I must admit that I’ve recently discovered a new past time. Sewing. It’s new to me, but the history of sewing is rich in the South and old cultures. Today, simple thread and fabric are found on the latest catwalks and in your grandma’s trunk. 

After nye 15 months of restless nights, crying spurts, and refilling milk—we are ending all insanity!

You see, when you are expecting a lil one they tell you about the loss of sleep. They tell you about the waking every four hours, the zombie-like tomb of endless nights you will enter. But they never tell you it will last over a year!

Last night was the last straw. Instead of the usual 4 hour span of whining from the crib, I found myself up every TWO hours.

“Wah. Wah. Mamamamamammma!”

I peek open one eye.

I stumble to the crib.

I grab the toddler cup.

I pour the milk, slopping it over the edge onto the table.

I grab the toddy from the crib, and place him in bed– because that’s the only place he’ll fall asleep after dark.

I lay there. I lay there. I sleep.

“Wah. Wah. Mamamamamammma!”

ENOUGH!

I can’t take it any more.

Lord, I love him. You know I do…. but after enduring 15, fifteen, fifteen, months of INSANITY!??! Seriously?

…..

Tonight I am no longer MAmamamama. I am Colonel SleepAllNight. Let me tell you, baby boot camp hasn’t seen anything yet.

You see, I absolutely love psychology. Some aspects are the workings of the mind, nature versus nurture, most recent discovery of biological versus psychological (e.g., Seligman, Walker, Rosenhan, 2008). And yes indeed it is so that my most profound interest of the mind is the acquisition of learning. I love to learn about learning. I want to know what synthesises all processes of mental apathy into one unique transition of memory.

However, something new has again sparked my interest. A new twist of the cognitive model. I now find myself yearning to define the root of all evil, the dispair of disorganization, the secret to a healthy mind, body, and spirit.

Although I’ve read many philosophic viewpoints on existentialism, realism, and socratic methods of whole-being wellness, I’ve never really put two and two together until I started studying Mary Carlomango’s philosophy: “Secrets of Simplicity.”

This divine sense of self established by “simplifying” one’s life is done in a way that eliminates excess stress, the need for materialistic objects, and wasted time. Carlomango’s theory is based on various Western philosophic practices (Buddhist Lao-Tzu, Henry David Thoreau’s modern movement of voluntary simplicity). I agree with the majority of findings in her research on seeking voluntary simplicity in a maneagble manner. However, there are some adjustments to be made on my insight on the study of learned versus genetically acquired behaviors on the setbacks of disposition.

Unfortunately, I don’t believe that her tools described in her book are realistic in terms of the newcomers to self control and self identity of the human soul. I believe that in order for one to simplify their life to discover and live by teachings of value and inner peace, a rigorous therapy must be developed and practiced.

In conclusion, my new idea is to create a wellness center for the mind, body, and spirit. In this peaceful center, teachings of physical, mental, and spiritual well-being will be available to those in search of a better self. The three will exist in harmonious sequence, without contradicting philosophies like found in many practices and physical instruction courses of today.

A compilation of modern yoga, group/couple/individual mental therapy, and offerings of spiritual knowledge and growth and development at one peaceful institution.

Now that’s what I call simple.

You see, I had strangely ran several errands yesterday: three mall store stops, Baskins, Hobby Lobby. All went very swell. The bug was pleasant and had not one outbreak, whimper, or hurling cry. In fact, several clerks and mother shoppers commented on the delightful behavior my son was (ever so oddly) keeping.

To ask for two days in a row of good behavior was rather selfish and somewhat tempting, after recieving a taste of what the joys of mother-son outings good bring. Instead of counting my blessings for the day before, I decided to take another swing. Daring you say? Let me correct you; I believe the word you are looking for is ignorant. How foolish could I be to believe God would grace me with a two for two no hitter?

First, it was off to the good ol’ USPS to mail a flat rate (which I must say is the greatest thing since fried bread–any weight, 50 states, one flat rate). I should  have known what the inside of the building had in store after I dropped the package and reluctantly did not break anything inside after playing musical chairs with the locked doors all while holding bug and my spankin’ new purse I purchased on my outing the day before. I should have known I was a gonner right then and there, but a package must be mailed so I carried on.

There I was inside the post office, behind seven people in line for one open attendant, with my box on one hip baby on the other and my purse slung around my shoulder…. Now that’s what you call a woman! At the moment I didn’t realize the dignity of my stature, but now looking back I understand why folks in front of me let me cut ahead three places. ”Thank you.” Only four places to go! Three. Two. One…. and the show started.

I heaved my package onto the USPS desk. My son, who was already fussy from waiting on my hip, decided he wasn’t waiting any longer. He wiggled himself loose from my grasp, off my hip, down my leg, and off he went ran. As soon as it happened, I saw my pride from yesterday whisk into the memory of history. As he tore through the post office like a two foot tall tornado, I tried to remain calm. I stood at the counter (as if the crowd of anxious customers wouldn’t notice he was my son) and awaited for my bill. I thought “surely he can’t really hurt or be hurt by anything in the Post Office?!”…. “That’ll be $15.20 ma’am, and I think your son is climbing in the display.” 

Complete humiliation…. I handed the man my money, walked back around the counter, ducked under the line rope, dodged glares from the onlookers, and headed toward the “Eee Wee Bah Blah Bee BAHA” that was coming from the empty cubby slot in the Flat Rate display. I carefully jerked him out by his tiny shoes, and wrangled the screaming 13 month-old out the door and into the car.

I then decided to make the USPS my first and only stop of the day.
As I drove the road back home, looking at him sleeping in his carseat through my rearview mirror the only thought that crossed my mind was: “Man $15.20 was so worth it.”

Just another day of motherhood.

Here are some awesome finds:

Lynyrd Skynyrd Toddler Shirt

From Kitsel.

Lap Shoulder Tee for Infants.

3-6 months in black

12-18 months in graphite

22.99

Outlaw Onsie

Babies Rawk