Treading Water

It's. Been. Too. Long.

I'm already trying to come up with a list of amazing excuses. Here's what I've got so far:
-The summer was just so full of adventure that I just couldn't find time
- The fall is too gorgeous to want to spend any time cooped up inside
-The holidays are always crazy busy with events and parties and hand making all the perfect gifts

Hmmmm. My real list looks something like this:
- the summer was too humid to go outside...and I didn't have the energy to pack for what felt like a weekend to take her to the pool and hope the entire time that she didn't drown.
- the fall was indeed gorgeous and I did spend a lot of time outside...but not for the benefit of my child. It was mostly spent running with the stroller in order to get myself in shape for my childless week in Mexico. But hey, win/win right?
- the holidays WERE crazy busy the week before Christmas while I frantically tried to get last minute gift ideas together. All hand purchased. I spent most of my time before that moping around because I had returned from vacation to freezing weather and darkness by 4:30.

I have this theory that being a stay at home mom can feel like you are constantly trying to keep your head above water. Often if im not feeling like a great mom (play dates, healthy lunches, no screens, one on one quality time, adventures, reading, learning, etc etc etc) i feel like a NOT great mom. I will feel tired, or bored, or lonely, or impatient. I will want her to play by herself so i can stare at my phone some more...and then...I will feel guilty about all of those things. The guilt is the worst. Because the guilt is a lie. I think that's why I'm treading water in the first place....to not let the guilt sink me. And right now....in stupid January (when it's cold and rainy and I feel unmotivated and
trapped in my house)...the water is freezing. And my limbs are slowing down. And the guilt is actually tugging at my leg.

I looked up the word "guilt", wanting to learn more about it since it thinks we are best friends...and it is defined as "the state of one who has done something wrong". It actually caught me off guard....because I don't feel that at all. I don't feel like I'm doing something wrong. So what am I feeling then, I wondered. And I thought...its not that I am doing something wrong, but more that I could be doing it better. Hmmmm....interesting. So I decided to look up the word "better", since it was my NEW best friend. "Comparative of good and well" ..."improve on or surpass (an existing or previous level or achievement)". What i immediately noticed was that the word "better" can't exist without the word "compare". 

In my right mind I know all of this obviously, and in other scenarios comparing yourself and trying to do better can be healthy and beneficial. But studying these words from my current perspective as a mom was eye-opening. I feel like I go out of my way not to read parent magazines or Facebook articles to avoid this exact feeling. I thought I was doing a stellar job not comparing myself to other moms....but I think it's nearly impossible. We seek out so much information as first time parents about breast feeding, vaccinations, co-sleeping, diapering methods, sleep schedules, the best foods, the best schools, ...(this list could go on forever and ever....) hoping for some clarity and guidance and  we leave with a hope and a prayer that we choose all the right things, the best things. We feel discouraged if our initial methods fail or "guilty" if we cave and let them watch too much tv or if we are exhausted and decide to grab fast food instead of cooking, all the while promising ourselves we will make up for it tomorrow. We will be a "better" mom tomorrow. 

Well, I call bullshit. 
You're a mom. That's enough. That's hard enough and amazing enough without adding all the other stuff. They are ours because we are the best-equipped for the job. There is no comparison. So next time I feel like I'm drowning I will recite this to myself and stop trying so hard. I will just let myself sink. We are moms after all, the masters of multi-tasking. I'm pretty sure we can do anything, right? Including breathing under water.

When to let go and when to hold on

Just got home from our first trip to the beach...as parents. Threw all the luggage in the living room, put her to sleep and sunk into my bed. It was wonderful and exhausting. The summer I was pregnant we were at the pool almost every day and I remember someone saying "enjoy closing your eyes!". It's almost impossible to fathom the small things that will become luxuries. All I wanted to do was lay out, take a nap in the sun, do a crossword, read a book....all the things my previous self associated with going to the beach. I was fortunate to have a few of these moments due to the help of my in-laws, but the old me and the new me were at odds with each other most of the time.

It felt very similar to how I would shop for clothes post baby. The autopilot part of my brain would look at medium sized items to try on while the current part of my brain laughed as I tried to squeeze into them. "WAKE UP!!" "This isn't your size anymore!!!" It's like having to retrain yourself. Everything you knew is out the window. I hadn't felt that in a while until this trip. I felt stuck between a relaxing vacation for me as it always had been, and the constantly alert family trip it actually was. This trip was about her. All future family trips will be more about the kids than about us. This isn't a bad thing....just still so different than what I'm used to. It took me a couple days into the trip to stop trying to have it all and let go.....to just enjoy focusing on her and enjoy seeing it all through her eyes. The vastness of the ocean, the sound of the waves as they crash over your toes, getting covered in sand and not caring, the sunset, the fireworks, watching crabs peek out of their shells and slowly march away once they think no one is watching...

