eyes up

Today I thank my husband and co parent.  Because of him I've had the last 2 Saturday mornings "off" ...

Just me. Doing things.  I've chosen low hanging fruit -- the most crucial of my personal beauty needs to address first... hair and eyebrows and feet.  Doesn't take much to recenter me. Or make me feel the gentle wave of a perspective re-jigger.

Yes.  taking care of myself feels vital.  Small gestures of pampering feel miraculous. The simple act of walking alone down the street feels freeing and light.  My brain synapses are re-aligning.  Oh yes.  I am still here.

Makes me feel hope for more time.  To write. Read. Think. Plan. Want. Dream. Sleep. Miss. Remember. 

And the small time loosens the vice-grip of managing and shuffling and carrying and feeding. Keeping hunger, sleep and mood regulation all in balance for 3 people. 

Yes. There is a life inside of me still living.

Even when all eyes are used to pointing down.

I think we're alone now

This is desktop wallpaper called, Quiet, Still, Alone.

I guess this day was bound to happen.

Mark away for the day.
Lewis at nursery.
Me freaking hallelujah on my own on a day during the week, with no clients. 

It is a day I have fantasised about. 
Often.
No one to pay attention to except me. No nap schedule except my own. I could have on loudest music or be ensconced in calm silence. I could go see a matinee. Or wander aimlessly.  Or walk with purpose and intent to get somewhere. Somewhere NEW! Somewhere that babies aren't allowed. OR I could read! Or think clever thoughts. Call friends. Do some marketing for coaching. Take a water wastingly long, hot shower.

It is now 1:30 in the afternoon.

No long leisurely shower.  (OK any shower for that fact)


No smart thoughts about anything.


No dancing in my underwear a la Risky Business.


I dropped off the boy and ...

I have eaten nachos.

I have washed and folded 3 loads of laundry.

I have emptied the dishwasher and all the garbages. 

I have organized the recyclables.

I managed a Sainsbury delivery.

I changed the sheets.

And I have cleaned the flat.

And now, I think ... I don't know what do.

There is only a little bit more free time.  It is fleeting. And going fast.

This is what happens, I think, to mothers. First reaction is to do the normal things. 

And do them in peace. And fast. And with concentration.  Alone. Blissfully.

It feels so relaxing to be alone. To take one's eyes off the ball (or kid as it were) and just let the mind flop a bit. 

Is this the new dream? To be silent in my brain? Those other things sure sound nice. And what feels even nicer is to know those things are still out there.

I just think I'd need several weeks of this quiet to remember how. 

what I've learned in 12 months

People have been asking me how I feel about having a 1-year old. And to be honest, it never occurred to me to be anything except relieved.  And didn't it go fast? Well, only in retrospect.  The days were often an exercise in Getting Through. Nights sometimes a blur.  I felt like I was often riding the crest of managing it all only to fall into near collapse as soon as the boy had finally fallen asleep for the night.

Honestly, I found this year many things: Surreal. Testing. Surprising. Lovely. Engrossing. Frustrating. Scary. Tender. Enriching. And, well, HARD!

Maybe it is because I never ever babysat or had any experience with babies except for an occasional, quick and fearful hold of a pal's offspring.  I've never been broody.  Babies seemed nice, if foreign beings.

And my own sweet boy really was no exception. I remember going out with him in total fear that he would kick off crying and I Wouldn't. Know. How. To. Make. It. STOP.

And in fact, that did happen on occasion.  I often felt like he was an unpredictable bomb which may go off at any time.  It made me twitchy and jumpy.  Not that he was by any means a particularly fussy or troubled wee babe.  I was just a fussy and troubled mum. 

Slowly, very slowly, I started to trust myself. Started to understand what he wanted, needed and took pride that going into MY arms often made it all better.

And now. Yes, Really only now, 12 months later, do I feel a bit calmer.

More space to relax into motherhood. Relish in the sunny, clear and uncomplicated love. Soak in the loveliness of holding hands. 

And in getting to know my very sweet, smiling, curious, affectionate and heart melting boy, I am growing into the mother I want to be.

But the best thing is hearing my very favourite all time word.

Mama.

time to think

My transition from non parent to parent is still a bit clunky. After almost eleven months of sliding along the scale of Not Really Worrying At All to Complete Obsession and 200% attachment to Getting Things Right, I am feeling a bit fried.

My pal and parenting mentor Hanna told me that parenting really underscores your personal failings and your personal  abilities.  Hooo Haaa. Very right. My failings are really in bold these days.

