Art Journal Pages...

9.26.2008



It's been a bit of a strange week here. I feel hurried and rushed and just a bit off kilter. Memories are odd things...they can be so fierce at times and so loving at others, and they always tend to sneak up on you when you least expect it. I've always been one that has looked to "signs" and moved alongside of them and this week was just one of those where it seemed there were signs everywhere I looked that somehow had a hand to play in my life directly if I should so let them.

Today Zoey came home from school in tears because another little girl wouldn't let her be the princess when they were playing at recess and I just about had a full, down and out breakdown. Girls can be so mean, I know this, but I didn't think all this stuff would start at the age of 4 I guess. We talked about how she could go and play with other friends and how she didn't need someone else to "let her" be the princess but it was a hard lesson to give and even a harder one to take I'm thinking. She wants that girl to let her be the princess after all. Arghhh. I was wondering why the last several times she went to school she wanted to wear a dress, have her hair in a bun or wear her fancy shoes. Now I get it that she was trying to be fit to be a princess (in the eyes of this other little person). I wish that I could shield her from all hurts (the big + the little). Being a parent is so hard sometimes...and as I read this over I totally know this is little and minor and we are so blessed to not be dealing with something so much more, but still...as her mother I am allowed to wallow and worry.

Looking forward to the weekend...hoping to finish reading A Family Daughter by Maile Meloy (I'm almost there - found it to be a good and quick read).

And whenever I'm freaking out or stressing, I always seem to calm myself by seeking out some music or returning to a favorite poem...

Back Into This Body
(Author: Joyce Lombard)

When I was a kid they called us tomboys
girls who braided their curls
got sweaty and dirty
climbed trees
lived in the branches beyond
the constructed structure daddy built.
Treading my way through years
of fancy dresses marriages
pregnancies school nurturing others
I find my way back to the wild parts
of my woman's landscape
Discover hiking boots can stand
beside city pumps
Learn again to trust my body walk into fear
spend nights alone with women beside men
on forested lakes alive with sounds.
Trudging this narrow path
forty pounds of pack upon my back
Swimming, close to the place where rooted trees
reach for clear lake water
I listen to the stillness
Catch my breath on the wings of a hawk
Find myself climbing to the sky
toward home.

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Suzie Webb said...

You're so right, girls can be so mean...I remember the days of mine coming home like that...sounds like a lot of us have been 'out of sorts' lately (including myself)...so 'here's to a better week-end!' :)

Linda Rodriguez said...

Love your art journal pages. And wow, I so understand where you're coming from as I have a 4 year old myself. I just want to protect her from everything - from "the world" who won't always treat her kindly. {{Hugs}} Beautiful poem...

Marfa said...

Aw, I hope she can stand on her own, not worry if others won't include her, start up her own castle, maybe? That's a tough situation, during recess the teacher should make sure she's allowed to be a "princess," with the other girls.

vtpuggirl said...

Beautiful art journal! Girls can be mean, and I agree, no one has to "let" her be anything, she doesn't need their permission. But we all want love and attention and affirmation. Hugs to you both!

DebW said...

Poor sweet Zoe! Would it help to show her some stock photos of Princess Di? She wasn't always dressed in a gown and a tiara and often looked like someone's sister or neighbor.
Love the poem. TFS!

~Sasha Farina~ said...

Jen, thank you for posting this. When you said 'Girls can be so mean', I totally agree. I have two girls and we went thru many episodes of tears and heartache as well. What I'm aiming, is not to let my girls be the mean ones, you know, the bitter ones. Sending you a hundred *hugs* ...

Nat said...

And girls get even meaner than they are older- isnt that the worst? Give Zoey a big hug!!!!

Love your journal pages!!!!