I wonder if this struggle will ever go away, if I will ever get used to it...or if the selfish, independent part of me will always put up a fight when it feels threatened. There's a healty boundary in there somewhere. Most of the time motherhood wins and we just have to quit fighting the inevitable and choose to see the beauty of it all...but I also think that there are times we put up a fight because we are so desperately trying to hold on to who we used to be...to not let the important parts of ourselves slip away....because those are the pieces that make us each unique in this world. As mothers, as wives, as sisters, as friends, as daughters and grand-daughters.  Anyone can be a mom....but no one can be you. I suppose the challenge is knowing when to let go and when to hold on.

my future family

I'm reaching the time in my motherhood journey where people begin wondering about baby #2, myself included...The theories running rampant through my thoughts about whats best, whats ideal? Because let's face it, no matter what the topic, those theories are out there. I've known for a while now that I wanted to wait until I was 30, until I had a chance to feel in shape again, etc. So when our friends decided to have a destination wedding in the upcoming fall I felt a weight lifted. I kept telling myself..."now i don't have to think about it until October because I REFUSE to be pregnant on the beach in Mexico!" It felt nice to have an event on the calendar to help narrow down my timeline.

As i was driving home from my sister's house the other night, i was watching her in the back seat. I was confident she would fall asleep since we were already an hour passed her bedtime, but instead i watched her looking out the window....at the street lights, passing cars, trees, buildings....and it just hit me like a ton of bricks, like someone pressing a giant pause button on my heart...

...the truth is, in 10 years, even less, our family will look completely different....and forever. This tiny family of three we have right now will not be how people remember the Todd's. This time of it being just the 3 of us is mere seconds compared to the rest of our lives. And it broke my heart...not necessarily in a sad way, just in a way that made me stop feeling rushed, like if i miss the ideal window to have #2 that i would regret it. It made me so excited about spending another summer with just her...not the newborn version of her where I'm constantly trying to make sure she doesn't overheat and where all the activities we do are simply for my sanity.....but the toddler version of her that will be running around and getting excited and actually sharing in the memories with us.

If anything, it just made me very aware of how small a piece of our life this will be and that I want to soak in every minute of this summer of adventures with my first born...the one who really changed it all, the one who pushed and pulled me in ways I didn't know were possible, the one who changed how i see everything, the one who was here from the beginning as we looked at each other wondering how this whole mother/child relationship was gonna work out.....

yup....i need more time with this one.

my future family...whatever it may look like and however many years apart, and however old i am....will be perfect.

Exhibit A

I hate what a challenge it is to stay consistent with blogging. I hate that it's been almost 2 months since my last post. Since doing the Artist Way I've been writing 3 pages of freehand almost everyday for several months which has somewhat replaced blogging a little. I just finished my third notebook and haven't had a chance to get a new one yet so it's been almost a week since I wrote and I can feel my brain and my heart filling up with no where to spill over. The daily writing has become such a significant part of my day. So that's why I'm here.

I don't even have anything to say really other than I felt the urgent need to be heard, even if by a blank page. I can't stay still, I can't focus. Maybe it's the very little caffeine I had today....maybe it's because I didn't get a good workout in, maybe it's because I'm restless. Restelss because I'm ready to start seeing results...in my body, in my creativity, in my role as a stay at home mom. To clarify, the progress is there and always has been but it's so gradual that it's easy to become impatient. Maybe I'll only feel that today or maybe the rest of the week. It's a constant ebb and flow. Shocker.

I want to be done now because I can't think of anything else to say, but the tugging is still there, that there's a need for something to get out. Possibly the fear that we are quickly approaching the time we will begin discussing baby #2 and I feel very unprepared...or that my best friend is NOT in fact moving back to Nashville and it's completely unfair, or that 4 of my friends have new babies and I'm worried I'll be forgotten...or that I'm turning 30 this summer...or maybe (and most likely) this is just what happens when I don't get it all out on the page daily. No mother should be left alone with her thoughts for more than a couple days. There are a multitude of consequences and this post is Exibit A.

You're welcome.

P.S. Here's a video of an Instagram series I started called #momdiary. Enjoy. If it's works that is, I feel like it's not gonna work. Oh well..

The glider chair

As I rocked her to sleep last night, I felt thankful for the glider chair a friend had handed down to me. I didn't receive it until she was over a year old and wondered if I would even use it that much. Even though it isn't every night, the nights that I do rock her to sleep are quite possibly some of my fullest moments......where there is still and quiet. When it feels like all that exists is my love for her along with the looming heaviness that every time I look down at her she is a little bit older.  Motherhood is like a constant tug-of-war. On one side is the sheer need of just getting through the day while the other side is screaming for time to slow down or God forbid, stand still. Thankfully, rocking her in that chair it feels like God hears my screaming...if only for a second.

I began thinking of the dear friend that gave me the glider and the moments she may have had while rocking her children to sleep. Some full of contentment, some exhausted and weary, some racked with lonlieness, but all beautiful. I looked around my nursery taking in all the things that had been handed down to me from other mothers and it made me so grateful. Not just for the things, but for the constant reminder that these items are filled with other mothers' laughter and tears, other women taking one day at a time, trying to balance it all, trying to be the best, trying to ignore the guilt, trying to have a routine while trying to be flexible, trying to be a constant safe place while trying to be prepared for anything at anytime....a mood change, a blowout, a fall, a choking hazard, a glass of wine being knocked over in slow motion. They've all been there. And when I rock in that glider and take in the walls around me, it makes me feel connected. And when motherhood can feel like an island, that reminder is priceless.

