Emptiness

Throughout the day, I have great ideas for blog posts: a story from NPR might inspire a mental rant that would be provocative to share, a personal reflection could bring dynamic comment conversation, an article might spark new insights for all of us (and possibly more articles…).

But then I do all the things (care for Abraham, care for everyone else, care for the house, care for any work on my plate) and then…my brain is empty. I can’t remember what I wanted to write about. It’s gone.

Isn’t this why I practice yoga? Yogascittavritti nirodhah. Yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind. Yoga is when the thoughts stop. And here I am, thoughts stopped.

But I don’t think that is what they really meant.

How is it that I could once wake up early, practice yoga, work all day teaching and creating theatre, go home for big conversations with roommates or yoga classes or craft projects, read a novel for fun, and then sleep peacefully? Now, I don’t do half of that in a day, but I struggle to remember to make a phone call to get my oil changed or to pick up a book at the end of the day.

I know, I know…I have an infant, don’t be so hard on myself. I’m not being hard on myself. I want to read, craft, create art, and practice yoga. And that is just solo projects. I want to spend time with my husband, talk to my far away friends (and close by friends!) and family.

But at the end of the day, I plop down at the kitchen table and mull over…facebook. Over pinterest. Over things don’t deepen my days. No offense to facebook.

But my brain is empty.  I don’t have the motivation to close Whitey (yes, my computer is named Whitey. He’s white. What would you name him?) and pick up my book/craft project/script. By 9 or 10pm, I’m not able to start a meaningful yoga practice.

So…what do you do? How do you, friends and readers, motivate yourself to do the things you love? That just sounds ridiculous – if I love them, why is it effort?

And please don’t tell me not to worry about it right now. I am not worrying, but I want to be a great mom for Abraham, a great wife for David, a great step-mom for Zoe and Nathan and I can’t if I’m not feeling like myself. You know?

Am I just writing in circles?

Best Supporting Actor

I am a sensitive person, perhaps oversensitive. I get upset for my family members when they are mistreated. I take it personally. It burns me up, consuming my mind, as I try to understand the logic or rationale behind someone else’s actions.

The other night, as I was angrily nursing Abraham to sleep (angry at a situation, not my precious nursling), I had a possibly life changing realization. Something I have known but finally sunk in.

It isn’t about me.

Do you ever watch a movie or read a book and feel like you are the main character? This happens to me a lot, I feel like I take on the emotional life of the main character. (Side note: I once took an empathy test, an online test to see if you have Asperger’s syndrome (I don’t) and I scored way above normal on empathy.) I think this is happening to me in real life too. I’m taking on someone else’s anger. I’m letting myself be hurt by actions that were not meant for me.

I have become the supporting actor in my own movie. My life isn’t about me.

That sounds strange to say, maybe even depressing, but after a moment, I found it to be freeing. My job here, in the movie now, is to support, is to let someone else’s story shine.

I had my chance (David said, when I had accomplished my career goal of acting professionally and burned out at 28, that I hit my mid-life crisis.) – I have had my dream job, I have travelled to amazing places and had great adventures, I have pursued my passions, I am experiencing true love.

As a mother to an infant, it is hard impossible to keep the starring role. A friend told me, after I quit my job (one of them…) after I realized I couldn’t keep up with it and a baby, that “Women could have it all, just not at the same time.” Maybe that isn’t true for everyone, but it is for me. I thought I could do all things, be all things, all at the same time. But I can’t. And it is ok. It is even really good for me to learn that lesson. Abraham needs me now in a way he never will again. I want to enjoy it, not rush through it.

As a step-mother, I definitely don’t have the starring role. Step-parenting is a supporting position. Again, it is ok. The kids need supportive adults in their lives. I am not their mom, but I am one of their parents, and I try to be present for them without being pushy. I’m waiting stage left in case they need me.

As a stay-at-home wife, I’m a supporting actor too. I’m obviously contributing to the family, taking care of keeping the house clean, full of food (sometimes even cooked food!), comfortable, and alive. Not literally, but you know…functioning for all of us. David comes home from work and talks to me about interesting physics he figured out (and that I don’t really understand), and I tell him how much dog hair I vacuumed up and the cute thing Abraham did that day. Not exactly world changing stuff from me, but if I weren’t doing it, our family’s world would be very different.

I’ve been reflecting on my personality lately, and I don’t even know if I am main character material. I am shy. I don’t like talking to people I don’t know. I don’t really like talking on the phone to anyone (except my family). I have passion, but not ambition. I am a quiet leader, preferring to lead by example than to rally the masses. This is not necessarily the make up of a main character.

I keep telling myself that in 5 years, Abraham will go to school and I can be a person again. I can begin to take my time rather than stealing it. I can really practice yoga again, make theatre, engage in my community. Until then, I’ll be here when you need me.

Woman

My good friend, the Incredible Exploding Head, just wrote a great piece about being a Woman. Mostly having to do with being a Mother vs. Not. She got me thinking about my own mother-ness.

I had a rough day. I’ve had a rough series of days. I shouldn’t: I have a sweet, funny baby who is very easy going, a devoted and kind husband, a comfortable home, some interesting work. Even friends. In town. Nearby!

But I have very little time that is my own. Which I expected when I decided to have a baby. But I didn’t realize how intense it would be to be needed all the time.

I think of myself as an introvert and an extrovert. I usually feel shy, not quite knowing what to say, but at the same time, wanting to be with people. I used to (wait, I still do) work/write at a cafe, not in my home office (what home office – ha!). I like taking classes. I like sitting in audiences. I don’t really like talking in front of people (acting is different…).

The introvert part of me needs alone time to reboot. A 7 minute shower every morning isn’t enough.

Most people don’t talk about this part of being a mother. The part where you stop being you.

