Being Mom, Take Two

Your eyes are glassy, blinking slowly as you nurse. I sit here, watching you and run my fingers through your wispy, brown hair. It's growing; I stroke the new layer that clings close to your forehead, and with each stroke, your eyelids briefly close. Your hand rests on my chest: a connecting touch, a point of shared energy. It's midday, and you haven't napped at all. Your gums are stressed, feeling the push of three teeth trying to make their way through. I've tried to put you in bed once, you immediately noticed the change in position, and you cried. So here we are again, in our rocking chair, our favorite spot.

I think back on all of the times I've rocked and rocked and rocked. I think about the sleepless nights, long days. I see me, a much younger, much more impatient mother, feeling frustrated. Being mom, a second time, has brought so many changes. Sure there are the simple lessons learned-- don't overheat the baby food, don't put the Q-tip in the ear too far, a baby doesn't really need all of the items you think they do...

But beyond that, I feel like I've learned or am learning about what is truly important. About time. About connecting. About patience (most of the time... This will always be a challenge!). About seeing their needs and meeting them there, rather than being attached to my agenda and desires. I'm content to sit in this rocking chair for two hours when she is teething and just needs to feel secure while she sleeps. I'm seeing how parenting the boys is changing as they grow. How they need me in a slightly different way than they have before.

I'm accepting myself, my mothering right where it is. I trust that I am always learning, and I am practicing being open to what comes my way. I am learning that I do not need to aspire to perfection- that will always set myself up for failure! Instead, I can aspire to be the best mom that I can be, right here, right now, recognizing and being open to what my children need.

I think back to when the boys were small, and I sometimes feel like I failed them somehow. I question myself- was I too impatient, too frustrated, too selfish? Did I give them what they needed? Did I connect with them enough? Did I wish away time?

But the bottom line is I did the best I could for where I was. They are happy and healthy boys. They are well-adjusted. They are awesome kids, and I'm proud of how they are growing up.

I'm proud of how I'm growing up, too. I'm working on my next set of 40 day goals, and I'm pretty sure one is going to focus on no more apologies! At least not for things that I can't change about myself and the past. I want to keep focusing on being present and also living authentically. Finding out more about who I am and what drives me and then setting intentions to live that truth. And not worrying about being judged (mostly being judged by myself!) I think it will be a great process!

Sunshine

The sunshine and warm spring weather finally returned today! Rowan and I celebrated by going to the park for the first time in a week.

I watched her wander around, marveling at how much she has changed. She walks effortlessly, as if she's always known how. She is starting to say words, and once you show her something, she remembers what it is and will point to it when you ask her where it is. She amazes me, day after day.

And she is simply sunshine, my sunshine. Her happy personality and cheerful disposition fill my days. She loves being ornery, and her satisfying giggle melts my heart. Her smile each morning affirms my decision to resign mid-year. I've grown with her over the past two months, each day learning how to be a better mom.

Our neighbors stop us on our walks, gushing over how adorable she is. They wonder how it is that she's grown so fast already. The ones with adult children, eyes filled with nostalgia, warn us how quickly it goes. I understand this too well. I see pictures of my boys, and that painful longing, the guttural ache for time gone by washes over me. So I try to immerse myself in each stage, in each day, neither longing for the next nor staying absorbed in the past. I see the light, the sunshine each of them brings to my days, and it warms me, reminds me that life is good.

Noise and Learning to Surrender

Yesterday we met most of Hubby's family at Red Robin to celebrate birthdays. Because of the deluge of rain, the restaurant was fairly empty. Empty did not equal quiet. The restaurant had an energy about it; it reverberated across the empty space. The music felt a touch too loud, the table set up a bit too close.

I know myself enough to understand that this was going to be challenging. I'm a quiet person by nature; my body, my self is sensitive to stress and noise. I have to stay very aware of how I'm feeling during moments like this. Otherwise, I easily go into meltdown mode.

Rowan internalized this energy. We can usually go into restaurants with her, and she is very happy, very content to sit with us. Instead, she was fretful, fussy, and unable to sit still. She didn't quite know what she wanted. She was too distracted to nurse. Too overstimulated to play.

The boys felt the energy, too. They were bickering, getting frustrated at the crossword puzzle, kicking each other under the table.

As we were on our way home, Rowan quietly looked out the window. Once we were in the house, she played happily. There was no glimpse of the fretful baby from the restaurant. Jon looked at me and said, "You know- she's so much like you. She doesn't like noise and craziness, either." I nodded in agreement. I could empathize with her. I could understand why the boys were a little bonkers. And that empathy had helped me not to completely snap during lunch even though I could feel the pressure, feel my raw nerves.

Since January, I've been practicing presence and working on my Momfulness journey. I have found another absolutely incredible resource to add to this practice of conscious parenting. Let the Baby Drive is the philosophy of Lu Hanessian. I have been reading through her site, tears streaming down my face. When you find what you identify with, when you resonate at the soul level, it is powerful.