Choice

I feel heavy. Not in a bad way, more in an anxious way....the way that thoughts seem to weigh on your heart rather than your mind. A heaviness that makes me feel like I have something to say.

I am in a battle right now, as this hint of motivation is being challenged by my child's screaming in the next room. She's supposed to be asleep. I can let her get the better of me and douse what tiny creative flame I feel at the moment, or I can push through it, block it out. This, in a nutshell, is one of the biggest barriers as a mother..... to maintain a creative sanctuary within yourself. The longer she cries, the more I feel that welcomed heaviness leaving me.

Before children I had the luxury to let creativity cross my path or hit me in the face whenever it pleased, but now? Now I have to make a conscious choice to act on it. Schedule it, plan it. And that's a battle all on its own. If it's during the day, I can't focus due to the constant possibility of interruption. And at night when she's gone to bed, it takes a mental army to choose reading, writing, or creating above turning on Netflix and zoning out.

She is 16 months tomorrow, and although life seems easier than when she was a baby, it's really just a different version of hard. It's hard to put into words how drained I feel at the end of the day. Even though much of that energy is geared toward having fun with her, its a world where you are constantly on your toes. Never grounded or settled. Waiting for a mood change at any moment, aware of where they are and what they could be getting into at all times. I can never check out or fully devote my thoughts to anything else. So at the end of the day, I feel exhausted without having broken a sweat and completely unaware of the circles I've been running in my head all day. And, in fact, it literally feels like a circle. I am not implying that I am more mentally exhausted than those with insanely intellectual jobs...what I mean is...my brain is currently not receiving a ton of new information. I spend my day pointing at things, repeating words, making animal noises, singing songs. Now don't get me wrong, watching her mind comprehend all these new things I'm teaching her is beyond fascinating and fulfilling, but in a way that is very much about her, about the mother in me. And then there is me....the me that got pushed to the side to make way for this magnificent, joyful, adorable, all-consuming kid. A kid whom I rarely acknowledge my depth of love for because it paralyzes me.

All this to say, if I intend to do the stay-at-home thing for a while, I have got to figure out a way to make room for both of those versions of myself.  So much of my internal struggles lately have all come down to the simple yet excruciatingly difficult act of choice. Choice leaves no more room for denial. Choice leaves you with no scapegoat, no one to blame. Choice is all on you. And that....is terrifying. And vulnerable.

I am going to have to wake up everyday and choose what kind of mom I want to be...and then remind myself every 30 minutes. I keep waiting for my thoughts to catapult me into action, but when my thoughts consist of "what does the puppy say?" or "can you show me purple?", it makes sense that watching 5 episodes of Gossip Girl in a row seems like a step up. In my case, I must act first and pray that some new thought comes from it. Take myself to a museum exhibit, do a crossword puzzle, go on a walk, take a yoga class, go to a park alone and judge other moms (in order to feel better about myself, of course). Anyways, you get the picture.

Well, she stopped crying a while ago. I guess I won.

The four month hiatus

It has been too long. I'm frustrated with myself for not making the time to write. And now so much has happened I find it hard to fill in all the gaps. And I can't even blame it on the baby...well...toddler. I have had time, just no motivation. That's something I wasn't expecting when circumstances allowed me to be stay at home mom. I was never intending to really do the stay at home mom thing but when the option fell in my lap I was excited about it. For about two weeks. It's not her, it's me...I swear. The days run together. I have no structure, no plan. When it is left to me to make that for myself I almost always fail. I am good at being told what to do. Someone give me a task. I need accountability. I'm aware that I can chose to change all these things myself, but sometimes I feel so lost that I don't know how to find my way back to civilization. With every decision I could make, there's 10 excuses to back it up. I thought I would accomplish so much more with her with all the free time I had. But instead I feel guilty for not doing more, not being more creative, watching too much tv, not getting her out of the house enough, not scheduling enough play dates. Not to mention the guilt of not contributing to the finances. Tis motherhood. The guilt that follows you everywhere. I guess I should be giving myself a pat on the back for writing though? It's been almost 4 months so maybe this a step in the right direction.

What has she been up to for the past four months you ask? Well...her crib that once seemed so vast is getting smaller and smaller. I have a little person living with me now. New sounds, new faces. Waving at everyone and anything. Repeating words. Following directions, walking, making animal sounds, throwing tantrums, blowing kisses. I feel like I can see the wheels constantly turning in her mind. It's a fascinating thing to witness. Christmas is around the corner and I cannot wait to watch her open presents and eat grandpas homemade french toast for the first time!

I can't wait to start our own family traditions. Christmas will never be the same. Watching her face light up will be the only thing on my wish list for a while.