The morning rush and unexpected challenges set the tone for a day of shifting priorities. Despite disruptions, the opportunity to write brings deep gratitude. Reflections on motherhood, book choices, and encounters with nature reveal a longing for peace and connection. The day ends with a sense of mental fatigue and a wish for renewal.
Feeling quite rushed this morning despite getting an extra hour of sleep. The irony isn’t lost on me, I promise you. R slept until 7h despite numerous nightmares and crying out during the night. He has my curse: sleep talking, sleep grabbing, sleep screaming, sleep crying, night terrors. His future partner (should he choose one) will have to have conversations with a half-present soul. Many moons ago, I even made a Twitter account to chronicle my sleep discussions; it was short lived because having to return to that cesspool to write down my daily chatterings was too exhausting.
Where was I? Oh — rushed. My husband has two early work calls and we have a repairman coming in the morning. My morning writing is on the clock. I had to shower before sitting down to write. It’s usually done the other way around so my routine feels off. This has caused a little soul-shift.
Perhaps I should just extend gratitude that I get to write at all at this time. It will be short lived. In two weeks, I lose it. I am sorry if I continue to repeat myself in this space, but for me, it is a great loss. A month of writing consecutively and feeling – truly feeling in the core of my being – the impact it has had on me, spiritually. It has been profound. I really believe every awakened mama should find their passion that translates into a self-care experience and to make it a daily routine, to do it for a month straight, to feel the impact of this practice on their spirit. It will transform you as it has transformed me. It’s writing for me, but what would it be for you? This is like an open journal and it feels healing and makes my identity feel whole.
I had to put aside All My Wild Mothers. It is no longer my “central book” in my stack. It was one of those reads where the poetic words of the author, the very short chapters, and the tidbits of natural information could have you flying through it. But it was heavy. And it didn’t soften, as I had hoped after 100 pages. It almost seemed to get heavier. This woman has experienced trauma and her resilience is commendable. Her ability to put the very best version of herself forward to mother her son is a gift to her son. But I could not safely traverse her waves of pain and suffering any longer. Too much mention of death that I didn’t want seeping into my life, quite honestly. Maybe I will have more space for her in the future, but at the present time, I am setting boundaries around my heart. I am unsure what book I’ll bring to center-stage, now. This is a beautiful conundrum to be in.
It was a short morning sit-down and now I’m back at the keys. The repairman still hasn’t arrived despite stating “morning” and now baby is napping. I am already anxious with the thought of the dog barking with the service technician’s late arrival. Not a lot of worry-free and soul-emptying writing can occur if my head is scattered on other things. Maybe today’s blog is a bit of a write-off.
I decided on the central book for my reading, though: Birch, Oak, and Yew. The motherhood content needs a refresh after the last heavy hitter, so I’m shifting to the nature focus for the time being. Shortly, with this warmer weather and the emergence of animals from their winter dens, I’m going to pull out my seasonal books and prepare myself for Ostara. It’s on the horizon, and so is my spirit. I am always invigorated with creative energy at the same time that the world begins a rebirth, as well.
I believe seeing the deer the other day was pure luck. We went on a neighbourhood walk and I brought my binoculars with me, for the first time. So excited was I by the adventure that I even asked to walk beyond our normal “turn around” line. Alas: nothing. Not one thing spotted through my binoculars. A walk of an hour and a half with not one thing spotted. I looked in the distance, hidden between the trees, nada. It’s very odd to live at nearly 600m just steps into the bush but not see an animal. In addition, I don’t think I truly considered that, as a person who wears glasses, this would become a tedious task when working with binoculars (lift, look, slide down).
I think what makes me more sad than not seeing an animal on our long, slow walk across old railway lines was seeing how many abandoned homes – beautiful homes, or homes with so much land and potential – completely abandoned to the wild. Even a castle has been abandoned, mid-repair (which were started in 2014, then restarted in 2021). It’s just so commonplace in this region, and when I asked my French husband about it, he said there is a law of succession for properties that stops homes from just being claimed and sold, no matter how long they’ve been abandoned for. If only I could sneak and have a poke around inside – that may calm my curious mind.
No one really warned me about the addictiveness of Vinted, especially when it comes to children’s toys! If you know me, you know I’m a thrifty soul and this is like Facebook Marketplace but made easy. No need for pick-ups; all the goodies your eyes can see are delivered directly to your door. I got three Fisher Price Little People sets and then I had to close the app. The prices are shockingly brilliant and while I can’t examine the items in person, Vinted protects your purchases. Maybe Vinted will keep me out of thrift shops because I had a desire to go this afternoon but now it’s passed with these buys. Although book buying is still something I’ll be doing in person (despite the book selection on Vinted) because there’s nothing quite like flipping through a book to see if it truly speaks to you.
I love Fisher Price Little People. The products absolutely illuminate my inner child and expand into an excitement to play with my son that I cannot explain. I know it’s trendy and aesthetic to lean towards wooden and neutral toys but the little girl of my spirit just finds an immense amount of joy in the little faces of the Little People characters, and the imaginative little environments that Fisher Price creates. We have a few items – some even second hand – and they’re always played with when they’re out. R is adjusting to playing with the environments because pretend is something he’s still developmentally learning. I ended up grabbing him an airplane, a construction set with construction vehicles, and a little “town” – all these items with shipping for under 30Euros. It was difficult to resist, and at least I am still sticking to my New Year Resolution to only buy used toys for R (or new toys under 10Euros). Not like he doesn’t have enough, but so long as I can do it, I will take pleasure in doing it. Not to mention, should there be another child on the horizon, they’ll have ample items to explore thanks to their big brother.
I have posted about this on my Instagram before, but I don’t believe in the concept of spoiling a child if a child – age appropriately – shows gratitude for generosity, and learns to not demand or expect things. This is, of course, taught to children as they grow up and I intend to teach it to my son. I think gifting is my love language because of my parents. I didn’t grow up demanding things from them, but they gifted, generously, a lot to me through all my life. I didn’t ever expect things from them, and was so immensely grateful to be offered more than I anticipated. My parents continue this generosity with R. They don’t need to, but they do – and love doing it, too. Just like I love to do it, for him.
I can still remember the one time I asked for something from my dad when I really shouldn’t have. It’s wild how this memory is stuck in my brain, despite so many memories disappearing from my grasp. I was out shopping at Burlington Mall with my father. I don’t recall what we were there for, but we were there for me. I was about 16 or 17 years old. I believe it was new clothes and shoes shopping, not for any special occasion but my dad was in a out with my daughter and want to spoil her mood. And then, on the way out, we passed by the video game store and I asked if I could get the new Sims 4 game for PC (still a favourite of mine, by the way). He said to me, “Fine Claudia, but now you’re taking advantage…” and he looked at me with eyes that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. The guilt of that moment, of taking advantage of my parent’s/father’s generosity when I knew he had already done so much for me on that shopping trip, still sticks with me. I asked with the expectation, and I did get it, but I felt terribly bad about it. I never did that again.
No profound or moving motherhood reflections today, just a slow and muddy-minded share. I’m finishing this at 16h, today. Despite leaving the page open for the entire morning and afternoon with the intention to add more to this space, as you can see, the well is dry.
xx C
Ignore this… xx
Awakened Little Souls 
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