This is how I want and try to parent. This will encourage me to continue to be compassionate, mindful:

To bridge this gap between knowing better and loving better, we must dare to be aware. To see ourselves in our children’s eyes. To embark on healing journey of recognizing what we have been ‘missing’, how the pain of that unmet need has influenced our actions, self-concept, and relationships, have empathy for the child who is still alive in us, and recover the birthright of joy and peace we are here to experience and share. A priceless gift for our children. And theirs.

This art of surrender isn't a complete giving up of control. It isn't allowing the child to railroad the parent. It is the releasing of agendas. It is letting the child navigate. Finding empathy for where a child is and meeting needs. Trusting in our intuitive voices as mothers. It pairs perfectly with my Momfulness practice. It honors the child as an important being, and it brings a deep connection to the mother-child relationship:

The art of surrender is an act of compassion--for ourselves, first and foremost. When we hold that kind of feeling for ourselves, our babies “feel” it too. We hold them slightly differently. We breathe differently. We may stop “bouncing” them so much and start finding more fluid movements that flow with their true needs. We find...synergy.

I look forward to finding synergy with all of my "babies."

Bubbles and Raindrops

What a great weekend! I started my Saturday with a very hard, very hot 8 mile run. Nothing seemed to want to fall into place. I was wheezing despite taking my inhaler. My legs felt tired. I figured it was time for a tough long run, so I pushed through. Even if I was a bit cranky by the end!

The boys were slowly starting to feel better, and the day was so pretty, so we hung out on the deck. They are starting to be in that in between place- between being little kids and being grown kids. Sometimes it's hard for me to see how much they are changing. I found an incredible article this weekend that talks about surrender in the context of parenting a newborn. It has me thinking about how that practice of surrendering can be continued. I have to do some thinking and processing still, but I know that as the boys grow I need to apply this. I love the way my friend at Breath of Sunshine put it- I need to allow them to help guide me on the journey of being their mom.

I'm grateful that I can be present for moments when they forget to be so grown. Moments when they still allow the little kid to shine through. So when they got out the bubbles, I smiled. I watched them play and enjoyed the glimpse, the gift of seeing their younger selves once again.

Sunday started with another run (yes, more miles!!). Even though it was a very rainy day, I was glad to meet my friend at the park. We ran along soggy trails and through muddy puddles, and I was very surprised with how strong I felt even though I had run long the day before. We laughed at ourselves for running in the rain, but we definitely weren't the only crazy people out there. There is something different about running in the rain, and I realized that it feels so great because I reconnect with my inner child-- it's my bubbles! It brought me back to splashing through puddles on my bike when I was little. 4.5 miles has never gone by so easily and so quickly. I was completely out of my head and really enjoying the run. I wasn't worried about miles, time, breathing. It was simply fun.

Lesson from the weekend? Bring on the bubbles, bring on the rain.

Four Mile Therapy

It is weeks like this that I'm glad I have gotten back to running and training. Rowan has been teething. Hubby says it looks like Chiclets are pushing through. And it does! Those front two teeth are so close. But that means I have a clingy, fussy, cranky girl.

On top of that, Pacey has been battling a very strange stomach virus all week. It keeps coming and going, and he hasn't been at school since Tuesday. Today both boys are home. It's been a crazy week.

My plan all week was to do a solo 4 mile run yesterday after Jon got home from work. My resolve wavered as the day wore on. Rowan wouldn't nap anywhere but on me, and she wouldn't let me put her down or walk more than two feet away from her. All of this means that I was still in my pajamas at 5:30 while I was cooking dinner. The dreary weather was not doing much in terms of motivation either.

But as I juggled dinner and a clingy toddler, I noticed blue sky peeking through the grey clouds. I knew a run would balance me. It would give me some quiet, some of me after a demanding week. So I got the kids fed, and as soon as Jon walked in (with flowers! Have I mentioned he's awesome?!), I passed Rowan off, changed my clothes and headed out.

Surprise flowers from Hubby :)

I was curious how my pace would be without the jogger. I hit a 9:30 mile with it earlier this week. I knew I had goal of 4 miles, so I didn't push too hard at first. Here are my stats:

Mile 1: 9:44
Mile 2: 9:58
Mile 3: 9:47
Mile 4: 10:04

Overall it was a great run. I had to catch my breath, briefly, three times, but I haven't seen times like that for a substantial distance in a long time!

I needed that run last night. It was my therapy after a long day and an even longer week. I returned home refreshed and ready to start bedtime with the kids. My mood brightened, and I didn't feel frustrated. I realized last night that running brings out the best part of me. It challenges me, humbles me, and shows me what I'm capable of achieving. It helps me to be better- a better mom, wife... A better me!

