TGIF

I got all dressed up and ready to go get me a Blossoming Rose Tea just because that's exactly how I was feeling. It was one of those I didn't know I needed it moments. Something about a warm well named tea on a cold day warms my soul. And this week has been frigid.

Monday was one of those over productive days that made me feel bad for procrastinating so much every other day of the week.

Tuesday I napped and enjoy gifts of warmth. Which always go perfectly together. 

Wednesday I was swaddled in emotion and pasta. Another perfect pair! 

Yesterday I was making the trek back from a waddle up melancholy hill and wearing a striking blue eyeliner for the occasion. 

Today, finally I'm back to my "normal" self , feeling like I just sprouted another bud on the blossoming rose bush that is me.

One of the most refreshing feelings that come after a week of emotional cleansing is courage. To be in the middle of myself and my uneasiness. To look right ahead to the new and better version of myself and welcome the growing pains.

After a teary talk with my love I realized I can't fix everything with rap music and tasty treats. Sometimes whatever feelings I can't get away from , need simply to get out! To be cried out, talked or walked out. (ps. Danced out is always a favoured means of energy expulsion)

This weeks particular emotional congestion was blocking me creatively and burying me with my own strength. The power my mind has to invent and feel was creating obstacles for me to run a course through. I'm not really into athletics but I know what I can handle. At least I thought so, until suddenly I couldn't handle the daily to do's in my simple day. If only I could ask Julius to do the dishes or make me a coffee..Or just sleep for eight hours...

Maternity leave has often felt like I left Earth aboard a house shaped rocket ship with a three month old as my captain. It's easy to complain after the sixth vomit stained t-shirt and the fourth 45 minute nap. But sometimes it's hard to admit that I need a break. I got this far , it's my responsibility and it's my future. My mom did it , her mom, my cousin , my grandma, basically every mom ever.

For some people its school, sports, their families business or a happy relationship. It can be too easy to complain to ourselves about not being the super achieving human we thought we'd be by like last Tuesday at 12:52pm.

LET THAT GO. Get rid of that. EW.

It may just be exactly what's stopping you from seeing you are the achieved version of human you are supposed to be right now today. We're all on the way to being the Me that will come six years or seven hours from now. AND it never stops. So take breaks, re-fuel but don't stop (beliiiieeeeeeve-iinngggg) because if anything was ever meant to be easy it was probably too good to be true OR just a fragment of the big complicated beautiful mosaic that is life.

*DEEP BREATHS*

okay, until next week
Keep your head up and stay on track .

Born to Party

Tomorrow I'm celebrating a birthday! Birthdays are my favourite time of year and tomorrow will be a very special celebration because it's going to be my first surprise party. The pressures on. Yesterday I cleaned up , today I'll stock the mini fridge and make punch. Tomorrow decor will be hung and I'll prowl over the basement stairs like a grizzle bear around her young. The hardest part will be getting the surprisee to leave the house while the surprisers come in.  I was not born tomorrow by the way, that would of course be difficult.

It's going to be a small and quaint siorée with just the neighbours and a co-worker. But I think my mama bear intuition started to growl when I went grocery shopping for party goods. How many plates will I need..will this be enough dip.. should I have more varieties of fruit...do the neighbours like olives?

I realized I was going through some sort of emotional frenzy when I started sweating at the check out. Every time I go shopping I swear to myself I will remember to bring reusable bags. Every time I go shopping I forget. Then as what I call a punishment I try hopelessly to carry everything to my car where the bags are waiting for me laughing. 

"Are you gonna be okay?"

...Thanks for asking Rebecca but damn it no..

"yeah I left bags in my car , I always do this."

*laughter*

"Are you sure?"

...maybe you could just hold my baby while I go get some bags?..

"For sure , for sure, I parked in one of those "mother with child" spots!"

The jacket came off, wallet was in hand and Julius held the cake in his lap. All I had to do was make it to the vehicle.

And of course I did effortlessly. Tokyo drifting past those people going in the entrance and out the exit. Who has time to obey door signs when there's fruit to cut and a cake to hide! As long as the automatic doors are opening I'm getting where I need to go. Baby by my side. I really couldn't have done it without Julius either. His presence adds this ticking time bomb effect to my shopping experience. He opened his eyes once during the expedition, I closed mine praying he wasn't about to poop. 

Right now sitting in my basement is a mini fridge stuffed with everything I bought except chips and cake. The cake is sitting on the passenger floor of my vehicle. 

May it be known to all. February 21, 2019. The first (and probably last) time I was ever so happy, to have the cold of winter. The chill has provided me with one more anxiety-less breath to breathe. Today at least.

Last but definitely not least I need to adorn myself for the occasion. 

Either a casual long sleeved dress or a pair of "party pants" with a simple shirt. Earring of course and maybe a little lipstick to seal the deal when the surprisee walks in on us all.  

If by 18:00 tomorrow this mission was successful I will self proclaim myself as party queen and swear to serve all in my kingdom with the best birthdays each year. 

If not I'll be blogging with embarrassment next week.

peace, love and party.

LOVE. (not just on valentines day)

My baby boy Julius will continue to grow up and one day be buying chocolate roses for someone he fancies. Until then he'll be presenting me with odd coloured surprises and questionable expressions.  He is my favourite person on earth and until April, I love him more than anything but Game of Thrones.