I keep thinking to myself, when Abraham goes to school, I will practice yoga for real. I will start a theatre company. I will read books quickly. I will be me again.

This is a terrible approach. I am me. I am the same person who wanted to have a baby in the first place. If I put myself on the shelf (sorry for that rhyme), how can I be a good mother, dare I say my ideal mother, for Abraham? How can I be a good wife, step mother, friend, anything? Much less artist, teacher, leader…

I feel terrible every time I leave Abraham with a babysitter or even David, because I love leaving. I love going to the coffee shop with my laptop and writing. I love going to the yoga studio and teaching. I love meeting my friend for lunch and brainstorming theatre ideas for the company we want to get off the ground.

Which is not to say that I don’t love being with him. I do. I do so much. I love watching him discover the world. I love that when he cries a little, it shocks me because I think of him as a person not really a baby. I love watching him eat, sleep, poop, laugh, read…everything. But I love it most when I feel most like myself. Which is when I spend some time taking care of my, not him, not David, not anyone else.

I wish I could do both and not feel bad about either.

So, like the Head, who got my brain going in the first place (Head, you are so good at that. I miss you!),  I want to make the next part of my like pretty fucking cool. In Reading, PA.

I’ve got to figure out how to start.

Midnight

I can’t sleep because this is running though my head.

Thought it should run through your head too.

Alone

No one is touching me right now. It is simultaneously wonderful and sad. I miss my guys.

Abraham is sleeping a mere foot away from me. I’m experimenting to see if he will sleep without nursing all night long. So far, so good.

David is sleeping in Philadelphia tonight. So much work to do. I’m so grateful for his effort, because it means I get to be home with Abraham. But I miss him and I wish our home and his office weren’t so far from one another.

I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m not good with free time. I never have been, but now I really suck because I never have any. It is too late to practice yoga, so I suppose I will just rest and breathe. Perhaps read a few longer articles that I can’t concentrate on when Abraham is awake.

Any suggestions?

Precious

This baby is precious. He is cute and cuddly, sweet and wise. Every moment is incredibly challenging and such a gift.

Today has been my first day home alone with Abraham. David is at work, the big kids are at school and with their mom, the parents have all gone home.

We took a walk, he slept while I ate lunch, I gave him a bath, a friend came by for a bit. And he nursed, a lot.

Tomorrow will be roughly the same. And so on. It is precious to be able to take this time with him.

I have also had time to think and remember. What my life was like before: last month, last year, 5 years ago. So much has changed, so much is so good.

In an effort to break the silence, I decided to tell Abraham about his family while he nurses – I started today with Grandpa, who he is named for. I think he was listening.

We’ll see what tomorrow brings, what adventures and stories.

BFF

I just read an article that, with some alterations of name and location, I feel like I could have written.

It is called MWF seeks BFF. Girl moves to a new city for Boy. They Get Married. She feels like she has no friends there.

Sigh.

I so not mean this as offense to any people in Reading/Berks County who are my friends. I do have friends here. But not Friends. Not yet.

Without school or a full-time job, I’m not spending huge amounts of time with anyone. I don’t have a yoga community or a Jewish community here (yet, I’m working on it). Besides David, who I don’t count as a friend because he is the ultimate friend, my closest friend is around 60 and a man. And I love them both (in different ways, obviously) but still.

I need some ladies.

UPDATE: David said this post will offend my lower-case friends. That isn’t what I mean at all. I hope all of my friends become Friends. We just aren’t there yet. It takes time. And I’m shy.

Bullying

Bullying has been in the news a lot lately, and anti-bullying programs have been in the schools at least since I was in Elementary School. But none of it seems to help. Bullying is everywhere.

I feel that I am the target of a bully right now, and though I am not this person’s main focus, I am getting plenty of attack. And all the methods for dealing with people like this that they teach you in school don’t really make a bit of difference.

And while the idea behind the Fighting Bullies with Babies program may be great, it is quite terrifying to me. Basically, parents take their babies to programs with at-risk youth and the baby helps build empathy in these kids. Eventually, when the kids grow up and become parents, they have the empathy to be engaged parents, breaking cycles of abuse and neglect. Honorable idea, but anyone who has been labeled a bully isn’t coming near my child, or me for that matter. If I can help it.

On many parenting subjects, I try not to be too rigid. But this is not one of those subjects.

Although I feel a little bit (ok, a lot) nerdy referencing Glee, I think Kurt, the openly gay teenager on the show, speaks truth when he says that the best way to fight bullying is for all of us to stand up to it. This character is able to stand up for himself like no teenager, or even adult, I’ve seen. And still he must leave his school and friends to get away from the threats and violence.

I hate to be so negative, but I think that is reality. No one stands up, the victim must remove him/herself from the situation. In a case like school, it is sometimes easier than in a work or life situation. Transfer. But the bully doesn’t go away, and neither does the fear or the apathy.

How are we supposed to deal with bullies in real life?

Quiet Morning

I’m in favor of routines vs schedules. Schedules are too difficult to keep when other people are involved and routines provide both structure and freedom, which I strongly believe go hand in hand.

This morning, I decided to sleep in all the way until 7:15. I showered and got the kids ready for school and David ready for work. And they all helped each other which is always nice.

Then at 8:25 they all left and I began my morning routine of pranayama, yoga, preparing for the day, catching up on email/work. If I had had a schedule, my whole day would be ruined because I couldn’t have kept up. Instead, with my routine, I was able to help the fam when they needed it and have me time when they left for their days.

How all of this will change when Raspberry is born, I can’t even imagine. I bet I’ll still be able to find 30 minutes to do pranayama every day. Or at least, nap.

Day after Day after…

I was laughing and crying when I read what I have to look forward to…