A Teacher's Heart

Gage has an amazing teacher. She is patient, nurturing, engaging. She is what I would consider the quintessential second grade teacher. Gage and I both love her. Today my entire perspective changed. Today, if it's even possible, I love her more.

We usually see her get out of her car with her daughter when we are waiting for time to go into school. If she sees us, she waves. Today we arrived at school early, so we were first in line at the parent drop off station, and I saw her car drive by. I caught a glimpse of the frame around her license plate: I held one in my arms. My curiosity was piqued. After Gage and I said our goodbyes, I drove around the loop and slowed as I came by her car, so I could read the rest. My breath caught in my chest and my eyes welled with tears. I had to wait a minute to gather myself before I drove again. The part of the frame that I didn't see said: Everyone dreams of angels. Then I noticed the SIDS awareness magnet. My heart ached, and I was in awe of this woman, this mother of six who was already inspirational to me. I cannot imagine suffering the death of a child. I cannot imagine having the strength to continue. Yet this woman, and many others, do. She teaches, she loves my Gage. She loves his curiosity, his eagerness for learning. She even loves his struggles with self-control. I see it. I feel it when we talk with her. And now it is so much more meaningful to me. She has clearly suffered, but until I saw her license plate, I would have never known. She continues with grace, with love, and exudes that to those she meets.

I drove home, fighting tears. My heart, flooded with gratitude. Gratitude for three beautiful and healthy children. Gratitude for the opportunity to be their mother. Gratitude for the gift of staying home with Rowan, of being with the boys before and after school. I have always been grateful, but these moments of levity are priceless. These moments force me into the present; they require reflection, reevaluation.

These moments remind me to continue to strive to be present, to be mindful, to be compassionate with my family. To cherish every moment, to love all there is about them, to focus on their happiness, to encourage us all to grow. To resist the urge, the ingrained impulse, to get overwhelmed, to be impatient and frustrated.

May I continue to be a teacher to my children, to shape them with loving hands. May I hold the presence gained today more constantly, without the need for poignant reminders. But may I be open to these reminders as they come my way.

Yes, Still

While I was nursing Rowan last week, someone asked me when I was going to be finished. I had been dreading Rowan's first birthday because I knew that I'd start facing questions, some merely curious, some almost disapproving. Questions that could cause me to second guess my decision to continue with "extended" breastfeeding.

Admittedly, I used to think it was a little strange to nurse a toddler. My experience with nursing babies has grown with each of my three children. With little support, little knowledge, and a baby with latching troubles, I only nursed Pacey for 2 weeks. After returning to work, having limited time to pump, and developing mastitis, I felt satisfied with making it to 6 months with Gage. My goal with Rowan was a year. And she and I have had our fair share of issues, but we have gotten through them.

I quickly learned that with a high-needs baby like Rowan, I could throw feeding schedules, sleeping schedules, and anything related to structure out the window. This pushed me to my limit. I like structure. Schedules? Yes, please! So not being able to count on predictable feeding schedules was a challenge. I am typically a 'by the book' person, so the fact that she wasn't waiting 2-3 hours between her feedings caused me to feel like I was failing. Then I found Dr. Sears. When I read things from him, I realized I was still a 'by the book' person. Just a different book! He encouraged holding babies as much as they wanted, wearing them frequently. Hubby used to ask, playfully, if I ever put her down. Both of these I already did, but a small voice inside questioned whether it was okay. Dr. Sears confirmed what my instincts were telling me. It was okay, and she needed it.

I remember the day when my struggle with breastfeeding ended. Rowan was crying. An inconsolable cry. I bounced her. I rocked her. I swaddled her. Nothing worked. I looked at my feeding app. She had recently eaten, so I figured there was no way she was hungry. But after nothing else I did worked, I grabbed the Boppy and decided to nurse her. She fumbled for a minute, still overwrought that it had taken her mama so long to figure out what she wanted, but she latched and immediately calmed. Suckling vigorously for a bit and then falling into a milk drunk sleep. I relaxed and realized that nursing didn't necessarily have to do with hunger; nursing provided her with comfort. She wouldn't nap anywhere else during the day, and my new motto quickly became, "When in doubt, whip it out." I deleted my feeding app and instead adopted the practice of cue feeding. She was smart and could tell me when she needed me. And if it meant that I spent the better part of the day on the couch, so be it. And now, a year later, I don't regret those quiet, nursing naps. There was nothing else I'd rather have been doing.

Today, I tried to take a teething, clingy, and cranky baby on a run. We got back home just as she was reaching her threshold. We settled into the rocking chair, and she quickly nursed to sleep. I listened to her contented swallows and studied her sweet face. Her hand instinctively reached up and found my face and lingered there until she found deep sleep. A year may have passed, but my little high-needs baby still needs this. As I type, she is nursing and sleeping. She woke up after only thirty minutes, still half asleep, and I knew she wasn't ready to wake up yet. Are there things I could be doing right now? Definitely. My hair is still wet from my shower. The house is still in disarray from our kitchen remodel. Does any of that matter right now? Not at all. This baby girl will only be a baby for a brief moment in time. She will eventually not need or want to nurse so much, and when that happens, we will fondly say goodbye to that part of our journey. Until then, I'm trusting that I'm providing her with nourishment to grow... physically and emotionally.

