crib-flying gratitude

i am grateful for:

1) elizabeth gilbert on facebook. because this.

2) finding books read and scribbled in by younger me. 20-year-old me, to be exact. enabling me to post things like this:

“When pleasant feelings arise and we automatically grasp them, or when unpleasant feelings arise and we try to avoid them, we set up a chain reaction of entanglement and suffering. This perpetuates the body of fear. However, if we learn to be aware of feelings without grasping or aversion, they can move through us like changing weather, and we can be free to feel them and move on like the wind.” – Jack Kornfield, from “A Path with Heart” (I just found this underlined in a copy I read in college that I likely bought at the Kripalu bookstore, circa 1993.)

UPDATE: Oh my, I love me. Scrawled by 20-year-old me on a blank page in same wonderful book on mindfulness: “what happened to the good ol’ days when we made out till we thought our genitals would implode because the “actual act” was barely thought of as a reality, much less expected?”

3) stephen king’s paris review interview from 2007-ish.

4) iced coffee in a mason jar at home.

5) the boy being ok. yesterday, i was waiting for the post nap-put-down crying to quiet and i heard an odd fabric shuffling, then THUMP. then WAHHHHHHHHH. yep, he jumped or fell or leapt out of his damn crib. i sprinted of course, and there he is, on the floor, howling. i hover my hands over him a second while talking to him and thinking holy shit holy shit holy shit. because i know if he’s broken something major i should not move him myself. but he is thrashing and waving and squirming as usual, just more. i scoop him up and try to hold him but he is having none of it, so i lie him on the bed and pet him while he howls, and say sweet things as i see how high that crib railing is and how small he is and think that if i flew off something 50% taller than me and landed on my face then belly that would hurt. that would be scary. i keep doing this math. he finally calms down enough to pull my hair, which makes him laugh and i know he’s going to be ok and we have just dodged a very scary bullet. he’s just babbling now so i call my husband, which i rarely do when he’s at work and he immediately asks what’s wrong and i tell him, “he’s ok. he just jumped out of his crib.” and there is silence and oh my god. and laughter. because wow what a little mischief maker and how are we such crappy parents that we hadn’t lowered the crib yet (he hasn’t pulled up and really only yesterday was he able to get from his belly to sitting on his own, so i guess that’s why, but still). and also the laughter is relief that he’s ok. i see his pupils dilating normally. he’s moving fine. so i get out the porta-crib, which will be his temporary home. i feed him and sing and rock him and put him down for the nap he still hasn’t had and he goes down like a boo and i slip out and take deep breaths and down some rescue remedy and text with my husband and eat some homemade granola. whew. whew. whew.

6) a non-sweltering august.

7) a job, a cozy home, a lovely family.

8) being emotionally healthy enough to have all of that and to appreciate it, even when i get overwhelmed by the world and my world.

9) pinterest. the beauty, the beauty.

10) the “silly tails” book series for babies. check them out. the best.

11) sunsets at our pad.