single mamas

 

I know I've said it before.  I'll say it again.  I send a huge, heartfelt, jaw-dropping shout out to the all the single mamas of the world.  It is just not easy going it alone.  Especially after a really, really full work week.  Especially with a Solomon and his wild ways, tests, strong will.  Eliana is actually becoming a help.  She's learned how to wink and we use it to converse behind Soli's back.  That and speaking Spanish.  She tricks him into being agreeable with me.  She tricks him into doing what she wants.  It's really quite wonderful. 


I don't have anything epic to report.  I had a highly functional, big, replete work week.  I had a twenty four hour getaway last weekend...maybe closer to thirty, but it was definitely long enough to reset my energy button.  My three amigas and I escaped to Idaho for the night, cozied up in a cabin, electric fire raging, stories flying like flames.  The plan was to head the ten miles up the road to the pass and ski beneath the full moon.  After wine and snacks, dinner and wine, it was hard to motivate to do a whole lot.  That said, this is Montana and the girls are badass.  So we geared up and skied around the cabins, down the icy road, past the snowy creek, quiet and calm.  We slept like babies (a term I really don't get.  What I mean to say is, we slept because we were So Far from our babies), rising at a miraculous 9:45 on Sunday morning, giddily flabbergasted to have actually slept in.  Gita and Robyn had to roll back to Missoula, but Kay and I had all day.  We drank lots of coffee and devoured omlettes and huckleberry pancakes.  I have these fortieth birthday travel fantasies.  As I get close to the last year of my thirties, it seems to be time to actually form them into something tangible.  Kay asked me to dream big, money not an issue.  It was a pretty fun way to luxuriate over brunch.  I returned to Bahia, to dances and drumbeats, roaring waves and cachaca.  There is so much of the world I've yet to see and it seemed silly that I so long to return to Brazil.  But the idea of connecting to my soul the way I did so deeply when I was there fifteen years ago, well, that sounds pretty awesome.  I love dreaming with my girlfriends. 

We made our way to the pass, Indigo Girls busting, sunshine reflecting on the white snow.  I indulged in my favorite sport.  My only "real" sport.  I heart cross-country skiing.  I really do.  Lolo Pass is my favorite place to go and I don't make it there very often anymore.  Ah, the small town life.  Even an hour out of Missoula, in a whole other state, no less, we managed to run into a gazillion people we knew.  We'd be on a little ski roll when we'd pass another set of friends.  Stop, chat, ski some more.  Stop, chat.  I saw seven of my work colleagues.  Seven!  Separately.  And my staff isn't all that big. 

Which brings me to my next theme of the weekend.  Which is I heart Missoula.  I know I've been all over the map with this one, but when it comes down to it, I love how easy everything is.  How accessible.  How kind and welcoming and mellow. My day alone with the kids was exhausting, but perhaps that is because we chose to do so much.  The free National Eat Ice-Cream for breakfast day at the Holiday Inn (who thinks of these things?).  The free gymnastics demo, the kids wild, the echo cacaphonous, the sugary toppings extensive. 

 

I had a rehearsal downtown that was running late. So we hopped into the studio next door where loud pop was pouring from the speakers and the Saturday morning Oula class was in full swing.  The kids settled on their bellies at the edge of the dance floor to watch.  I jumped into the class in time for squats and chasses.  I quickly began peeling away layers and beneath the boots and the skirt, the long sleeves and the scarf, were my trusty dance clothes.  My friend told me after class that I should start a clothing line.  For girls who are ready to dance any time. 

The day continued.  We stopped in front of the Artist's Shop to write love notes to one another for their Valentine display.  Eliana made two:  1.  Solomon loves Eliana and 2.  Eliana loves Solomon.  Mama.

 

 We reminisced about our Friday night when we went to the opening of Missoula's first aerial studio and watched a gorgeous, ripped mamacita hang and split and spin while suspended from the ceiling. A dj spun beats and Soli and Els and I got down.  Today that same dj was in charge of the music at my rehearsal.  She recognized me as the dancing mama from the night before, once again, Sol and Elie seated on the periphery of the dance floor.  I was proud to be that mama.  I love the piece I choreographed for next week's show.  I love that my kiddies got to watch us bust it out. 

 And, once again, I've talked myself out of how hard it actually is to be a single mom, the rant I was so ready to dive into a half an hour ago.   The weekend has been pretty awesome.  I think I just need breaks.  They've been asleep for almost an hour and a half and I've reset.  I've bathed.  I've zoned out.  I've babbled on this site.  I'm ready for a new day.