Screaming and Speeding

... not always at the same time, but today? Yes!

Rowan has never been a fan of the car, which is why we haven't ventured any further than Chesapeake with her. Most extended car rides result in at least 10-15 minutes of screaming, and if an outing has more than two ins and outs of the car, she goes into total meltdown mode. So after another screaming car ride yesterday, I told Hubby that I was going to turn her seat around. She's one, she's 20 pounds, and I know "they" recommend that babies now ride rear facing for at least two years, but I have to try something to make our daily trips to the boys' school bearable. The fact that she cried for just about the whole 30 minute ride this morning sealed the deal. I turned her seat around during her nap. And during our afternoon car ride, she was so much more pleasant.

At first. Then not so much.

Don't worry-- I took both of these pictures at stoplights. And since today was a trying day (I think she is teething), I even joined in on the meltdown. I definitely didn't remember my breathing meditation today. I think I'll print it out and post it in my car as a reminder.

The other screaming and speeding incident was during my morning run. Look at this time!

The trails and hills at the park during my long runs must be doing their jobs if I can easily pound out a mile in 9:30 while pushing the jogger in the wind and not feel like I am going to die! It helped that Rowan decided to cry for the entire second mile-- there is nothing like a little vocal encouragement from my running partner to kick my butt and keep me moving!

We stopped at the park mid-run and played. While I watched her wander around and explore, I felt so grateful, so present with the gifts of the day. I was enjoying my perfect girl, during beautiful weather, in the middle of a fabulous run. What is better than that?

One Year

Dear Brown Baby,
Today you turn one, and I find myself at a loss for how this time has slipped away so quickly. It doesn't seem so long ago that we found out we were having a baby and now I look down, and you are running all over the house.
There was a time when I fully believed that I was finished having babies. I couldn't see going back to this place, this world of little sleep and constant need. But one day that changed, and I knew you were waiting to become a part of this family.

You are a spirited girl. You've taught me to be patient, to be flexible, to be responsive. I've become a better mom to all of my kids because of the presence you've encouraged me to maintain.

I've learned to slow down. I now know just how fleeting babyhood is. So I linger. I sometimes hold you while you nap, ignoring the dishes in the sink and the laundry piles, knowing all too well that soon, too soon, these quiet moments will only be a painful longing, a sweet memory.

You've united our blended family- you are the common ground, the link we all share. We find joy in you and your shenanigans; we exchange smiles, we share laughter. We have come to know a shared love that is often a challenge to achieve when you come from varied pasts. That may sound like a hefty weight for someone so small, but it requires no work on your part. It is part of the blessing of having you in our lives.

I often marvel at this chance, this privilege to be your mama. I look at you, see your round face, your sweet lips, your happy eyes, and I thank God for this second chance. I thank God that he brought you to us, that he knew that I wasn't finished just yet.

As we close this chapter of your life, as you say goodbye to babyhood, and you leap into toddlerhood, I am ambivalent. I miss the curled up, cuddly baby you once were, but I'm so in love with the floppy, independent toddler you are becoming.

Right now, you have given me a gift, a sweet glimpse at your younger days- you have nestled in for an unscheduled nursing nap. I sit here on the couch and take you in. Your even breaths, the weight of your head on my arm. There is no place I'd rather be, nothing I'd rather be doing than holding you right now, being your safe place to sleep.

Happy birthday, my sweet girl! I look forward to all of our adventures.

Always Learning

It's amazing where you find inspiration if you are open and paying attention. Over the weekend we were at the doctor's, and during the extremely long wait, I picked up a catalog for ridiculously overpriced baby furniture. On the first page, I found this:

How incredible and filled with truth! This simple, yet meaningful statement has caused me to reflect quite a bit on how I've changed over the past ten years of being a mother, and I've been filled with a deep sense of gratitude for my children. They have inspired me to continually strive to be a better person. I could get caught up in so many regrets, absorbed in so many times that I was selfish. I was quite a different person and mother at 22 than I am now at 32. But I'm not going to get stuck in a cycle of regrets, instead I've focused on being present, and looking back, I know that I was the best mother I was able to be at the time. I know I provided a loving presence to my boys, and I know that I owe so much to them in terms of how I've grown. They remind me to laugh, to be present, and to relax. For someone who gets stuck in her head all of the time, it's perfect, and I am learning to be more open to it.

