A Comfy Kind Of Restless

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 60^th 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’.

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…)

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]

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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!

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!

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.

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!

Hiya 🙂

Prompt: a poem that prominently features the idea of play.

TOO MUCH

A little freedom is a dangerous thing.

As sweet faces are kissed

And waved into rooms

Full of toys,

A hunger grows in me

For the dizzying array of opportunities

Crowding ‘round the gate.

There are buses into town!

(I could leave my phone on one, then

Take out all my money

And hop the next train (and the next) )

Or set up a life

As someone else,

Not far from here.

Deny I was me

If anyone asked.

My hair might look good green.

(Can one get a tattoo

At short notice…?)

“Nope, definitely not her…”

Joining a gym might be nice.

Or getting my ears pierced again…

I hear volunteers are wanted

For that shelter down the road.

Or should I just order a hot-tub

To arrive tomorrow?

The sun’s meant to shine…

Luckily: the kids are soon collected.

Folly averted – for another day.

[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!

Hello 🙂

Today’s suggestion was to write a poem where something big and something small come together.

How large my joints

On every finger seem,

Too clumsy 

To be gentle.

Yet here you rest,

A waking dream;

Sweet digits

In mine nestled.

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!

Hey there!

I have a second piece for #NaPoWriMo and it was put together before 9am!  All hail the power of the Easter holidays 😉

Today’s suggested theme was to explore voices within a poem.

CROSS WORDS

I saw you!

[So did I!]

You hit her!

[Did her die?]

She was bleeding!

[Did she cry?]

Why’d you do it?!

[Yeah Jake – why?]

I was angry

[Was you red?]

So I punched her.

[On her head?]

She deserved it

[What she said…?!]

I’m not sorry!!

[Uh-oh…! Bed…!]

GET UPSTAIRS!!

[Don’t tell dad…!]

SUITS ME PERFECT!!

[Jakey’s sad]

Less of the CHEEK!

[He not bad]

ARGH!! WhatEVER!

[He dust got mad…]

Mumma! Mumma…?

Jake my fwend:

That girl was

Hurting me AGAIN!

You no see her –

Her too quick –

But Jakey knewed her

Thw-owed that bwick.

Her taked my doose cup, too

(‘n’ said Jakey smelled o’ POO)

Her didn’t not give BACK my dwink

So Jakey PUNCH-ed her, I fink…

Is that true, Jake…?

[Tell on Jo!]

Yeah…she’s stupid.

[Way to go!]

Can’t think where this poem came from…

*Hears raised voices through the playroom door for the umpteeth time this morning*

[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!

Good Evening!

Gemma gave me a picture prompt on my Facebook sticky post today, and asked me to use Random Word Generator to conjure up all my words for this week.  Thanks Gemma!! 😀

(This particular waterfall is in Iceland, you can read about it here.)

As usual, I asked for five words initially to get my title; then changed the options so that I could have nine words to inspire my first instalment.

I chose ‘Departure Glance’ as my title because it seemed to have more possibilities than any other combination 😉

Then I got stuck in with today’s ‘big nine’:

Reptile   Turn   Relative   Judicial   Wander   Shower   Mixture   Dismissal

My Grandfather used to gather us all and tell us legends of the ‘reptile of the falls’. It had various abilities: could turn you to stone, or hypnotise you so you went back and murdered every relative you had; that sort of thing.  There seemed to be no judicial wiggle room for the creature – wherever he decided to wander in our lands, he was deemed to be up to no good.

As he continued to shower every impressionable young mind in the village with these exciting myths, Grandfather looked on inscrutably while we responded with a mixture of dismissal and a healthy respect for the waters’ edge.

There was a pilgrimage of sorts, taken by older teenagers with rebellion on their minds, once every year or so.  Mostly they came back disappointed and poured scorn on Grandfather’s stories.  But occasionally there was a tragedy that left us all a little unsettled, and looking over our shoulders more often when alone.

Join me tomorrow for Part Two!

Pssst!!! I need inspiration for the coming weeks – follow the instructions on my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to help me out and choose a picture and generator for me to play with!

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!

Hi!

We are on the penultimate post for this story already!  The picture from here is the one that Sandy (one of my regular readers on Facebook) asked me to use as inspiration for this week, and I again utilised her specified generator to decide what direction this part of the narrative would take. 

(Here are parts one, two and three if you missed any)

These were the words for today:

From Random Word Generator

And this is how I used them in my 20 minute writing session…

Rider   Fair   Distortion   Complete   Pursuit   Represent   Glimpse   Publication   Owner

I shudder when motorbikes pass by.  If the rider looks at me I hold my breath and wonder if they notice.  I always imagine guns and shattered bones and blood.  I see my once-fair hair soaked in scarlet, my life ending, illuminated by blue lights.  I know I shouldn’t give the universe such visual prompts, but I can’t help it.

