I'm going to stop writing on here for a while. I just want to be quiet. My words are such a part of me, and they are so scant. I need to shut the door and hide for a little. Maybe I'll want to say something later. Or maybe not. I just didn't want my written history to stop with no explanation. It is deliberate. Love and health to whoever wants it. Bye.

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
― Pablo Neruda  

What I know about loving kids

I am so fortunate to have the pleasure and privilege of having so many young women as friends. (And young men. I am pretty sure Kameron and I were buds when he was not quite pubescent. And Zak.....) Anyway, it keeps me young, and I get to act as immature as I want. But regardless of my silliness, I actually do know some things. I share my thoughts on sex, feminism, and life all the time. But one thing I REALLY know is children. More specifically, how to get a human being from the breast to autonomy. (Book title)  My kids are not perfect. But we do love each other, and somehow have an honest, real existence. They are not just like me, thank God, and they have begun to make fun of me in the Louque tradition. Bring it.

So here are some things for my sweet young moms/dads to think about. In no particular order.

Your child is not yours. He or she is a human that God or the universe (whatever you believe) has entrusted to your care. He/she is not your chance to live again, do it all differently, or worse, do it all the same. They are spirits housed in sacred temples needing love, food, shelter, and the ability and mandate to question everything. They are here for reasons that probably have nothing to do with you. (Where is Carole?)

These spirits are kind of stupid. They do things that are obviously mistakes. They do not lean toward knowledge and order. The Second Law of Thermodynamics. Untended, they will NOT become organized and orderly. They are gardens. They will most definitely be overtaken by weeds, insects, and other destructive and choking influences. And they will just let it happen. You/I have to constantly water, pull weeds BEFORE they have completely wrapped around the roots. The old nip in the bud. You have to make them sleep, bathe, and read. You have to force them to come out of their rooms and be a part of the family. You cannot be afraid of their disdain. They will come around, because they will get hungry. They will become whoever or whatever they are around the most when they are small. They conform like little pack creatures. You need to be the pack, the lead wolf. I promise, if you don't someone will. And that adorable little fool will run with them and howl at someone else's moon. This stuff happens when they are so young. It's why I homeschooled, which is another subject.

I believe that home is where you get to make some mistakes. Learn how to argue, to fight fair. There is that all important developmental place where they pull away and want to rebel and become who they are and not your mini me. I believe in stepping back and seeing what they've got in the logic department. It's usually not much at first, but if you let them be a little mouthy or a little angry, you might actually see them work through that crap and learn how to communicate. They might think it's ok to have feelings and all. I have seen some tragic examples of people that probably weren't afforded this luxury.

They are sexual beings. Like you. Don't demonize it. They discover early on that things tickle. It's not a sin. Calm down.

I have more. But I want to go clean my house. I love my kids with all my heart. I have made so many mistakes, but I swear I am willing to go to their therapy session and own whatever I did to screw it up for them. I guess that's the big one. Be able to say you are sorry. For real. In the end, that's all. We are all human and trying to love and be loved. I hope I am helping them.

Love

For me, Love at it's most base level is something like this: I take care of you, and you take care of me. That's it. It has to do with giving and receiving. Willingly and so happily. Not unconditional. Sorry. It's completely conditional. The conditions are honesty and trust and affection and comfort. It is unguarded and generous. It is nurturing and observant. It is open. Like I-10, it goes east and west. Both ways. It does not work any other way.

I haven't written in a while. I am still here.

It's February. The month of Love. I can look back on my posts and see my musings and heartfelt wonder when it came to this. My hair twirling and all. I have cooled down considerably if not completely. Life does that. It's not fair.

But just because I am in orbit, Love stays the same. So these are some of the things that I think Love is. The atoms that come together and make the whole.

It's holding hands. It's looking at someone and having your eyes become those little hearts. It's calling to say good night because that's the last voice you want to hear. It's like that in the morning, too. It's feeling sorry for all the other chumps that don't have it. It's telling your dreams and being remembered. It's getting flowers for no reason. It's trusting someone with your soul. It's laughing and eating and dancing. It's always knowing that someone is wanting to be with you as you are the same. It's being the object of true affection. It's reciprocation and adoration and communication. It's long kisses. It's not confusing, but finally the answer. It's touch and thought and regard. It's pure giving of yourself. It's not having to be on guard but putting all that away and relaxing. It's what makes the world go round. It's what I wish for my children. And for me.

Happy Love Month. I hope to focus on it and find it and be wrapped in it like a blanket just out of the dryer.