On the mend

Five days after the attempted triple saukau (we need Peggy fleming ice-skating lexicon) I am on the mend. My original bath idea was to create this blog with a theme something like..."when Mommies skin their knees" ie what happens when the chief planner and bottle washer goes down? Well, after a fluffed up moment of self-pity I realized, brace yourself, the world actually continues to spin without me propping it up on my index finger like a globetrotter showing off...My darling 9 year old actually CAN feed herself, draw a bath and even clean up her room! So she has been listening all these years after all. What has been most remarkable is the twinkle of independence in her eye as she takes charge of the chores...it warms my heart and reminds me how hovering as a parent will never work. The trick is how to keep her engaged long after Mommy's wound has healed

Birth of Bath Chat

What kind of name is that, one might ask...well, as a busy Mom, bath time has been both sanctuary and creative time for myself and Maeve, my 9 year old daughter. We use the end of the day ritual as a calm setting where the eucalyptus and lavender vapors relax us and enduce conversation about the day. We have been know to create poems there, make up songs or even characters like Madam Babushka and her Russian Wolfhound wolfie. 

I'm a single mom in the 21st century, struggling for balance and I grab any quality time I can for her, and for me. Oddly enough, the bath is also a muse for me when I am there alone. As my body melts into  the heat, my brain starts buzzing with ideas, mainly for writing...plays, poems, silly songs are born and then disappear down the drain at the end as I never write them down. Last night I promised myself to start bringing the I-Pod in with me so I can at least record the thoughts and can write them down later. The idea for this blog managed to avoid the drain and has actually come to fruition.

Why now? Well, I am laid up in bed with my 3rd leg/foot injury within  4 years. THey have all forced me into crutches and a helpless state as a mom. In the past I have slipped into quasi-depression as I realize I have lost control of the spinning world that I maintain. Last night in the tub, I was looking for the muse to send me inspiration so I would stop feeling sorry for myself and just get on with it! So what  if I have to spear laundry off the floor with my crutches and shove the basket down the stairs and actually ASK someone for help with it?