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.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Thursday, December 26, 2013
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.
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.
Monday, December 9, 2013
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
The first of the first
Well, it happened. My tiny baby is not a tiny baby anymore. She turned a year old yesterday. The big first. The first of the first. Her party isn't until this weekend but we did go out last night and she opened some presents and ate a cupcake. We spent the morning watching old videos of her being born and our time in the hospital.
Its hard to remember her looking like she did then. Its hard remembering how every little noise she made was the most amazing thing I had ever heard. And now here we are, anticipating her first steps.
I was watching Sex and the City the other night, the one where Miranda's baby turns 1...they were all singing happy birthday and I had a meltdown realizing that I would be singing happy birthday for the first time in my life to my own child. Then I cried the night before yesterday just looking through old pictures of her. Surprisingly yesterday I was a little more emotionally removed. I was also very tired and a tad irritable. But then it snuck up on me again....
I hadn't realized that she would be old enough to actually react to her presents. My in-laws got her a stuffed Lambchop doll that talks. They have the puppet version at their house so she already knows who Lambchop is...I let her pull it out of the bag and she got the biggest smile on her face and then gave him a kiss...then proceeded to use him as a pillow and laid on my chest. I almost died due to my heart exploding out of my chest. I teared up and quickly got it together. The whole restaurant sang happy birthday to her, it was awesome. And then she quickly inhaled the mini (well, 2)..mini cupcakes. It was a good day.
What a bright light she is....to me and the rest of the world. Cannot wait to see what God has in store for her.
Happy First Birthday sweet girl!!! I'm so excited to share in this life journey with you, growing together, molding each other, unconditionally loving one another, butting heads, fighting it out, healing from heart aches, suffering disappointments, seeing the silver linings, and making it to the other side.
Its hard to remember her looking like she did then. Its hard remembering how every little noise she made was the most amazing thing I had ever heard. And now here we are, anticipating her first steps.
I was watching Sex and the City the other night, the one where Miranda's baby turns 1...they were all singing happy birthday and I had a meltdown realizing that I would be singing happy birthday for the first time in my life to my own child. Then I cried the night before yesterday just looking through old pictures of her. Surprisingly yesterday I was a little more emotionally removed. I was also very tired and a tad irritable. But then it snuck up on me again....
I hadn't realized that she would be old enough to actually react to her presents. My in-laws got her a stuffed Lambchop doll that talks. They have the puppet version at their house so she already knows who Lambchop is...I let her pull it out of the bag and she got the biggest smile on her face and then gave him a kiss...then proceeded to use him as a pillow and laid on my chest. I almost died due to my heart exploding out of my chest. I teared up and quickly got it together. The whole restaurant sang happy birthday to her, it was awesome. And then she quickly inhaled the mini (well, 2)..mini cupcakes. It was a good day.
What a bright light she is....to me and the rest of the world. Cannot wait to see what God has in store for her.
Happy First Birthday sweet girl!!! I'm so excited to share in this life journey with you, growing together, molding each other, unconditionally loving one another, butting heads, fighting it out, healing from heart aches, suffering disappointments, seeing the silver linings, and making it to the other side.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
In the moment
I'm 5 weeks into The Artist's Way and I feel I've already hit some highs and some lows. I've accomplished some pretty vital tasks such as writing every day, taking time for myself at least once a week to do something I enjoy, and making a creative space for myself in the house....which in turn has helped me make space for myself in my own life. From marriage to motherhood to working, it's taught me that it's okay to be selfish with my solitude...in fact it's necessary. And it's taken a bit to stop feeling guilty about that. It still creeps up every time I go off to have ME time, but I'm getting better at fighting it and feeling confident in my needs.
The lows include anger, shame, sadness, fear. Mostly due to the harsh truth that I've let myself get this far lost from who I really am and what I really love to do. Overwhelming fear of what it's going to take to get back there and what other people will think of me. Disappointment in myself that I care so much what other people will think.