We went for a walk yesterday, and as Rowan and I watched the boys zoom ahead on their scooters, I wistfully thought to a time when they would have stayed right beside me. I'm learning to let them go a little at a time, to urge them exercise their independence, and to encourage them to be brave and courageous. I had to fight back the urge to shout their names and tell them to come back, they were going too far ahead. But that would have been selfish, that would have been thinking of my needs instead of theirs. I saw our timeline lay out before me... Pacey in the front, Gage in the middle, Rowan still close, and I realized there is beauty in these moments of struggle. I could hang back and watch the grown boys that they've become, I could let go of what I felt they should be doing and just watch them be. That is a wonderful feeling of release, to loosen the control and to trust and be present in my parenting of them. To me, this is part of living a better life for them and filling our experiences with love, beauty, and goodness.

And even more beautiful was the moment when Pacey slowed down just a bit and allowed me and Rowan to catch up with him, so he could walk with us for the last stretch.

I turned to the next chapter in my Momfulness book this morning, and I realized I was practicing the next meditation yesterday without even knowing it. The practice of being present and just watching my children play. Without interfering, without controlling, without guiding the experience to be what I think it should be. To delight in their selves, to see the world from their vantage point. To trust and to know that if they go on ahead, they will come back for snuggles, for reassurance, for affirmation. And because I haven't been absorbed with my own agenda, because I haven't created stress, I am more available to give them what they need in those moments-- to be present with them, enjoy them, nurture them, and continue to learn from them.

Small Things

I was talking to my friend Kristy at Breath of Sunshine, and she really got me thinking. In her journey to adapt to life with a new baby and an elementary schooler, she mentioned that she needs to celebrate the small things. Isn't this so true? I know that it is easy for moms to get overwhelmed by the magnitude of our jobs. Raising these little beings into well-rounded, happy, and healthy adults is a monumental task, and we take it very seriously. So seriously that often, we perceive we are failing. And failing miserably.

Or is it just me?

I completely understood her excitement about a successful bus stop trip, and I realized that those are the moments that really matter, that we build from as we mother our children. These moments deserve to be celebrated. Not only because they build our confidence as mothers, but because they are meaningful to our children, too.

Have the boys seen me struggle with balancing their needs with the needs of a baby? I know they have, and it hasn't always been graceful. Does this mean I have failed as a mother? In some moments, I believe that I have. When I feel vulnerable about my abilities, when I do not maintain presence, when I lose my temper, when all the plates I'm spinning come crashing down, I see a failure of a mom, someone who can't hold it all together.

But here's the important question that begs to be asked. Would my boys or Rowan see me as a failure? Despite the moments when I behave as less than what television has told us is right and the norm, they most definitely would not. And why? Because of the small things.

So here's to the small things that need to be celebrated, here's to mothering in the moment, and loving all of the experiences motherhood brings...

• Here's to making Valentine's Day brownies with the boys while Rowan happily snacked on Goldfish crackers in her high chair. (This is HUGE for us!)
• Here's to making it through homework time this week without anyone getting frustrated. (Another BIG feat.)
• Here's to getting meatloaf (a favorite dinner) in the oven.
• Here's to slow and unrushed bedtime storytimes, three nights in a  row.

Have there also been moments this week when I've been a little less than June Cleaver? Sure, and those are important, too. They remind me that I'm human, they give my boys opportunities to see that sometimes parenting is hard, and they give me something to work on. I think I'll try to post some of my small victories each week. To help me remember celebrate who I am as a mother and where I am on my journey.

Whispers

There will be big changes happening at the Rock House in the coming weeks. I've lamented and struggled about returning to work since Brown Baby was born. Poor Hubby had to see me heartbroken as the final days of my maternity leave drew to a close. I would cry hard tears if he or anyone alluded to August and returning to work. I would look at my baby girl, and my stomach would clench because I recognized that all that she knew of life (being home with me) was about to change quite a bit. My heart ached for both of us.

Being the financial wizard that he is, Hubby put together a plan to pay down some of our bills, so I could stay home with her after this school year was over. From August to July is such a very long time, especially in the life of a baby, but I was joyful at the prospect of one day being able to stay home with her and being more available to the boy-os. Even with this knowledge, I struggled. I cried daily at the separation from my sweet girl even though I know she was very well cared for at our beloved babysitter's home.

Hubby and I have often wondered how I made it through returning to work after I had the boy-os. I don't know. I know I was sad at first, but somehow I did it. Maybe it is maturity and knowing how fast kids grow, maybe it is because I knew staying home simply wasn't an option. Maybe it was because I was so miserable at home, so work was an escape. Whatever the reason, my heart was not nearly as broken then as it has been for the last six months. This heartbreak, this intense longing told me that I needed to be home with her and the boy-os, and I trudged through work each day, moving one step closer to that reality.

