It's been a long time since my last post. Thing's haven't been busy, per se, but it feels like there has just been no time to write. I could say it was just the lack of time, but that wouldn't be the whole truth. I simply haven't felt the motivation, inclination, or inspiration to share what has been the goings on around here. The last few weeks have been filled with very high highs in family life as well as some fairly low lows (in my personal opinion) in my career as a mother.
A while ago a mommy friend of mine mentioned something about how the first two to three years of a child's life lay the foundation for the way they will interact with the world for the rest of their life. They are incredibly formative years. Now, this is something I have heard before, and what's to stop the next two to three or thirty years from forming the child into a person, but it struck me in a different way this time. No longer was this idea theoretical, something to read about, study, ponder, nod knowingly in self-awareness of my self-education and think that at some point in the future that information would silently seep its way into my daily mothering--that this information in my head would make me a good or better mother. No, when I heard this tidbit it hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly my oldest is two and my youngest will be one in a couple of months. The clock is ticking. What kind of foundation am I laying as mother? Spiritually? Socially? Practically? Emotionally? I heard this and it was as if the teacher announced the exam was actually going to be today instead and I hadn't done enough studying.
The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I became. Until every little thing my child did or said became my fault. And every way I reacted to the children became a failure to do what was best, in my head, and in more cases than I wish to admit, in practice.
I'm not the kind of person who plans well. Oh I plan, just not well. I plan to plan. I love lists. But then I can't get down to the nitty gritty because, well, I don't make decisions easily. So once I find a system or schedule that works, I stick to it tooth and nail. Thing is, children aren't that consistent. And they aren't objects, they're people who have changing needs, changing wants, wants to be changed whether or not it wakes the other child up in the process.
This drive to stick to my lists, to try to get my things accomplished each and every day, had driven me to a low point. Feelings of failure, frustration, exasperation with the terrible twos, exhaustion from trying to pull double weight around the home, a little loneliness from the project keeping John away, and the subconscious stress of planning and packing for a couple of weeks away put me in time out this afternoon. I was at a bottom, rock or not, it was some form of a floor. I lost sight of the significant things, and could only see the floor. And how dirty it was. And how much I wanted to clean it, but couldn't.
Then my daughter came in and gave me a hug. And a kiss. And a gentle pat. And said, "Blessed Mother and baby Jesus are right there!" pointing to the picture on the wall of our bedroom. She went about playing with her brother, and I started to talk to Them about all this. And I think I started to let go a little.
I think a lot about letting go. I feel the whole water off a duck's back picture is flawed. I think in order to really let some things go, you have to internalize them first. Accept the thing you have to let go of, and then let go of it. And as I let out all my frustrations and spoke them out loud to the best mother the world has ever seen, and to her God-son, I think I really began to let go of some of these things. It became clear once again that my children are my work, my children and my family. My home is the place my family dwells, but it is material, secondary to the needs of my family. All the other things going on are secondary.
I felt I needed to start tomorrow making sure that my children were fed emotionally and spiritually, not just bodily. They are more important than keeping the house clean or checking off the lists I've arbitrarily made once they're in bed. Someone will probably not nap. Someone else will definitely have a runny nose and stuffy attitude. But that will be my work. The things I can't predict or plan or make lists and schedules about. They are my work. They are my joy.
