After months of feeding my newborn, changing her diapers and occasionally getting a shower, I realized something was missing. Balance. I had no clue how to find the magical formula until I attended a yoga class.
Posts in the "Motherhood Realized" category:
Ever feel stagnant? Frustrated that you are constantly running…but never making the progress that you dream of? Give yourself some credit. Maybe you are growing–it’s just invisible.
Last week, as I picked up the SAME clutter around the house for the umpteenth time and made the SAME meals and did the SAME laundry, the repetitive mundane aspects of motherhood started to get me down. But then this poem came to me…
I went to bed shedding a few tears of frustration. Why? Because sometimes I get tired of being “The Bad Guy”. It would be easier to let them eat Cocoa Puffs in front of the TV every day this summer. But, we all want more for our children, don’t we?
It was like watching the clouds changing shapes in the sky. Our sandwiches were always changing into some other form: a dinosaur, a mountain, the state of Alaska. Years later, I recall the experience and I am filled with nostalgia as I realize my mother was always teaching us how to see a new shape and take on a new form. She is still at work.
As I wait at Target, I notice a young couple with a newborn in line behind me. Another lady in line asks. “Is this your first?” They nod proudly. ”Just wait…” she snorts, and then follows with a comment about unruly teenagers. We seem to live in a country overrun by a great lot of negative naysayers when it comes to parenting.
My life is crazy. And if I think too much about how crazy it is I might actually go crazy. But I don’t. (Think about how crazy and hard it is.) Most of the time. I just do. And do some more.
It seems silly that I have to think of this occasionally, but, yes, in addition to all the hats we wear at this party called parenthood, Mommy is a person.
There’s this crazy phenomenon going on right now. Good, devoted mothers get on Pinterest . . . .and blogs . . .. and Facebook . . . .and Twitter . . . and they’re convinced they’re not enough. Here’s what I’ve discovered.
I sat beside the tub and poured water over Ivy’s belly, wishing I could make the noise and chaos behind me disappear.
It was me they needed. More of my time, more of my energy, more of me.
Nothing can really prepare you to get a phone call from the geneticist telling you that your child has a really rare syndrome that will change her life, and that of your entire family forever…even if you and your husband already knew it in your hearts.
There were a lot of years when I thought I would never walk by the diaper aisle at the grocery store without stocking up…I dreamed of the days that I would be able to sleep in instead of waking to that annoying alarm clock and dragging myself out of bed…