On Being a Mom

I once heard that being a mom comes naturally, that once you step into the role, you just do what you need to do out of instinct. I think someone told me that to ease my worries, but I have found it to be not completely true. And, believing that every other mother in the world must know how to raise a child more effectively than I did caused me further worry. While the nurturing aspects of motherhood did come very easily for me (I was the type of mother who was talking to her child in the womb-before she even had ears), the organizational aspects did not. It has taken me every minute of these past nearly six years to arrive at the point that I'm at now, many of those minutes filled with fear and anxiety over how I could never get my child anyplace on time, how I could never seem to do enough to energize her mind, etc., etc., etc. I believe that most mothers agonize over these issues, but I truly feel that when it comes to being an organized, on time, full throttle mommy, it's taken me more time than the average bear to get the hang of this thing.

As a child, I was a laid back soul. Moving into the teenage years, I pretty much kept up that aspect of my personality, to the point that I began having difficulties getting to places on time. I particularly struggled with this in college, though some of that was linked to problems with anxiety. The other part of it, the habit that followed me after I graduated, was an inability to stay focused on my goals for the day. I am so easily distracted that, if I'm not careful, I will spend four hours puttering around our home when I should be somewhere else. The problem today is that I have a little girl who counts on me to get her to classes and field trips and movies and everyplace else on time. When I fail in this I feel I've failed her, and that hurts very deeply. Therefore, when the secular year broke into 2010, I made a resolution (in spite of the fact that I'd previously made a resolution not to make resolutions) to start being on time, not just for my daughter's engagements but for mine as well. I hate being late; it causes me stress and upsets the people who are waiting for me. And I hate not being organized as well, because if I don't start the day off on the proverbial right foot and early, there is no way I can accomplish everything I'd like to (or need to) in the hours I have ahead of me, and I spend the duration of those hours rushing around like a mad woman. This is not comfortable for me or my daughter, and it leaves me with scant time to play with her and just enjoy those special moments that happen during the day. Little things like wild flowers on the side of the road during a stroll (my daughter loves picking a few and giving them to me to put into water when we get home), watching that cool way our dog tips his head to the side when I ask him if he wants to go for a walk, nuzzling my cat's neck, pausing to check out my daughter's newest artistic creations, are all precious moments that don't occur quite the same way twice. We miss so much of the good stuff when we're stressed out because we wasted away time earlier in the day and are struggling to catch up.

Now, six years or so into motherhood, I feel like I'm beginning to relax into a comfortable rhythm, and to be okay with letting go of that bohemian type of existence. I've taken my daughter to a couple of events this week and we were on time for both and unstressed when we left our home because I allowed her enough time to wake up slowly and not rush through breakfast. I'm exploring fun things we can do over the rest of the summer and beyond, and looking forward to the coming homeschool year with nervous anticipation. I'm loving following a schedule of sorts (while I love eating dinner at 6:00pm, I haven't always been very good at getting dinner on the table for that time). I'm beginning to learn the skills that both my mother and grandmother seemed to magically possess. We were always out of bed on time, in bed sleeping on time, eating dinner on time, at roughly the same point on the clock every day. There was a continuity and rhythm to life that I remember finding security in. Of course, there is always wiggle room for special occasions and those days when life doesn't quite work out the way we've planned it. But there is also the comfort of knowing that yes, we will be able to make that 10 a.m. appointment on time, or being fairly sure that we will be eating dinner before 8:00 p.m. I will always be the artist, the creative soul, the somewhat free spirit. Today, though, I'm also a Mom. That's the most precious role I've ever played, and I intend to fill it with as much gusto as my body, heart, and soul can muster.

Time to Draw!!! Yay!!!!

My daughter's next door friend came over today, and they decided to have a craft day. They spent the day happily creating "aliens" from spoons, gluing weeds onto paper and creating picture gardens, and harvesting straws from juice boxes to create something I have yet to view.

This semi-free time meant that I, too, could create, and I gladly pulled out colored pencils, reference materials, and the drawing I've been working on. I've now completed the drawing phase and began laying down color.

I've been pleasantly amazed at the little spaces of time that have opened up here and there over the past few months. I've gone from not drawing at all to experiencing small (and sometimes large) chunks of time wherein I can create to my heart's content. I cherish it, especially after so much time away from doing my artwork on anything approaching a regular basis.

I can't help but wonder if buying that pad of Bristol board and forming a conscious and very definite decision to create has anything to do with my newfound "art time". When I purchased that pad, I knew I'd use it; somehow, the act of buying felt like it contained a tiny spark of magic. Since that day, I've decided on a series I'd like to create, and the time to work on it has been popping up, not everyday but enough to make me feel a bit more complete.

Magic isn't always about spells and organized rituals. It's something that can happen everyday, as we put heartfelt intention into our actions. It's an everyday part of life, if only we remain open to seeing it.


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On Healthy Eating...

This morning I pulled on a pair of my favorite capris, only to find that they seemed to be quite a bit tighter than they were when last I wore them. I told myself that they were simply tight from being washed, but that fantasy has worn off, since now, a few hours later, they still feel tight. Oof.