In early fall, our circumstances changed. Hubby's new position at work provided me the option of not having to work until July. I struggled to make a decision. I have invested ten years in the school system; it has been the only "real" job I've ever had, and I was nervous about breaking my contract. I quibbled many times about what to do, but it was over Christmas break, as I settled into a daily routine of sweet, easy mornings and quiet nursing naps in the rocking chair, that I realized I could no longer ignore my heart's whisperings. Time clips along too quickly to quibble; babies grow in the blink of an eye; small boys turn into big boys without notice. I had the opportunity to be more available to all of them, to be more present, to be happy and fulfilled by just being their mom all day. As anxious as I was to make a huge decision, I knew had to take advantage of that blessing.

God works in wonderful ways, and once I made the decision to resign early, and Hubby and I named a date, I felt peace. A peace that has been fleeting since I returned to work. I wasn't waking up with dread anymore. I wasn't looking at the calendar and seeing July, a small, far away beacon of light. I felt peace knowing that despite Hubby's busy work schedule, I would be able to regain order and balance in our house that is so elusive when both parents work (especially when a baby is part of the mix). I felt peace knowing that I will have more time to devote to the boys and their activities. I have received nothing but positive, supportive, and affirmative comments from friends and coworkers.  Men and women applauding my choice. After I confirmed everything with my principal, I came back to my office and cried. Cried with relief that the resignation process that was a source of anxiety was complete, but more so with joy that one day soon, I will not have to say goodbye to this girl every day.

And though it will be hard to say goodbye to teaching (for now), to say goodbye to so many good friends and colleagues, I look forward to this new adventure, to just being mom.

I wish I could cite the creators of the first two images. I found them on Facebook with no attribution.

Stretched

I've definitely been feeling the pull of three kids this week. Monday afternoon was one of the most challenging afternoons in while due to a very clingy baby and the boys with their mounds of homework. I couldn't sit with them at the table without holding Rowan. I couldn't hold Rowan at the table because she kept trying to eat their papers. I couldn't stand by the table holding Rowan because she kept trying to launch herself onto the table from a few feet above. I lost my patience multiple times. With the boys, with Rowan, and with myself. There was no amount of breathing, no amount of telling myself that this is a wonderful moment that would work to focus me, to help me to be present in that moment and smile.

The pull continued as bedtime ensued.  Rowan wanted to nurse for 40 minutes or more, and every time I thought she was asleep and tried to put her down, she woke up screaming. I thought of my sweet boys who were upstairs, watching TV, waiting for me to come and tuck them in. Guilt creeped in and I struggled not to feel frustrated with Rowan, struggled not to yell out, "You're not the only kid I have!" I know it isn't her fault, and I know that as she approaches the one year mark, she is starting to settle in to things so much better. But the reality is that parenting a high-needs baby is exhausting, and I never feel like I have enough of myself to go around. I gave the screaming girl to Hubby, and I went upstairs and rushed through storytime with the boys. The rushing through part weighed on my conscience for the rest of the night. Afterwards, I realized that I was not present with them, that I could only hear the screaming cries from downstairs, and that I really missed out on that special time we share. It's what my Momfulness book calls absent presence:

The state of being present in the body but not in mind or heart is called absent presense and is actually the state that most of us live in much of the time. It's as if we are walking ghosts. Our children know that we're not really there. They don't feel truly seen or heard by us. Love is a body-to-body experience; when we don't make real contact, our loved ones don't experience the fullness of love. And neither do we.

This passage perfectly describes where I was on Monday night during the boy-os' bedtime routine. I was not really there with them. I was struggling internally with my guilt, my frustrations, and I'd wager they could tell.

This is not how I want to parent them. And it isn't the reality all the time; the breathing meditation helps keep me present quite a bit. More importantly, I'm learning to forgive myself when it isn't enough, when I can't find my smile like I couldn't during homework time. 

In moments like the rushed bedtime and really any interaction with them, this is another practice that I think will help. Now that the breathing meditation has started to become second nature, I'm going to add this to the mix.

Eye Contact Meditation

from Momfulness (I'm summarizing/paraphrasing. She describes it much more eloquently!)

Finding Me

I've posted before about the dramatic effects having a baby has on your self-image, your entire sense of self. Lately, I have been feeling this pretty intensely. I'm not sure if my focus on being present has allowed me to recognize these feelings or if it is simply time for me to do something about it.

Since brown baby's arrival, I've been running off and on, and I love it, but I have either been too tired, too busy or too stressed about taking the time away from the family to run consistently. I have totally lacked motivation, and that is pretty foreign to me because I was at one point a workout whore (my self-titled nickname!).  I have been feeling pretty nostalgic for those days lately. I was so confident and felt so good about how I looked and the clothes that I wore.  I know I've done a pretty decent job in losing the baby weight, but I'm still about 15 pounds away from where I was back in those days.  And about 5 pounds away from where I was right before getting pregnant.

