A Million Little Pieces

It's so easy for me to escape into sarcasm and sardonic musings. It's a habit I want to break, because I do see beauty in life at times, like the flowers on my kitchen window, Milan's giggles and the peacocks at the Arboretum. It's just that my natural inclination is toward something absolutely nasty, like "A Million Little Pieces." I cannot put it down. I cannot stop mocking everything. I cannot stop judging myself and others. But I'm learning. It's spring, time of renewal after all!

Turn on, Tune in, Drop out.

Endorphins have been racing through my head for three straight days and as good old Dr. S. says, enjoy it while it lasts. Don't think of the future. In fact, I have his official permission not to think about the future. So I feel like a giggle, heehee, hohum, twahee.

The Write Thing

I just looked at the blog of a friend who's a writer. A real writer. She's so good. I feel jealous. I'm just a writer in my mind. I used to need to write to live. Now all I need is coffee, naps and my head examined once a week.

Babel

Milan can say buddha, bear, Bob, pfui, wauwau, ticktack, schnulli, schmutz, mama, papa, oma, shoe, fish, bye.

Feeding the B(r)east

Someone is going to want to kill me for this, but I do not think that breastfeeding per se is a beautiful thing. It is a healthy thing, a bonding thing, a nutritious thing and something very cool to experience for both baby and mama. But I don't think it needs to be fussed over. It just is. Nature at work. Like walking and cuddling and pooping and playing itsy bitsy spider. So today, I was confused by my weird reaction to a breastfeeding mama. She was sitting on a chair with her shirt pulled up and each of her 2-year-old twins was drinking from a breast. They just stood there and sucked. Then one of them let go, ran away, and wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he did so. I cannot get that moment out of my mind.

Yogi Fashion

At the Mount Washington Self Realization Fellowship today we walked into the administration building. They have a huge painting of Paramahansa Yogananda in his later years, dressed in his typical orange gown, long hair flowing, and, oddly, leopard fur slippers. Milan got all excited, walked up to the painting, pointed at his feet and went "Shoes. Shoes. Shoes."