A Comfy Kind Of Restless

Hi!

Happy Tuesday, one and all!

Hubby had a dentist appointment to scoot to this morning, so he dropped me (and the kids) off at the school playground suuuuper early.  Youngest and I hugged Eldest and left him near his classroom door, then we sauntered off to the P1 entrance and twirled about a bit in the empty space (as one does).

Slightly dizzy (!), we went and stood near an untidy strip of grass that the children (mostly boys 😉 ) seem to gravitate towards before the bell rings.  We were treated to the sight of a black slug meandering through an area of dried mud between grass clumps, and soon became aware of a small shiny insect moving fast and seemingly on a collision course with the slug (hard to make out from my pic)

Youngest and I came up with some theories as to where each creature was going, and what they would be saying to each other; and we protected our small friends from any clumsy human who gambolled over and wondered what we were up to.  Youngest giggled with me, appreciating the silly voices I attributed to the slug and insect, and pitching in with his own versions.

We watched the insect hurry off, and the slug slide almost out of sight beneath a patch of weeds, before the bell rang.  It was oddly satisfying.

When I settled to think up a poem for today, my playground fun was obviously still on my mind 😉

A tiny beetle, bustling by

A slug encountered – so he cried

“Oh Mr Slug, I am so late!

Could you please quickly relocate?”

“What’s that you say?” asked Mr Slug

(His face in leaves that blocked his lugs)

“PLEASE MOVE!” said Beetle “on your way:

I have a lot to do today!”

Well! Beetle was then most perplexed

By Mr Slug’s slow progress!

                                             Next

That harried beetle huffed and sighed,

Tutted loudly, rolled his eyes…

“I see no shell upon your back

Must you go as slow as that?!

I have appointments I must keep –

Shopping to do before I sleep…!”

“Oh patience, Beetle! Can’t you see?                                       

Slugs are not made to move quickly!

I’m doing you a favour here –

Can you not run around my rear?!”

Beetle did just that, but he

Still did not seem to be happy

“Look here Mr Slug: you might

Think next time to be more polite!

Us little fellows do deserve

To have our point of view observed!”

Mr Slug could not even see

The beetle, but he quite believed

That humans might be justified

In not liking insects to thrive…

“And who are you to lecture ME

On acts of common decency??

I don’t wish to discuss further

Such nonsense; besides – look – our murder

Could come at any time now… Gee!

School playgrounds fill up rapidly!

All those children…! 

                                  Running feet

Could spell our end – let me retreat!”

“Fine!!” said Beetle, off he scrammed

(Dodging the shoes of Ed and Sam)

The slug harrumphed (and later ate

A nice big leaf to compensate)

Our pair seemed less grumpy in real life, but I brandish a licence here, don’t I…? 😉

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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!

Hello 🙂

Under this date, in Hannah Braime’s book, I was asked to journal about a cyclical pattern in my life that I wanted to change.  From that, came this:

I hear tick, tick, tick

As you pick, pick, pick –

All this freaking yarn

From your pet sheep farm –

And my entrails fall

In a colourful mess

For all to see

As resentment nests.

I get so tired

Leaden feet mired,

No rope in sight

(Though I’m wound so tight

That this last word might

Make my dark ignite…)

Incandescent rage

Burning up the page…

                     Hidden ‘midst a book

      In some shady nook…

But: “I can’t sit still

Feeding off this swill

For one more day

While the rest make hay!”

So: I upped and ran

Built another sham

In a different place

(Much to my disgrace)

‘til I fell awake,

Pointed out the fake,

Summoned up the clear

To banish my fears.

So, if you hear me now

On this frequency:

We should forge ahead

Campaign ceaselessly

For our right to say

Our truth easily,

Sort out all our wrongs

And live peaceably.

[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!

Hello!

I accept

I’m inept

(And a genius)

I accept

That I’ve kept

Too much back.

I accept

That you’ve wept

And I’ve rejoiced.

I accept

Things are swept

Out of reach.

I’ll improve:

Get my groove,

Turn this corner.

I’ll improve –

This interfluve

Will soon flood.

I’ll improve,

Worn smooth

By the waters.

I’ll improve:

Every move

Well thought-out.

The above came up when my journal prompt probed how I juggle self-acceptance and improvement.  It’s a mind bending question, because it is so tempting to see our flaws instead of crediting how far down the road we have come already, and honouring the journey appropriately. 

[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!

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…

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.

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 🙂

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

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!

Falling awake

The ache, the ache;

Every mistake

The ache, the ache.

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.

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]

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,

Did you see the television coverage of Prince Harry’s wedding to Meghan Markle?  I loved the way the couple looked at each other, and how they were obviously having intensely personal moments even with the countless spotlights on them.

I wish them all the very best for their life together 🙂

A train of thought billows

With a far-reaching veil,

Tethered by small hands.

Advancing,

The eyes of the world upon her:

Ascension to destiny

Is always walked alone.

[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!

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]

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!

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.

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!

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!