Last week I decided it was time to get serious and really work at finding me again. I know that having a baby redefines you. And this redefinition takes time, too. I'm so incredibly happy and fulfilled by our family, and there are also some big changes coming up that really speak to my heart, too (stay tuned!). The process of redefinition is powerful, and I know that thanks to little Rowan, I am a much better mother to all of my children because I am learning to be so much more in tune to who I am, both as a mother and a person.

I'm so glad I started to reread and rework through my Momfulness book, too, because I really believe I am able to come to many of these understandings through practicing being present and being open to both what I need and what my family needs. I love that I'm taking it slowly through the book this time, rather than speed-reading through it and not really making it a practice.

But let's get back to the point of this post! I've committed to training for two triathlons this year, and I am so incredibly excited at the thought. I'm not sure where in the past four years I lost my motivation for being a "workout whore," but I'm welcoming her back with open arms. I feel like I've rediscovered a part of myself. The part that had gotten lost in the excitement of a new relationship, the frustration of a knee and foot injury, the distraction of pregnancy, and the elation and exhaustion of new motherhood is emerging again. The newness of her presence is pushing me to happily train and train hard. To run faster, bike harder. To look forward to swimming again, to feel cold water envelop me and to welcome the burn in my arms.  I want to raise a banner over me that says, "Finally! Welcome back! (And please don't stay away for so long again!)"

So here's to a renewal of fitness, of health, of ME. My first event will be Breezy Point on June 3rd (which was my first tri ever) and the second will be the Patriot Sprint on September 9th. I'm also planning to do some short running races, too.

I can't wait to have my race number scrawled on my arm again!

Mornings

This is a tough one sometimes, isn't it?

Today the morning found me groggy, tired, and weak, still feeling the pangs of another sinus infection.

Bleary-eyed, I tumbled out of bed to the shower after a night waking every two hours because a sweet baby wanted her mama.

In the mad rush of leaving for the day, Brown Baby clung to my hip, leaving my arm burning from her weight and my heart heavy with our impending separation.

The boy-os argued over DS games, excitedly preparing for their day off of school tomorrow.

Brown Baby planked when I tried to put her in her car seat, screamed in protest to the start of our day, looked pleadingly at me as I buckled her in.

I closed her door and leaned against the car, seeking a quick moment, a quiet reprieve from so much activity so early in the morning. My breath hung stubbornly in the cold, morning air. Its persistence reminded me that to breathe, to be alive, to wake to three healthy children in the morning demanded that I love these moments of frenzied activity, to be present with them all, to know that each of these moments are wonderful, are a precious privilege.

Privileges

As I was rocking and nursing Rowan to sleep on Sunday night, I was trying to savor the moment and not fret over returning to work the next day. I have been focusing on my word, presence, and trying to keep myself grounded in the moment. I've posted about rocking before, and there is simply something almost healing about it. Everything else falls away, and it is just the two of us, our breath aligned, her sleeping body heavy on my chest.

It was in this quiet the other night, in my earnest attempt to remain present, that I reflected on the weekend. It was full and busy, but I realized that in that fullness, was happiness and joy. My first instinct is to stay home, to keep things quiet, in an attempt to stall time, but this weekend there were times that we had to be out and then times that we chose to be out. Because I've been working on presence, I was able to find the joy in each experience, rather than feeling stressed because how much time they were taking.

As I reflected on the weekend, I had a very clear and humbling sense of the privilege I've been given to be a mother to wonderful children and a wife to an amazing husband. My life is so rich because of what they add to it, and I know my focus on presence has allowed me to be more available to enjoying every second.

Momfulness

You have to find a mother inside yourself,

We all do. Even if we already have a mother,

we still have to find this part of ourselves inside.

Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

A few years ago, when I was in the thick of single motherhood, I found a wonderful book-- Momfulness- Mothering with Compassion, Wisdom, and Grace by Denise Roy. What I loved about this book when I first devoured it was its focus on forgiveness and acceptance for mothering right where you are and the encouragement to suspend judgment of yourself as a mother. Finding compassion, wisdom, and grace in the midst of the craziness of parenthood is not an easy task. She offers a practical spiritual practice that can easily fit within any religious practice. I pulled this book out today, so I can revisit it as I work to regain balance. Organizing the physical space in which we live is only part of a very important process I know is necessary for our family to function smoothly. I know that my job as a mother is to keep compassion, wisdom, and grace as the driving forces in my interactions with everyone in our house. I've posted in the past that since Rowan's arrival, balance has been quite elusive, and I know that creates situations where Momfulness is key.

Throughout my pregnancy with Rowan, Hubs and I frequently talked about the changes that bringing a baby into our lives would create. The other kids had become quite self-sufficient, and we knew that the adjustment would come with growing pains. Despite having that awareness, I was not prepared for just how hard it would be. I had grown quite accustomed to life with my boy-os and having time to do fun things with them, to take them places, to just spend one-on-one time with them. All of that went out of the window with Rowan's arrival. She is a true high needs baby, and an HNB (as we affectionately call her) in the family precludes many activities. Even walking to the crosswalk to walk home with the boys when she was a newborn was a monumental task! I feel like I've lost so much time with my boys, and luckily they are awesome kids. They haven't been jealous of her, and they have been so very flexible with the adjustments we've had to make.

