So, I have some questions…
What do I do when I realize that the ways in which my husband “hurts” my feelings is more about what I’m not doing for myself than what he’s not doing for me? Suddenly, I can see how most of my issues with him have always been about my lack of self regard. He’s shown me how to love me better.
What do I do when I realize that many of the things that I need to do for my own sanity I never learned how to do? I see resentment at the boys and frustration with Motherhood starting to raise it’s ugly head. How can I really resent them when I am busy hiding behind them? Mothering is a thing, but my work comes easy to me. I can do much more than I am currently doing without too much trouble.
What I am I supposed to do now that I realize that I am parenting the boys the way I wished that I was parented? I tell one truths he may not be ready for. The other one I won’t let out of my sight. I’m not sure three year olds are ready to understand colorism and the other one needs to learn how to nap alone. Why am I not considering who they are at the soul level (er whatever that shit really means) more? Meh.
It’s beautiful to realize these things, but I’m not quite sure what to do with them. How do I apply this wisdom? Do I pray to Mother Earth for help and then look appropriate flower essences? Is this something my ancestors can help me with? Can I magic my way out of this? Should I search for appropriate soul pieces from previous lifetimes to help or contact my future self? Damn, what do I actually have time, money and energy to do?
*Sigh* I have no idea what to do. All I know is that the eighth month old is fussing while the toddler is engaging in water play. No one has had a nap. Hopefully the calvary (hubby) is on his way home soon.
Hooray for eclipse season…kinda 🙂
Take precious care
Since having a second child, I don’t know who I am anymore.
When there was just one child I had space to do shit. We lived in an affordable space with a great babysitter. I was in a space of stability. Regular sleep, regular sex, folks I dig, work that paid… All the things that seemed to anchor my sense of self were present. Then, I got pregnant. Then we found mouse poop under son #1’s chair. Suddenly we purchased a house and had a baby.
Fuck, I am lost. I don’t sleep regularly. I don’t have sex regularly. I know awesome folks, but have no energy or time to socialize. I’ve stopped working. There is really nothing to anchor me except for being Mom. I think being Mom is cute, but I also feel like there is more to me. Or at least there was more to me this time last year.
I need to figure out who I am with two young children. It’s a bit of a daunting task. I always thought that I am what I do and how I spend my time, but I have to be more than that. I must be more than a milk machine that chases a toddler all day. Raising children has meaning, but I want more than that. When they leave I don’t want to be empty. With every age, a woman changes. Someone new emerges within me all the time. I am looking forward to seeing who emerges next, because I am feeling lost.
After an intense visit with the in-laws and an even more intense visit home, I find myself with a weak heart. When my heart gets weak, I know I’m on the verge of either getting sick or kirking the fuck out. I’d rather not do either, but it’s Tuesday at 6pm and dinner is in 30 min. Guess who puts dinner on the table? All I can think is..I need to be more selfish.
I need to be more selfish with me so I have more to give the boys.
I need to be more selfish with me so I have more to give my husband.
I need to be more selfish with me so I have more to give life.
Now, I’m not sure what exactly being selfish means. I mean..There is so much shit to do around this house. It never stops. Does being selfish mean letting laundry pile up while I dream about a trip to the art museum? Perhaps. Does it mean stealing off to the river to make little offerings and plan a full moon ritual? I hope so 🙂 I guess selfish also means that I can ignore doing the budget, weeding the garden, trimming the bushes, planning playdates and also hold off on making dinner for a friend who just had a baby. This doesn’t feel like selfish. It feels like goofing off. I mean, I’d be happy. But there are still things to do.
Fuck, I don’t know what constructive selfishness looks like. I’m used to plowing through my to-do’s. I just go until there isn’t anything left to do. Then I smile and collapse in bed feeling satisfied. I am used to always having space where there is no one to touch me, talk to me or suck on me. That shit doesn’t exist with two little ones. There is always something or someone wanting attention. Always.
I don’t know what me-time looks like because there is so little of it. An hour here, 30-45 minutes there. Can’t do shit with that but plot and eat ice cream while the toddler or husband ain’t looking. The baby is too young to say shit about wanting some yet. So, I guess that’s selfish for now. Meh….
Take Precious Care of yourself