I have my Father’s hair.  It doesn’t suit my dark eyes, but I live with the distortion.  The rest of me is Mother.  I am standing trying to make out what she saw in this complete fool of a man, and his pursuit of material gain.  Maybe she found his confidence refreshing? 

He doesn’t defer to any higher power, he’s all about the now: this moment, how he can squeeze it to produce the ultimate gain.  I can’t remember if he’s always been like this?  I know he was forever working late and that they rowed.  But I don’t quite understand how he came to represent the opposite to all I feel to be real in this world.

I idolised him once, my Mother said.  There are photos in the cottage of me sitting on his shoulders, but I feel that they are other souls.  I catch no glimpse of him today, that man with the adoring eyes and gentle hands.  Where did all our vulnerability go?

I think it left with mother…

Back at Lake Heaven I can forget he exists.  There I feel like Mother is in every leaf and stone.  She caresses my cheek by the water, and guides my hand while I write; whispering wisdom through the wood-smoke and always visiting in peaceful dreams.

The publication of my experiences did not mean I became the assured owner of them.  Instead it felt like sacrilege: an alchemist exposed.

How will this end?!  Come and see what the generator spits out for me tomorrow, and I’ll try and fashion something fitting 😉

(see my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to bagsy a week inspired by a picture and generator you chose)

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!

Hello 🙂

I again rolled nine kubes, this time to give me some direction for this penultimate instalment:

(Here are the links to parts one, two and three).

Sucker   Along   Return  Happy   Gorgeous   Brother   Water   Villain   Grace

Feeling like a complete sucker, I took Myla along to her third weekly lesson; wondering if this would be the last time she would semi-agree to return to the swimming baths…

Sarah again looked impossibly happy as she ushered me to my seat – but I had to concede that today she had a very good reason.

Kneeling by the pool was the most gorgeous man I have ever seen.  Somehow his beauty was able to transcend the ridiculously bright hooded top the complex made all of the instructors wear, and he didn’t look unnaturally pale, like the other guy had.

“He’s Franchie’s brother,” Sarah breathed into my ear, “quite a sight to behold, isn’t he?!”

“Yeah!” I managed to sigh.

“Must be all that Italian blood coursing through his veins.” Sarah went on, “If I wasn’t married…!” She giggled.  “I hear he’s single…”

Her nudge was forceful enough to make me thump into the glass of the balcony.  The Adonis looked up and actually waved at me.  It took me a second to realise that he was tending to Myla, and she had waved first, so he was just following her lead.

At least that meant my loony grin and big wave back was ok.

Myla also didn’t have her water wings on, I noticed with a jolt.  The lovely man was holding them!  How had he managed that?! (I suppose it is hard to see someone so beautiful as a villain who is trying to do you harm…?)

Myla was handed a pool noodle and seemed to take it willingly: returning to the water with a smile, and astounding good grace.

“I have to meet him” I whispered to Sarah; “he’s definitely some sort of god.”

Oooo, how will the kubes help me to wrap up this story tomorrow?!  Come visit then, and find out…!

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!

Hey There!! 

I am onto my third instalment of this story about Myla and her hated swimming lessons, already!  The first instalment is here, and the second is here; should you need to catch up 😉

I decided to elevate the ante a little today: as I have been rolling some easy joining words with my kubes, I thought I’d make my chances of getting harder-to-incorporate stuff greater by using nine instead of five kubes (that is also the number of words I use for my random word poetry)

I did, indeed, get a better mix today:

Bust  Flesh  Science  Etc.  Licks  Or  Flock  Home  Gentle

The next week was even worse. 

This time Myla hurt the knuckles on her left hand, apparently having had a bust up with a rough tile while she was trying to “hold on and push off” the way the instructor had told her to.

I joined her in the changing rooms as she gingerly touched the broken flesh and exclaimed about how sore it was.  This, she said, meant that swimming was definitely not for her.  Her argument went along the lines of there being an invisible force in the water that clearly didn’t like her: “a wave or sumfin, like at the beach…” either that or Rachel’s brother was working some Voodoo science on her “cos he knows I don’t like him”.

I helped her dress, and gathered up the obnoxious amount of paraphanalia her agreeing to step into the water seemed to demand (Peppa goggles, spare ‘wings’, the two towels “in case one dwops on the flo-wa”, etc…).

Back in the car, I tried to persuade her that doing ‘dog-licks’ every two seconds was not going to heal her hand very well, and that a plaster would be a better idea.  Or at least more hygienic.

I watched the startled flock of Starlings nearby take off home as Myla’s less than gentle reply reverberated through the open windows.

Why was I doing this to myself?!

I hoped she’d go to bed early (and her third lesson would pan out much better).

Two more instalments to go…what will the kubes do with Myla and her lesson loathing?! Hit me up tomorrow to find out!

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!