I knew this day was coming; I've been noticing a little extra belly going on when I get undressed at night. I just didn't think things had gone quite this far. Now, it's time to start working out three times a week again (like I used to do before I started becoming the queen of workout slacking), start eating healthier, and start managing my portions better. I have no interest in becoming a size 2 runway model wannabe. At any rate, it would be impossible for me; I'm 5'5" and my bones would not allow me to be a size 2. Ever. Even when I was in junior high school I was a size 6, and I was thin then, and not fully matured in the hip department. What I would like is to be my ideal weight and shape, slim but curvy. This should be an achievable goal to reach, without the need for crazy, unhealthy dieting or questionably safe pills. I'm not willing to make myself sick for the sake of losing weight, and I don't mind if it takes time to get to where I want to be, so long as it happens eventually (though I'd like to start seeing results sooner than later). Tomorrow morning, I will get up at 5am and drive to the gym, just like I did on Friday. And, I will battle my sugar addiction in earnest!

Wish me luck, please...

Diversity

Over the recent fourth of July weekend my family and I took a vacation to St. Augustine, Florida. The trip is only a five hour jaunt for us, and we have friends living there who we hadn't seen in about two years, and just getting out of town for a few days felt like a necessity. We hadn't taken a family vacation in quite some time, and the bonding that can occur during such journeys was something we joyfully anticipated. While we were on our way to enjoy brunch at the Casa Monica, my sister in law phoned to tell us my husband's father had suffered a stroke while at the nursing home visiting with my mother in law. This was sad news and very unexpected, as to all appearances he was healthy as an ox and had been active up to that point, playing tennis with friends on a regular basis as he has for many years. As I type, he has been moved from intensive care and is engaging in rehabilitation, but he has not yet regained his speech, other than to say "yes" and "no" and he is frustrated, as are we. This news cast a sadness over the day, but we browsed the funky downtown shops and art galleries with our friends and tried to move forward into the next day with a more cheerful outlook. We took a trolley ride around downtown St. Augustine and then, later, watched the fireworks sparkling over the fort which overlooks the water. The city put on a beautiful show, though I'm not sure if our little ones had more fun watching the fireworks or chasing each other around with the new light sabers our friend purchased for them at a kiosk close by!

One part of the trip disturbed me a bit. Downtown St. Augustine boasts some beautiful old churches, and my husband, being the good Catholic boy that he is, wanted to attend a service in one of them. Since a mass was being held at around 5:00pm, we decided to attend that one, since we knew that Sunday morning the church would most likely be crowded and we would most likely not be rising very early. While his faith is not mine, I can usually pull some useful morsel of spirituality out of whatever service I am attending, so long as my mind is open enough to do so. The key to this is listening for the words that touch my heart, and disregarding some of the theology with which I disagree. On this day, however, doing this was nearly impossible. The priest in residence spent most of the sermon talking about how our country was founded on Christian beliefs, how in the early days only Christians were allowed to hold positions in governmental offices (and he spoke these latter words as if this was a good thing), how we should fight against the legality of abortion (I don't take abortion lightly but feel that making it illegal is extreme and wrong and sets a dangerous precedent). It seemed that every word he spoke resounded with the idea that Christians are somehow superior to the rest of us, which struck me as highly arrogant and distasteful. At one point, when he talked about the former requirement of Christianity being one's religion if one wanted to hold a position in the political arena, I could not resist speaking aloud (though quietly) that such an idea didn't seem very fair to me. I'm sure that a few of the people around me heard what I said, though nobody gave me any dirty looks. I noticed that a small number of people left the mass before it was over, though I'm not sure what their reasons were. When I was in college, I read extensively about religion, as well as feminism. I've read things about the early days of Christianity (and Catholicism in particular) that made my skin crawl-forced conversions, abuse of people of other faiths, etc. Most recently, the Catholic church has been blamed for sexual abuse and has admitted to having knowledge that they counted some "troubled souls" among their ranks-people who should not have been allowed anywhere near children. I'm not here to bash Catholics or Christians. What I am saying is that it bothers me intensely when anyone of any particular religion tells me that their way is the only pathway to God, the only right way to practice spirituality. There are many spiritual traditions in the world, many paths to the Higher Power, the Creator, or whatever you personally call your deity or deities of choice. I wish that people would do a little more research before they start belittling the religions of others. If they'd delve a bit more into history, into the history of religion specifically, they might open their minds to the sameness rather than the differences (which is what I try to do when I attend a service such as this one). Recently, I read that the Egyptians actually included a tree of life in their theological beliefs, and the there is some evidence that the Israelites carried some Egyptian spiritual beliefs with them as they formed their own monotheistic religion. When one delves a bit, one might discover how religion has evolved, how many of the traditions practiced today were borrowed from other spiritual paths. Similar mythologies can be found carried through different religions with slight alterations.

In the end, I said a silent prayer of my own and slogged through the rest of the service (the longest I'd ever been to, it seemed). At one point, the congregation sang a song based on the prayer of St. Francis, which I find to be beautiful and which made me feel somewhat better. I returned home with a renewed sense of gratitude for the friends I've who share my own spiritual beliefs, as well as the friends of different faiths who don't belittle me for not believing exactly what they do. Concentrating on the values we share and accepting our friends for who they are is important if we wish to move through this world as peaceful warriors.

Blessed be.