Though Rowan is still very much an HNB, at nine months, she is finally starting to settle into life outside the womb. As long as I'm within a few feet of her, she will happily play. And probably the biggest accomplishment is she is finally napping consistently and for more than 20 minutes at a time. This major milestone is wonderful because I am focusing on finding balance in the time I spend with them. It is easy to judge myself for feeling like I have faltered in my parenting of them. This is coming on the heels of both of them being very attached to their dad, and sometimes I can't help but take it personally. In rereading the first chapter today, I realize that I have to be gentle with myself and acknowledge that I have done my best. But I also come away with the awareness that I can focus on finding compassion, wisdom, and grace in all of my experiences with them.

During Rowan's naptime today and yesterday, the boy-os and I played with one of their Christmas presents. We mixed plaster, filled molds, and painted the dinosaurs.

They are so gratifying and easy to please. And pretty cute, too!

My favorite quote from today's chapter:

In practicing Momfulness, we cultivate compassion, not only for others but also for ourselves. We increase our ability to see our own suffering-- how tired we are, how hard we are working, how much we don't know. We develop the capacity to forgive ourselves, and to give ourselves some of what we need. Our hearts open, and we make friends with even the most difficult experiences of our lives.

This is such a very powerful passage and several parts almost move me to tears. I am making a promise to myself to focus on these three things.

Forgiveness: How great would it be if, as mothers (or simply people) we could forgive ourselves?

How much we don't know: Even as a third-time mom, it is hard to admit that I don't know all of the right answers.

What we (I as a mom) need: I need to exist as my own person, too, not just as "Mom." In order to be the best mom I can be, I must take care of myself. I'm working on this one, too, in my focus on regaining balance.

I'm excited about this journey!

That's all for today!

Catching Up

Overwhelmed.  That's really a very mild description of how I feel most of the time. Close to drowning? That is probably a bit more accurate.  Having been back to work for over four months, I was hoping that I would feel more together, more composed, more organized.  Yet all of that has proven to be so elusive.  Every day feels like a race and before the race is even over, I'm having to prep for the next day's leg.  It's exhausting on its own.  Add in Rowan, who still doesn't sleep for more than two or three hours at a time, and I'm on the edge of sanity most days. 

In the early days with Brown Baby, I posted about identity.  Towards the end of those idyllic days at home with her, I had started to find myself again, etched out in a faint pencil drawing, but it was there.  Quite visible.  Going back to work has changed that picture, erased some lines here and there, and I'm struggling to find balance and endurance.

Which is exactly why it is now the end of December, I started this post in October, and the last post I published was in June.  It frustrates me that I can't be consistent with my blog or with anything right now, so I've taken this valuable Christmas break to regroup and catch up.

What I've learned about myself is that I definitely feel better when things are organized. The problem is that it has been really hard to get organized when adding Rowan to the mix of the morning and evening rush. So I started organizing our home office and taking over the desk to make my own command center. My Mac has found a new home, and that definitely makes me happy!  It is still a work in progress, but it includes a family binder where I've created sections for anything we would need during the course of a week.  One of the biggest changes we've made recently is deciding a month or so ago to create and stick to a weekly meal plan. What a huge difference that makes in the evening to already know what dinner will be. It is simple things like this that I know are important to our family running more smoothly.

The boy-os and I talked about the new year today, and they did some reflecting on their past year and even thought a little about the year ahead using this great printable I found online. I really miss having the energy and time to focus on things like this with them. I really want to find a better way to balance my time, and we have been blessed with what we affectionately call our HNB (high needs baby). Rowan demands so much from us all of the time, and while I don't typically make resolutions, I will be focusing on finding ways to better balance all of the demands a mom finds placed upon her. The boys were very sincere about their reflections. And really cute, too! It warmed my heart to see that Pacey said the hardest lesson he learned was never to steal. (Another post for another day!)

On the HNB front, she got her first taste of a Christmas cookie today. To say that I am in love with this girl is an understatement. Despite her being the most demanding of the three babies I've had, we are so very blessed to have her in our lives. She is a continual source of joy and a constant reminder that life is good. How could it not be with a face like this?

Dear Baby...

Dear baby girl, Amazing that even though I’ve never met you, I don’t know your personality, and I don’t know what you look like, I already love you with the depth, heart, and soul that only a mother knows.

Me, in a six-word nutshell

Hanging out with Making Things Up and Six Word Fridays!

Me? Well, I'm just a girl.
A mom, a wife, a friend.
Usually waiting for life to begin.
Trying to remember to jump in.
Embrace, register the moment and live.