in a few short months.  I am trying to slow the passage of time down in my mind and really savour the boys.  For all it will be liberating to have 6 hours’ worth of kid-free time, I know I will miss Youngest’s wee eager face telling me his insights around mouthfuls of buttered roll at lunch, anticipating what Eldest’s reactions will be to nursery scandals and deciding which games they’ll play after 4pm.

There are always a million things to be getting on with around here, and I have enough creative projects simmering in my head to keep me going until the kids are in their thirties (!) but it will still feel too quiet in the house by the second week of the Autumn term.

I hope Hubby keeps working from home at least two days from five, or I might have to start meditating in my silent surroundings and actually produce all those books I’ve always promised myself I’ll write one day…!

 

 

[I am currently journaling (and writing poems) around prompts from The Year Of You: 365 Journal Writing Prompts For Creative Self Discovery by Hannah Braime – Kindle ASIN: B076Z6Y5L9]

 

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Fill ’em up…

Other Poetry, Parenting, Relationships No Comments »

Hi!

Since yesterday I have been watching YouTube videos featuring Dr. Shefali Tsabary, who is a family psychologist…and she blows my mind.  It is like the universe is pulling no punches whatsoever. The Impact Theory video where Tom interviews her popped up in a long line of Mel Robbins recommendations (I still love listening to Mel when I need a butt kick) and as I had never heard of Dr Tsabary, I clicked through…

I do feel that there is an impish spirit that likes guiding me around the internet.  I spotted Hubby’s profile on a dating site’s match list 13 years ago, but only the once – after the site had randomly reset some of my search criteria for me – let’s not forget 😉

I have also received my updated version of Raising Boys by Steve Biddulph (another family psychologist) in the post today (a well-timed ad on Facebook led to that purchase!), so expect some ponderances on parenting over the next wee while! 

My journal prompt for today asked me to think about what I love to do, and I answered ‘reading and learning’, so it all fits in nicely.

The poem below is a partial digest of my watching Lewis Howes’ interview with the good Dr T.

My words came to me in the shower, then were scribbled hastily before I did the school run!

 

All of these ancestors

Spinning in their graves,

Light years away

But still you’re their slave.

 

Newborn crying

We talk all this up

As if walking out is bad,

Proffering hymn sheets

Declaring God is sad.

 

Reality’s distorted

And still we’re running scared,

Our children are floundering

And wholly unprepared

For the barrage of dogma

That we all see fit to preach.

(As if we are the experts

And kids aren’t here to teach…)

 

I think I will probably lengthen and tweak this a bit as I get deeper into my study of my chosen psychologists’ wisdom. Gotta love a bit of therapy from the comfort of your own home, eh?!  Totally fascinating 🙂

 

[I am currently journaling (and writing poems) around prompts from The Year Of You: 365 Journal Writing Prompts For Creative Self Discovery by Hannah Braime – Kindle ASIN: B076Z6Y5L9]

 

[Pic is from here]

 

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

By Now

Mental Health, Other Poetry, Parenting No Comments »

Hey 🙂

Today was another lovely day, which we took with us to a beach on the Fife coast.  There is a craze at the moment for hiding painted stones for others to find and relocate to a spot of the finders choice.  We have been hunting around our local area, but had to hop over the Kincardine Bridge before we had any luck 😉 we discovered a lovely rock on the beach (from a nursery in those parts), and then Eldest and Hubby found three more beauties on their trek in the nearby woods. (Youngest’s legs were hurting, so I’d taken him back to the car for chat and cuddles)

The boys rehid the first rock on the beach, but have taken the other three home with us to plant wherever our next adventure takes us!  So grateful to the artists of these rocks, the boys loved looking at them.  We have painted some rocks too, but they are not varnished yet – must get onto that this week!

Youngest with a rock from the Daisychain Nursery Eldest with a 'Fife Rock' Eldest with a 'Fife Rock' Youngest with a 'Fife Rock'

 

My prompt for today was centred around whether I felt like I had specialised in any particular field during my life.  That somehow turned into a poem about measuring adulthood by deed…

 

‘They’ say that if, by forty,

You haven’t made the grade

At being fully functional

(Seldom adulting, in spades)

Then: “pressure’s off, it’s over!

You can relax now – just ‘be’!

You have lasted as a kiddie

Those grown-ups feel jealousy!!”

 

But what if you have avenues

You still want to explore,

Just woke up late, feel panicked,

Are left limping for the door?

The boys enjoying the beach

What if it isn’t that you aren’t

A fully fledged expert

At over-caring, worrying,

And slaying laundry dirt?

 

(Ok your cooking’s not that great,

Your house is pretty trashed,

Christmas seems to ambush you;

All your shoes are scraped and bashed…)

 

But you’ve a sense that destiny’s not ‘done’

It’s just biding its time,

Somehow this chaos that you’ve lived

Is fuelling the sublime;

That purpose and fulfilment may

Between the school bells lie,

A higher self just floating in

Forgiving, rainbowed, skies…?

 

[I am currently journaling (and writing poems) around prompts from The Year Of You: 365 Journal Writing Prompts For Creative Self Discovery by Hannah Braime – Kindle ASIN: B076Z6Y5L9]

 

 

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Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

 

Profession

Childhood, Other Poetry, Parenting, Relationships 1 Comment »

Hey 🙂

I am coming to this screen late, having spent all day endeavouring to keep the kids happily away from devices.  The weather has been glorious, which helped a lot.

