Last year around this time I wrote nine months old, heart on my sleeve. What is it about this time of year that makes me have so many feels?
We're just three months away from having a two year old. He is more fun to be with every day; so inquisitive, so daring, so happy in his little world, so excited about the bigger world around him. Watching him learn is mind-blowing, I love seeing the connections he makes between things. I love seeing him express his emotions. I love experiencing the way he loves. The other morning he rolled over when he first woke up and nursed a bit. His eyes met mine and he gave me a milky smile and a little wave. That's some heart-melting stuff right there, the best way to wake up. I truly love him more and more each day.
And in this deep love, in this now 21-month journey in motherhood, I have started to notice an occasional change in myself. I've caught glimpses of someone that I haven't been in tune with in ... twenty-one months. I noticed the other day that I felt a different kind of alive than I've felt in a while. It was when I was without Harrison, which isn't a scenario that happens often. It was slightly confusing, actually. I felt like the person I was before Harrison was in my life, I felt like I was on the outside of motherhood while being engrossed in it all the same. It was a good kind of alive, but it was one that I didn't actually miss very much, and it left me curios.
I felt like my "old self" in those moments and began to question what that really meant. Did it really take me twenty-one months to get back to being a person that I didn't even know I lost? When our family grows again, will it take me another twenty-one months to get back to where I am now?
I brought this scenario and the questions up to a trusted friend and super mama of four. And as always, she had some very insightful and wise offerings for me.
No, it's not going to take me twenty-one months again. Because really what I glimpsed was just that- a glimpse. It wasn't something that I lost, and it's not something that is actually attainable for the long-term. I'm not getting that "old self" back, because in the nine months that I grew Harrison and in these twenty-one months that I've cared for him on this side of the world, I've been growing myself as a mother. I can't feasibly feel the kind of alive that I felt in those moments on a daily basis, because I'm feeling a different kind of alive these days. I think that's why these glimpses felt so unique and confusing. They were nice, but they didn't equate to current real life.
Real life these days is waking up before Harrison so I can have everything together enough to get us to work on time. Real life these days is budgeting for a babysitter so Jeremy and I can go out once a week. Real life these days is patiently letting Harrison explore the sidewalks of Los Angeles and walking up and down the same concrete steps with him ten times in a row. Real life these days is finally implementing self-care- going for a run, reading a book, writing on the couch instead of while pushing a stroller. Real life these days is taking deep breaths when my patience is maxed out, and apologizing to my 21-month-old when a lack of patience brings a harsh tone of voice or picking him up too roughly. Real life these days is often missing out on seeing movies in theaters but an anticipation of curling up on the couch with Jeremy to eventually watch them in our living room. Real life these days is reading the same book out loud to Harrison over and over again. Real life these days is thinking on my feet to get a stubborn toddler to willingly do what I need. Real life these days is realizing there are less of those "needs" than I sometimes realize. Real life these days is being late to gatherings because said toddler all the sudden needs to use the bathroom as we are headed out the door, or he is still napping and there is no way we are sacrificing his sleep. Real life these days is playing violin, or piano, or guitar, and listening to him SING with me. Real life these days is sharing my kombucha. Real life these days is allll the dance parties. Real life these days is watching him do things he couldn't do two weeks previous. Real life these days is toddler giggles, toddler hugs, toddler love. Real life these days is full of So Much Love.
The thing about real life, the consistency of the ups and the downs and the juggling of caring for all the beings in our household including myself, is that it is quite wonderful. The struggles are real, and hard, and we push through them, and learn from them, and come out the other side better for them. The highs are beautiful, and carefree, and we live in them, and also learn from them, and also come out the other side better for them. These struggles and triumphs aren't glimpses that we lose as quickly as we see them, instead they are where we are right now, building on top of our past. There is nothing we have truly lost, there is just much we have gained that has taken precedence.
Motherhood has opened up my heart a thousand times over. Here's to the next twenty one months.
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