I’m Gassy and Bubbly and Blerg

I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, which honestly feels like THE most important thing I have to share these days. THE extent of what I’m able to contribute. And, obviously, THE worst thing to write about in a world that complains we tweet every time we go to the bathroom and Facebook what we had for lunch.

For what it’s worth, I MISS seeing everyone’s food pictures ever since the online world was collectively Food Picture Shamed, so I’m likely not to be trusted, which is why I’m writing you anyway, gas and all.

I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, and I’m sitting cross-legged in my chair, consumed with all I have to do this week and the time I don’t have in which to do it.

I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, and I’m wondering even as I watch my fingers fly across the keyboard what in the world I’m typing. What in the world I’m trying to say.

You guys.

You gals.

You guys and gals.

I can’t EVEN right now.

can’t even and I don’t even, you know?

Like, I can’t even figure out what I’m trying to say, and I don’t even know how to put together a sentence, much less a paragraph, much less an entire blog post, but I miss you when I don’t write, so I’m doing it anyway, fumbling and bumbling my way through this.

I miss you because you’re community to me, which is probably why I want to see what you had for lunch. And I miss you because you’re ComeUnity to me, too — community and COMEunity because you’re the people, in the middle of all the arguing and wrangling and side-taking I witness online these days, who affirm for me over and over that we can be beautifully, brilliantly different and still be friends. I miss you because you’re the people who I truly believe wave back to me in the dark, and you’re the ones with whom I long to sit in the mud when I can’t even.

You’re the people, and this is the space, where I feel hope, I guess. This space and looking at my kids. Hope for the future. Hope that we can move beyond pettiness in our wide, wonderful, weird, wonky world and into Loving each other better.

I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, and I’m sitting cross-legged in my chair, consumed with all I have to do this week and the time I don’t have in which to do it, but just for the moment I don’t care, because I feel a little more calm telling you the truth, even though the truth is about gas.

A flock of geese just flew overhead and honked with gusto. They seemed to be flying north, and I wanted to shout, “WRONG WAY,” because Fall is upon us, but I didn’t. I just nodded in solidarity, instead, at my fellow creatures trying to find their way.

I’m a little bit gassy tonight, all bubbly and blerg, and I’m quite certain I just said nothing truly worthwhile. Nevertheless, I elected some time ago to ignore the voice that tells me I have nothing to say, in lieu of the voice that whispers it’s OK to talk anyway. It’s OK to be heard. It’s OK to be me, even if me is gassy and bubbly and blerg.

And so, friends, I leave you with this idea tonight, in the hope that I can give a sliver to you of what you’ve given me, and it’s this: you’re worthy of being heard, too. And being fully you.






P.S. I’m over-the-top busy this week, and yet I’ve been using “busy” as an excuse to be here less and less, which, frankly, hurts my heart. So for this week, I’m writing a paragraph a day and posting it anyway. I can’t promise it’ll be good, but maybe that not’s what community needs, anyway; maybe community just needs us to show up. So that’s what I’ll do. Show up. And send you love. x’s and o’s, friends. x’s and o’s.

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14 responses to “I’m Gassy and Bubbly and Blerg”

  1. I don’t think any less of u for writing about gas. Hell I think more of u for always speaking (writing) the truth; no matter how unpleasant or painful or ugly or smelly or full of puke, or not PC or not just what you think we want to hear or what you should say. You’ve got balls woman. Gusto. Spunk. Blerg, though, what the heck is that?
    I love you b/c you do the things you don’t feel like doing, and ur so damn nice about it. It’s nice to hear u miss “us” cause we miss u. It’s a weird kind of virtual world here but once u read your honesty and realness and say it like it is-ness, well, some of us just connect with that. Not enough of that it the world I say. So, we reach out and write our little comments, and wave back in the dark, or at first light, or in the rain, or from warm, sunny places with little momrade smirks. Karma my dear, karma, keep it coming sister and we’ll keep sending it back.stay strong Mama .

  2. Um. I’ve been reading your writing & loving your heart and soul, and I just wanted to tell you that. You really, really, REALLY do make this world better by sharing your astounding love and astounding human-ness in equal measure. You being you makes it maybe okay for me to be me. So thank you.

    Also, I love your A.A. Milne style today, with that repeating line. You’re a damn fine writer.

  3. I am not one to comment frequently. But I want to let you know, Beth, that I am also waving in the dark. I too am going through a rough patch and don’t know where to turn. Big changes are happening/have happened and I am still groping to find my way. We’ll get there. I know we will.
    And thank you for writing, as Ellie says above, we miss you when you’re gone.

  4. hahahaha! While I was reading your post, all I could picture was the two of us sitting together in the mud, farting and laughing so hard we can’t beathe, like a couple of toddlers, making muddy fart bubbles! I miss you when you aren’t here! I am usually very quite and hidey on here, just stalking and reading, but today the fart bubbles got me. Thank you for that!!

