...a snow storm.

Some days are quite simply much harder than others. Kind of like a swirling vortex of shit really. All the little things that you can normally deal with effortlessly all fly into your path at once and your capacity to cope is tested to its limits or beyond.

Yep. Today was one of those days. No major obstacles. Nothing earth shattering. Just a shit storm. Cause you know, a few snowflakes at a time are magical, but billions upon billions can bring a city to its knees. We had a real life blizzard here yesterday and I followed it up with my own metaphysical one today.

In the quiet of the waning evening of yesterday's blizzard I looked out my window to see the moonlight reflected off the snowbanks like billions of tiny diamonds. The branches of every tree enrobed in crystalline white. The quiet and stillness so profound. It was breathtaking. And in the quiet waning evening of my shit storm today my sweet nine year old squeezed me tight around the waist and told me how incredible I am. How there is no other mother on earth as fine as me. And on my outward breath I could see the diamonds in her eyes. I could see that the day long tantrums of my exasperating three year old were simply billions of synapses firing and that the beauty of that growth was revealing itself. I could see that the swirling vortex of all the people in our lives are
small blessings that serve to make our existence richer. And I was able to sit down and have a great conversation with my kiddo about the finite nature of patience.

And now all that's left is to curl up in the arms of my partner and remind ourselves why we chose to weather this storm together.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

...a leap.

Today seems like an appropriate day to be back here. Leap Day. The day we catch up. Make up for the imperfection of our calendar. The day we rectify our calculational deficiencies.

Today was to be significant in another way. Today I was hoping to be given part of my life back. To catch up... To leap. Today I had a date with Glen Sather. Or more specifically I had an appointment at the Glen Sather sports medicine clinic. I was hoping to get the news that I would be cleared for "combat". I wasn't. Four and a half months ago I suffered a temporarily crippling knee injury at roller derby practice (that's right - I'm a derby girl and that is another post all together). For weeks I hobbled around, I couldn't drive my standard car because it was my clutch leg and my knee had lost all bendiness, I barely slept because it hurt in every position and I watched my fellow fresh meat skaters pass their skills test and leave me in their dust. It was tough, scary and yet I found my way. Physio 3 times a week, ice, heat, ice, strengthening exercises, ice, doctors, MRIs, x-rays, ice... Its a new road. I have never been an athlete and figuring this shit out at 39 with two small children has been challenging. Some days all I wanted to do was kneel down to help my baby put her boots on. To be at her eye level and kiss her face. I found patience that I didn't know I had and a resolve that was reignited. And today I walked into that exam room with in my striped knee socks and taped up knee, holding the hand of my miniature moral support in a bumblebee back pack. All I wanted to hear was YES. YES, go hit those bitches. The answer I walked away with was not so affirmative and the statute of limitations on my patience has run out.