Our boys have: ridden on their bikes and scooters, had time walking with a parent each, squabbled over helping me prep/stir/splop fruit muffins to be eaten after dinner, marvelled at the bumpy covers on the notebooks that arrived for them, talked a lot about how yummy fruit is and how excited they are to be promised smoothies tomorrow, helped the hatching dino out of its ‘egg’ that is slowly expanding in a glass of water…and the scallywags trashed the playroom together at least twice!

My journal prompt for the 6th of May asks me to ponder a career achievement I have made. This segued into the below:

 

Each baked-on crust

A perfect clust-

er of my frazzled deeds,

A tugged apron

(Strings frayed), a con, 

As out of chores they plead.

 

This signifies

My many “why?!”s

Are not far off the mark;

I turn and say 

(To my dismay)

“C’mon, let’s hit the park…”

 

It was a magical mystery tour with Eldest that I ended up suggesting in reality – he sometimes just needs to go wandering for a few miles, in order to get him in a better mood and away from bickering with his brother.

Eldest took me down the cycle path and across the main road, through a big field and over the stile to the canal towpath.  We walked homewards from there, loving the sun warming our backs while we watched all the lambs on the opposite bank calling for their mothers and snuggling in for milk.

Just before the final path down to our neighbourhood, however, Eldest spotted a steep shortcut up a grassy slope that would take us to the start of a bridge across the canal.  After a bit of briar negotiation, he made it up and was eager to explore.  I scrambled after him, and pointed out that it was already getting near dinnertime, and that we were so close to our usual path, etc.  Eldest did acquiesce, but his eyes slayed me and it was such a lovely late afternoon…

Over the bridge there were fields of sheep and cattle on both sides at first, but that soon gave way to a forested area, where our dirt path continued. Wooden walkways had been provided for rather marshier parts, and Eldest was both curious about and dismissive of these. I was loving the light play through the leaves and wanting to take pictures, Eldest kept pressing onwards!

Eventually, just as I was beginning to worry that we were a little lost and had maybe taken a few too many turns through the trees to remember our way back (!) we emerged into a housing estate.  I let Eldest lead me into a tangle of a few more windy pavements, but then we decided to stop and type a street name into Google maps to ascertain how far from dinner we had wandered.

It turned out we were in the next village to ours, and an estimated 29 minutes (1.1 miles) from home.  Eldest smiled and took my hand, and we discussed all the different types of housing stock we could see, how people laid out their gardens and what we would maybe try to take in on our next walk, as we headed for the long road down to the train station, and more familiar territory.

We’d left around 4.30pm and clattered in at 6pm – absolutely ravenous – to Youngest saying “Yaay! You’re just in time for tea!” and Hubby loading our plates!  (Luckily Youngest had been a little less adventurous and only asked to walk around the block with his dad…)

With a family chase-me stint in our street this morning, stories of two different expeditions to share over dinner, and homemade muffins to savour for dessert, I think this was a pretty fulfilling day for all concerned.  Who needs screens when you have sunshine and each other?!

*Still pats her lovely red laptop to ensure its loyalty…*

 

[I am currently journaling (and writing poems) around prompts from The Year Of You: 365 Journal Writing Prompts For Creative Self Discovery by Hannah Braime – Kindle ASIN: B076Z6Y5L9]

 

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Accumulative

Mental Health, Other Poetry, Parenting 2 Comments »

How do? 🙂

I have been thinking about what I deserve (and what I use) in my journal today.

 

I earned this –

A cup of hot coffee

In a quiet lounge, dishevelled by life.

 coffee in bed

The low thrum of discontent

Is purring in my lap;

Keeping one beady eye on the dust motes.

 

Pound signs accrue

In every creative thought –

I again swallow guilt with my beverage.

 

[I am currently journaling (and writing poems) around prompts from The Year Of You: 365 Journal Writing Prompts For Creative Self Discovery by Hannah Braime – Kindle ASIN: B076Z6Y5L9]

 

[Pic is from here]

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

What Remains

Childhood, Mental Health, Other Poetry, Parenting, Relationships No Comments »

Hiya

As much as I don’t want to put bad thoughts out into the universe and somehow magically bring them into being, I have very recurring worries as a parent.  The responsibilities are hard to switch off from, and my imagination can be a very dark place…

I struggle to get enough sleep overnight as my boys are restless sleepers at the best of times, but especially when they are having a growth spurt; which seems to follow closely on the heels of their birthdays!

Eldest has been having rather loud disagreements in his dreams (which he rarely remembers) this last week, and I am extra attuned to noises in the night at the moment with the boys only just over tummy bugs. Eldest is up really early because he becomes super hungry… I’m overtired and sleepy during the day just now, and relying on the odd nap with Youngest to buoy me whenever Hubby is around to collect Eldest from school.

The below came (in the early hours of today, while I listened to Eldest) from a nagging doubt of mine as I parent in this state…

 

The first thing I heard

Was the last sound he made;

As the breath escaped

Only my name remained.

And his body was warm

But the soul had not deigned

To wait for me.

 picture with a sky full of forboding

The blue lights

And the tears…

Cold tragedy.

 

That sleep I had resigned to stole my peace,

The price he paid will always be too steep;

My angel boy, adrift from mother’s arms,

Forsaken by my dulled panic alarm.

 

 

[Pic is from here

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!