I'm also trying to balance all of this while soaking in Eva's rapid development....not wanting to miss a moment. It feels like every week she's doing something new...making a new noise, having a better understanding when something is funny, realizing different ways her hands can move. It's magical. I need to make a conscious decision to play with her a little more, hold her a little longer before she goes to bed, not be in such a hurry or so worried about the eternal list of things that need to get done... and just live in the moment. And let's be honest....I don't mean all day every day...but making sure it happens at some point every day is a step in the right direction, and God-willing, maybe that will get easier.
The lows include anger, shame, sadness, fear. Mostly due to the harsh truth that I've let myself get this far lost from who I really am and what I really love to do. Overwhelming fear of what it's going to take to get back there and what other people will think of me. Disappointment in myself that I care so much what other people will think.
I'm also trying to balance all of this while soaking in Eva's rapid development....not wanting to miss a moment. It feels like every week she's doing something new...making a new noise, having a better understanding when something is funny, realizing different ways her hands can move. It's magical. I need to make a conscious decision to play with her a little more, hold her a little longer before she goes to bed, not be in such a hurry or so worried about the eternal list of things that need to get done... and just live in the moment. And let's be honest....I don't mean all day every day...but making sure it happens at some point every day is a step in the right direction, and God-willing, maybe that will get easier.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
the other side
She will turn 1 year old this month. There are no words, really.
I'm running the gamut of emotions.
Denial... disbelief...heartache... joy.... relief.
I feel like her turning a year is like me finally coming up for air. I still have a few pounds I would like to lose, but I can't believe I'm almost to the other side, back to feeling like me again.
Will there ever be a year in my life more significant, more challenging, more beautiful?
I'm running the gamut of emotions.
Denial... disbelief...heartache... joy.... relief.
I feel like her turning a year is like me finally coming up for air. I still have a few pounds I would like to lose, but I can't believe I'm almost to the other side, back to feeling like me again.
Will there ever be a year in my life more significant, more challenging, more beautiful?
Sunday, July 14, 2013
The Artists Way
Now that I feel mostly adjusted to the mass amounts of change over the past year....I am ready for more. I just started "The Artist's Way"....for the 2nd time. I received it as a gift almost 4 years ago and was extremely excited about it, but looking back, I was far from being in a good place in life to really pursue and commit to the 12 week study.
Would you believe that I'm actually more nervous about exploring and showing my creative self than i was about becoming a mother? For nearly 10 years I have sat in the shadows watching others do what they love, do what they dream. To this day I have people say..."I had no idea you sing". And every time it's like a slap in the face...me slapping myself in the face. I get nervous singing to my own child, I try to avoid sound-checking my microphone if I can so that no one can hear just MY voice. And I'm so tired of it. I'm so tired of being scared.
But the scariest part..and maybe the reason that I feel it's time to really work on this, is wondering how much of my own creative struggle and fear will rub off on my child. I know I won't always be the best version of myself for her, but she at least deserves to MEET the happiest version of me. I honestly don't know how I've become so non-chalant about not doing the things that I love for so long.
Hence, why it's time to work on this. I...am...terrified.
Would you believe that I'm actually more nervous about exploring and showing my creative self than i was about becoming a mother? For nearly 10 years I have sat in the shadows watching others do what they love, do what they dream. To this day I have people say..."I had no idea you sing". And every time it's like a slap in the face...me slapping myself in the face. I get nervous singing to my own child, I try to avoid sound-checking my microphone if I can so that no one can hear just MY voice. And I'm so tired of it. I'm so tired of being scared.
But the scariest part..and maybe the reason that I feel it's time to really work on this, is wondering how much of my own creative struggle and fear will rub off on my child. I know I won't always be the best version of myself for her, but she at least deserves to MEET the happiest version of me. I honestly don't know how I've become so non-chalant about not doing the things that I love for so long.
Hence, why it's time to work on this. I...am...terrified.
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