New Song on the Playlist

Sunday afternoon, drinking coffee with Mr. Hammy whilst Hamlet naps. Through the baby monitor, I hear the sounds of a stirring toddler, who decides to try out some new material.

"SHOT 'FREW THE HEART, AND YOU'RE TO BWAME!....BAD NAME!"

Mr. Hammy and I look at each other, "Is that? Did I hear? Did you hear?"

"SHOT 'FREW THE HEART, AND YOU'RE TO BWAME!....BAD NAME!"

This goes on for several minutes; just this one line, evoking memories of big hair and high school dances. From my 2.5 year old son.

Lullabye and goodnight

I sing to Hamlet every night. I like to sing and have a passable voice, so I'm trying to pass on that love of music to my son. He now makes requests:

"Mommy, you sing Cars song."
"Honey, Mommy is not Cheryl Crow."
"You try Mommy." He pats my shoulder, "You try." And because he is my pup, my love, I try.

"Mommy, you sing We Will Rock You."
Because his babysitter plays what she calls "Jock Jams" and We Will Rock You makes an appearance at every hockey game ever played...this is now on the playlist.


"Mommy, you sing Dreamland." There's a place, way up high, starry bright there through the night there...

And then there are the songs I sing to Hamlet that someone once sang to a smaller, younger Hammy.

When I was a child, it was a grand treat for me to spend the night at my grandparent's house. They lived across town, and my Pops worked nights. So, I sometimes stayed "to keep Nan company". I would snug down in her big bed and ask her to sing me to sleep.

"Oh, honey you don't want to hear my scratchy old voice." (For posterity, my Nan was 40 when I was born.)

"Yes, I do!"

And because she couldn't refuse me, because her heart was mine and we both knew it, she sang:

You climbed up on my knee
You're all the world to me
You're mine from head to toe
That little girl of mine
No one will ever know, just what your coming has meant
But I love you so, you're something heaven must have sent....

I was in heaven, and all was right in my world.

So, as I write this, wishing I could hear my Nan's voice one more time, I hear Hamlet in his crib...
(We will, we will rock you! Buddy you're a strong man!)...and hope that he always remembers how his Mommy sang to him.

You travel for work? How exciting!

Except that it's not.

It's lonely, and who knew I'd ever get tired of having someone else cook my meals? Seriously, you can only eat in restaurants so much before you start craving things like granola bars and cheerios.

Oddly enough, it also means that the line between "work" and "not work" becomes even more blurred. I find I put in longer hours, over and above the work I'm actually travelling to accomplish, because I can work until midnight without sacrificing my "real life". Meaning, time with Mister Hammy and Hamlet.

And I'm also struggling with the fact that Hamlet is old enough to both a) miss his Mommy, and b) tell me about it. He's almost 2 and 1/2, so it goes something like:

"Hi Mommy! You take the red car to Nova Scotia."

"Yes buddy, I'm working in Nova Scotia. Are you taking care of Daddy and the boxergirlies?"

"Mommy, I watchin' Diego!"

"That's great pup - who is he yelling at in Spanish today?"

"Leatherback sea turtles Mommy. Mommy I miss you. Mommy I love you. Bye Mommy!"

Sigh.

I remember, I started this for a reason

I read the blogs of others, but I do not blog.

I remember I wanted to have a venue to work things out; a safer haven than the paper process (yes, I was once traumatized by a family member reading my diary). I don't think that need has gone away.

The last year and a half have been the hardest of my life. Everything I believed about myself, personal and professional, was taken away. And I have had to search for the bits of myself, my real self, and painstakingly pull it together.

It sucked. Hard.

Call me cliche, but I feel like the pheonix - burn me to ashes, then burn the ashes. Fire streaks to the sky and I am reborn.

So, the present loveliness of my life should be doubly celebrated. Hamlet is 29 months old, beautiful and bright. He shines, does my lad. He deserves a Mommy who looks to the future. Mr. Hammy and I love with the knowledge that we came too close to losing everything; our family and ourselves. Love is hard and fraught with responsibility - i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) i am never without it (anywhere i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling).

This week, after some work craziness and a certification exam, I'm hoping to push the "reset" button on some of my priorities. Physical fitness being one; perhaps mental fitness is another? I think this blog could be part of that - a spot to work out the things in my head before they spill over into life and damage what I've built.

Hey, you gotta start somewhere.