Fallen Leaves

At the beginning of the week a crisp autumn cool whipped through the air. The trees seemed overnight to go from faded greens to a canopy of blistering reds, golden yellows, fiery oranges and dotted rusted browns hues. Our uncut lawn laced with the first few tanning blades as the squirrel pick it apart.

A few days of global warming rainstorms later and a balmy seventy degrees fills the region… and all those beautiful leaves fill the yard. And, the driveway. And, the gutters. And, well, you get the picture. It’s picturesque and yet, it’s not the picture I’d hoped it would be.

Unlike our last experience, this years battle with wind blown leaves, I will be at it on my own. Let’s hope, unlike last year it doesn’t result in a blown out back.

It’s amazing how quickly things can change.

Over the course of the last few months things remained relatively normal. Most days about the worst symptoms of pregnancy were premature exhaustion and some bouts with unexpected tears. I read Heather Armstrong’s It Sucked and Then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown, and a Much Needed Margarita among other collected works and expected much worse that what we’d experience.

And, then, we started to experience it. And, it was weird. All those fallen leaves, all off the tree, just like that.

Suddenly tummies were showing. Ankles were swollen. Coffee pots were forgotten… and then it really hits you. Holy shit, this is for real. This changes everything.

Just as changing landscape around us finds the trees rain leaves upon the lawn changing it to its own kaleidoscope of colors everything around us was in the upheaval of change as well. How much of it is borne from exhaustion? From hormones? From the realization everything is really changing and there’s no turning back?

So, we fought. And, we fought again. And, we will probably fight again before this is all over. Hopefully the next one isn’t as drastic as the last few, but chances are it still will be a fight that will be part of the bigger storm that’s brewing of hormones, and exhaustion and the continuing realization everything is changing and changing again.

The winds of change are a’blowin’.

And, it’s for the better. I couldn’t’ve asked for a better partner and friend to be going through this with. I get the impression the feeling might not always be mutual, but then again, if I were brewing up our offspring deep inside me, I don’t think I’d be nearly as tolerant of myself as I am to begin with. The many, many years I’ve spent coming to terms with myself and my own faults are still no preparation for what it means for someone to live with me, be dependent on me and draw from my perceived strengths while brewing our spawn like something out of an alien movie. If the most artistic version is the beauty of autumnal artistry the reality is probably more like a forest fire some days.

Do I wish I could paint that beautify picture of the trees as my own life? Sure.

Is it realistic? Eh, maybe not, but it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t strive for it. I’m ore than willing to try. My biggest fear is the effort isn’t enough. Not that it isn’t good enough, but it isn’t perceived. It isn’t understood. And, thus, it isn’t accepted. But, lets not get ahead of ourselves.

Right now, it’s all about cleaning up the leaves … and cleaning up the fear, the anxiety, the stress, the failed expectations … the sore backs, swollen ankles, upset stomachs and WTF are you cooking I HATE that smell moments.

So tomorrow, out comes the rake…let’s see what happens next. If nothing else, at least we can see the lawn again, right?

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About thedoormouse

I am I. That’s all that i am. my little mousehole in cyberspace of fiction, recipes, sacrasm, op-ed on music, sports, and other notations both grand and tiny: https://thedmouse.wordpress.com/about-thedmouse/
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