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.