We spend our days attached by the breasts; nourishing each other naturally and in the closest of cuddles. Now that he knows a little bit more of the world around him, I am preparing to be the all wise and knowing Grandma. I'll be showing my grand babes Julius' last new born size diaper and using it to pat dry the tears of joy in reminisce of youth. 

How can such a chublicious little human, have scared me so much me before I knew him.  Being a Mum wasn't quite on my bucket list, thankfully I got the chance of a lifetime to be one. Julius coo's at me and I am so certain he has said I love you. Or maybe it is an echo from me saying it as I kiss his head and hands and feet and chin . And neck.  If not Julius' first I love you I do have another Valentine's love to cry over. 

Last Sunday night, going to bed without a bedtime story was being tried by a jury of 3 minors. It was minutes to 9 and our Monday morning was only hours away. The Saturday night shenanigans still burning at our feet, but we had to put on our work and school boots by 6:30am. 

The staircase is painted with a baby blue sky and marshmallow soft clouds. Until the very top, where night is illuminated with glow in the dark sticker stars, on a deep dark blue attic cover. When the kids get to the top of the stairs I holler "Tell me when you're ready". Finger on the trigger , counting down 3, 2, 1... ok now". 

"Goodnight!"

"Goodnight Raisha" 

"I love you."

*gasp*

"Uh-eyeeii I love you guys too" 

*floats to bed with flushed cheeks and a flutter*

My step babes are my other halves percentage of love that isn't changing Julius's diapers. Or putting notes in lunches.  We're celebrating the anniversary of when we first met in a couple months. And this was our first I love you. 

I was crying tears of love.  I rowed into bed, squeezed my pillow dry and was saturated with pre-slumber dreams of the rest of our lives. There's going to be first's for our family to frolic in for years!! Julius first steps , the first to graduate, first date , who can not fight each other in the car to grandma's first. 

Forever is a long time and I'm so so so great full love has no expiry date. With the amount of lint I pick from Julius' toes and other in-betweens , I'd like to appreciate the not so whimsical parts of love too. Like laundry and emergency haircuts in sticky situations. I feel very comfortable living in breast milk soaked pj's and being nurse assistant to a 5 year old. Because teddy bears get tooth aches too! 

Watching these children get a year older for the rest of my life is more than I could ever wish for on cake candles. 

Happy First I Love You's to all and to all a good Valentines.  

xoxo Raisha's World

BYOV (be your own valentine)

Continuing the fashion of digging pack into my written past , I pulled my poetry journals out of my desk and began reading The Series of Poetic Events. For as long as I can remember I’ve used writing to unload . For better or for worse. Going back and reading my woey teenage poetry seemed like it was for worse. Ahh the coming of age scrutiny that is learning oneself and the world at the same time and never getting a grip. 

Just in time for the dreaded Valentines mush, the first poem in my oldest journal was written February 13th , accompanied by a sketch of a human heart , it reads;

If my mouth spoke in rhythms

And my heart beats were words

If rocks could for a day

Soar up and above the birds

If I held you with my eyes

And my body closed with your goodbyes

Than the waves would be ever so still

Against the sands strong will

My world’s been turned upside down by you

And the hardest part is wondering

If you feel it too.

WOOOOOOOOOW. 

Now I just thought about how Aaron would react to this .. it’s not about him …and I can’t remember who it would have been about. 

The last thing written in this journal is extremely painful and only three lines long. 

I thought I was going through a self induced writers block last year. The phrases and themes were waltzing around my head but I couldn’t turn them into anything. I say self induced because I wasn’t giving myself time. Time to sit down and write or time to love myself enough to be motivated by my own creations. 

The beautiful thing about being a Mum is I get to see what the virtues of time and love created so naturally. Then comes the responsibility of ensuring I continue too nourish that creation with the virtues I posses. I want my little man to grow up seeing me express my talents confidently so he will have a bravado that will carry him to the finish line of everything he starts. 

I re-read my most recent poetry journal often because it is basically the cave drawings of a me that lived freely in my own world. Aka the last accounts of me as a single woman ..

Single lady life meant being selfish in the pursuit of self love. I was my everything and it was daunting and nurturing because I was becoming strong. With Valentines Day coming up I know a lot of people are more provoked than they are passionate. As much as I love to write about love, I’d love to remind people to be their own valentine!

Stay up all night, finish that assignment and feel good about your relentless journey with knowledge. Enjoy a bubble bath till you prune! Take the time to learn a new recipe and enjoy the flavours you created. Leave the kids with a baby sitter or the husband and go enjoy a fancy Starbucks drink. SLAP YOUR OWN ASS AND SAY “DAYUM I LOOK GOOD”

Well in closing  I might as well share two favourite short poems I wrote in my “recent journal”

Written the day before I met Aaron, following a fight a I had with a family member:

How do you expect me

NOT to feel?

I give life.

It comes naturally

From within me.

I am of course a woman.

Written after looking for a receipt:

October 20 2017 

“Oh god.. I spent all that time looking in the wrong place”

Recycle vs garbage.

LOOK WITHIN AND MAKE THE RETURN TO LOVING YOURSELF THIS VALENTINES DAY. 

Love,

Raisha