I can spend many many hours paying attention, and playing and encouraging and keeping the boy from ovens, sockets, fireplaces, corners, toilets,  pointy things. I distract while swiftly changing a nappy on a standing, crawling and squirming boy. I even assist on  *some* of the poopy ones. (One of the many reasons I love Mark. ) I can read and cuddle and soothe and tickle. I plan the meals he will eat. And those that his parents may even enjoy too. I marvel over his chewing and drinking and feeding his small self many food items while not losing my shit that so much of it is being thrown overboard the high chair tray or at me. I nurse. I prepare the many items needed for our outings to music class, swimming, a walk in the park or a lunch date. I restock. I launder. I go up and down the stairs. I walk the hills. I monitor mood shift and eye rubbing for the near imperceptible but imperative signs that a nap is needed ... within the next 10 minutes or Never. I coo and stroke and hum and mmmmm and head rub to sleep. Sometimes up to 45 minutes. Three times a day.

It is no great surprise that on the Saturdays that I have declared "mine" I have a hard time relinquishing control of all of the above.  Mark knows how and what to do yet I watch and listen to myself snarkily reminding of naps, what happens "now" and interpreting all situations like he isn't here every day. (um, he is. He knows.)  I cringe when I hear myself. It is like those people who won't call in sick to work when they are sick because they are "too needed". Phooey.  The boy will be more than fine with his pop. He will enjoy the different style of parenting his company.

It is a bit of a racket, this motherhood trap we can get in. I want to be more than a mom/ I AM more than a mom. And yet I find it so easy to gets sucked into the very minutae of the routine of caring for a baby. It literally does my head in.

And it is also no great shakes that here on my day off, I am a bit unsure what to do with myself. Part of me cries to go OUT. On my OWN. See movies! Drink coffee in public quietly and READ!  Window shop! Paint my toes! See Friends!  Exercise! Explore! Get a hobby! SLEEP! All the things I crave when I am in full motherhood mode and my attention and psychic energies are all used up. Yet when the day gets here, I Just. Want. To. Stop. Doing. Ahhhhh. Commence staring into space and emptying head of all attention to anyone anything.

What I am learning is that I need perspective. Over and Over. I need to loosen the white knuckle grip. I need to relax. Much More. I need to practice being a different kind of parent ... the laid back kind. I need to be a mother and so much more.  I need to work on the much more part.  I need to give myself permission to get it wrong sometimes. I need to be less grumpy and more grateful. I need to trust my co-parent. I need to find a new balance between Caring and Attentive Mother and Crazy and Controlling Meanie.

And I need time to think.

what a girl wants

I had 5 minutes recently and scribbled a list of Things I Would Like to Do To Stay Normal.

It was surprisingly short. And surprisingly simple.

1. Read books
2. Talk to Lex
3. Write in blog
4. Go out with friends for dinner alone
5. Go out with Mark alone
6. Go to movies on my own
7. Exercise class

Those are the things in my life I am not doing that I want to do.  I note that 6 of the 7 are things On My Own.  I think that is the theme.  As much as I love being a mom, I am craving silence in my head and having my attentions elsewhere.  Now he is crawling and seriously mobile, it will be even more of a challenge to keep my eyes on HIM at all times. 

My eyes need to glaze over sometimes. Or stare at a big movie screen showing an independent film as I eat some smuggled bakery. My eyes need to focus on a juicy novel for 30 or more minutes at a stretch. My eyes need to see nightlife and humanity outside of the home after 6 p.m. 

My ears need to be free of straining to hear a pip or a squeak from the baby monitor. Turning the volume down on all noise in the house. I need to be loud. I need to get out. 

My brain needs to express the big and small revelations of my life. Witness and record some happenings. I have been too lax at letting the days turn to nights over and over without stopping to be grateful or to notice. 

My body needs more than the endless pram walking I do each day.  Up hills. With a heavy load. I need to wear Lycra and sweat. 

Needing time as a couple. Needing time alone. Needing time with friends. 

Is simple.

They say children grow well when their parents grow well.  

I think it is time I do a bit of growing. 

What Mothers Do, Especially When it Looks Like Nothing:

I started reading this book when the title grabbed me on amazon.

And from the get go, it named so many of my bleary, unformed thoughts. The first book I have come across that doesn't give tips or advice but instead gives quiet affirmation to the millions of tiny things mothers of infants do...

... like being constantly interruptable, or giving the deep comfort a newborn craves, the extreme seriousness of having a giant new responsibility and no training or having zero patience for your partner.

It also speaks to the confusion, anxiety and exhaustion new moms endure.

It gives us new mothers a more realistic perspective calmed me right on down.

Excellent bedtime reading to help sanity with a nice dose of empathy.