  5. I know I super duper miss you! Yes yes… Just showing up! 🙂 I had a REALLY difficult day yesterday. Like total meltdown, couldn’t breathe. Like all my failures as a momma heaped upon my head and it was just too heavy to move. Like sad for my children, in distress, and feeling powerless. All I wanted was for someone to show up, sit with me, let me cry it out and not judge. I looked at my phone, maybe I should call someone. Because this was despair, the depths. But there was no one in my contacts that I felt could handle the honest truth of all that I was feeling. Eventually I came out of the sobbing ball that I had curled up into, and faced the day.

    Oh how often I feel that what I have to say is not worthy to be heard. Definitely that my thoughts are not coherent enough to be expressed. Thank you for telling me it’s ok to say them anyway. They might just be exactly what someone needs to hear. Like your words are to me.

    Oh and, GASSY! So I’m still nursing, and every night I’m starving before I go to bed. I inevitably eat to much, and no matter what I eat…. gassy! Maybe it’s the late hour, because, EVERY night! 😮

    • Diana – I had a day just like yours! Even down to the part where I looked at my phone to figure out who to call to just share with and also felt like no one in there – not even hubby – could handle the truth of all that I was feeling.

      We, we are all of us out here. Feeling the same things, gassy, tired and blerg. You are not alone. We are in this together! I will wave to you in the dark, just know I am out here, thinking of you and hoping you are having a better day!


      • Melissa, thank you so much for sharing that <3 it does help to hear from other mommas, especially here. Waving in the dark. Today was better. I had a visit from a friend. Although I felt that I simply couldn't share everything, we did have a nice visit, and that helped. Especially when some realness was shared. We did connect, and had encouraging words for each other. I too hope that you are feeling better today. I know what you mean, "not even the hubby". I do have a great one, but sometimes it's just a lot, too much, you know?! Waving!! <3

  6. I haven’t been writing lately because I’ve been scared/sad/angry/hungry/complicated about this pregnancy and life in general.

    And I feel like IF, and it’s a big IF, anyone reads my blog they are tired of reading my Words About Broken-ness and Facing The Unknown and they might be wondering whether I actually want this baby (which I do, desperately– we’ve been trying for SO LONG). So instead of continuing to write about it, I’ve been opting for not writing.

    And I’ve been telling myself that it’s okay, because I’ll use all the time I’ve freed up Not Writing to do other important things, like weatherproofing the house and finishing the baby’s crib and magically making the money we need for new carseats appear in my wallet, but I haven’t been doing those things, either.

    So I’m waving westward at you tonight, Beth. In the dark and the uncertainty and the rest of life in general.

    And maybe tomorrow I’ll try writing some more.

    • Elizabeth, sorry you’re feeling “bleh” – I know what you mean and you made me smile because I have the same thoughts about “doing all the other things in the house and making the money magically appear”! Write more, it’ll help! 😉 I’m reading “the right to write” at the moment and it’s helping and her answer is “write anyway” – it’s how we process.. I feel like I get more and more antsy until I write it all out..! Anyway, standing with you sister. Hug.x

  7. Waving in the dark while I snuggle with my four year old and listen to Beltic Women sing “Danny Boy.” My little man is sure they sing it just for him. It’s sort of a shame that it’s not the first track on the album because he almost never actually makes it to “Danny Boy,” even though it is his favorite. I can tell a lot about his day by how long he’s able to hold his eyes open once the music starts. This is our nightly ritual … Beltic Women, his Spiderman fleece blanket, and eventually his soft snores as he drifts off. I’d feel less a failure if we started earlier than 11PM, but such is life in a mostly teenaged/young adult household. Our rhythm is vastly different from when those young adults were the four, three, two, and one year olds. I forget to judge myself by our today instead of the memory of yesterday.

    And homeschoolers can keep their own schedules, right? We aren’t bound by an awful 7AM start time (although my 15 yo does go to the local high school). So bedtime, schmedtime. Right?

    I love that my four year old loves Beltic Women. All too soon he’ll say it correctly, and my heart will break just a bit. For now, my heart is full, my brain is tired, and Beltic Women is our soundtrack.

  8. I’ve been “more busy” lately, which is not nearly as busy as I used to be as a single working mom, but more busy than my usual stay-at-home mom level. Like appointments daily busy. APPOINTMENTS. Where we have to be DRESSED and ON TIME. Usually with the kids. Picking up the one kid at school and taking her to her appointment, while dealing with the homeschooled one and the toddler. Taking the homeschooled one to his appointment with the toddler. And I KNOW that if I get my poo together, this is no big deal, but I’m dragging my feet because I don’t wanna be the grown up with her poo together, because then people will EXPECT it of me!

    So, waving in the dark from Harrisburg.

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