Spider Boy and Bean Revisited

Bean Vine

I took a hiatus from blogging this past year for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was postpartum depression, but perhaps the greatest reason has to do with the constant learning curve of being a Stay-At-Home-Mom. New to this job last May, I had this idea in the back of my head that I would master it like I had mastered all of the for-pay jobs I’d held over the years. Those of you who have been parents a lot longer than I have are probably laughing now. Yes, I really was that naive. Even if my boys weren’t the spirited bundles of energy they are, all children are constantly changing in those early years of life, constantly reinventing themselves and discovering the people they will ultimately become. That means as parents we need to be constantly shifting our expectations and perspective, all while creating a sense of consistency that will provide our children the necessary support they require to thrive through this process. When you’re doing this 24/7, well, let’s just say that the only thing you can “master” is surrendering any idea that you’re in control of anything, or that any one day will bear any resemblance to another.

As I was contemplating a return to blogging, I thought about how the names Spider Boy (now 3.5) and Bean (now 20 months) no longer seem to apply. But once again, I realized it was because I was comparing their current iterations to who they were when those names came in to being. After shifting my perspective, I discovered that they’re still a great fit, even if it’s for dramatically different reasons. Spider Boy has turned into a grand storyteller, spinning intricate webs of fantasy in which he attempts to entrap us all. Bean has turned into a climbing vine, always in search of the highest point in any room, the highest available shelf, the highest slide on the playground, reaching for the sun. The one thing that remains the same in all of this is that these boys are my greatest teachers, my greatest inspiration, my greatest gifts. I am truly blessed. Namaste.

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit

Surrender

Brazil - cropped

This is not the post I expected to be my first of 2012. As 2011 came to a close, I was gathering my thoughts and taking notes around setting my intention for the year. I’m not big on “resolutions” — much like “diets,” they seem to be things that you take on temporarily, and I am much more about lasting change. But there are a variety of occasions that naturally lend themselves towards a fresh start, and the new year is certainly one of them. 2012 is a year of power, and I envisioned kicking it off with some visioning and goal setting, perhaps a burning bowl ritual or a cleanse, really starting the year off on the right foot.

Best laid plans. This year is definitely confirming my belief that it is a year of power, but not in the grounded and flowing way I was expecting. It has been much more like wading out into the ocean and getting knocked down by a wave, standing back up again just to be knocked flat by another wave. And another. And another. And another. There was a Friday night mid-January when I was standing in my kitchen sobbing hysterically, frantic with how overwhelmed I was, with how much my life appeared to be spiraling out of control. Something broke in me that night, something that made me realize that no, truly, I am not going to get it all done. In fact, I’m not going to come even close to getting it all done. And some days that will well and truly suck. But most of the time it will genuinely be okay. It was a moment of surrender, and man, did it ever feel good.

Surrender can be a frightening concept. It leaves us feeling so vulnerable, so raw, so exposed, so powerless. But there is incredible power in surrender, in letting go, in getting out of the way. I find myself often believing the fallacy that I am somehow in control, which when you consider that I live with a toddler, a baby, and a husband is rather humorous. But when I let go, I allow myself to be carried along by the flow. And perhaps more importantly, I allow myself to step more fully into the moment and savor what it is that life is offering up for me right now.

Three stomach flus, one flu flu, and countless other ailments and challenges later, I look back over the last two months and recognize that there was a shift that needed to take place for me. A shift away from “holding it all together” to “going with the flow.” A shift from needing to get it all done to handling whatever is right in front of me. A shift from needing to be anything approaching perfect to just showing up as the best me I can muster in the moment. And some days it works better than others — it is definitely a work in progress, as with everything else in my life. But somewhere in the midst of this chaos, I have found some peace.  I am truly grateful for this path that I am walking through this life. It isn’t always easy, but it always brings me the gifts that I need. I have never been more clear about what my priorities are, about what is truly important, about what I have to be grateful for, about how blessed I am. So thank you 2012 for your ocean of power. I surrender. Namaste.

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit

Working mama

Kaitlyn using the laptop - original

The phrase “working mother” is redundant.
~ Jane Sellman

I’ve been back to work officially one month today. I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a rough month. There’s always so much to do and rarely enough hours in the day to scratch the surface, let alone feel like I’m accomplishing anything or getting to spend enough quality time with the boys. But it’s a work in progress, with each new day an opportunity for me to cull out what isn’t working and try something new that might.

What’s working includes focusing on the positives. The first time I went out to lunch with a few coworkers, I was holding a somewhat messy sandwich and I just took a moment to savor being able to eat slow(ish), with both hands. As busy as work can get, if I need to pay a bill, it only takes a minute to write out the check and walk it over to the mail drop — a task (or series of tasks, really — where are those stamps again?) that could have taken most of a morning when I was at home. The regularity of the routine has Spider Boy back to enjoying daycare — when I dropped the boys off yesterday morning he was happily anticipating getting to play with his friends all day — and he is relishing getting to spend more one-on-one time with Grandma again. And Bean has had a developmental boom that I know is due in part to interaction with children at a variety of developmental levels.

What’s working also includes a combination of shifting my perspective and truly staying present to the moment. Most Sundays, I take the boys grocery shopping — what felt like a chore when I was on leave now feels like a fun way for us to spend time together. Spider Boy and I talk and hug our way through the store, and I get to experience how he interacts with the other customers (strangers are most certainly just friends he hasn’t met yet). My husband and I have found new ways to connect with each other, whether it’s talking (hands-free!) on our morning commutes or doing our chores in the same room during naps. Sleep deprivation may leave me fuzzy, but that’s just an opportunity for me to let go of needing to be completely on top of everything, and having Bean wake up to nurse in the night feels like an opportunity for us to snuggle close.

And then there’s the work itself. Returning from maternity leave gives me the opportunity to ask how I want to spend my time. Sure, every job has a series of tasks that need to be accomplished in order to say you’re doing the job. But every job also has an opportunity for you to ask who am *I* in this job and how do I choose to show up? I choose to have my work be an extension of my Work, which means I choose to encourage people to live their lives more fully. When I was asked recently what people in my position do, the words I jotted down were: empowering, facilitating, mentoring, mediating, problem-solving. I would probably also add “healing” in the sense that I try to shine my light of positive opportunity into areas that might otherwise appear dark and see what shifts.

There is always room for improvement. I have my moments of feeling frazzled and emotional and exhausted and wondering how I’m going to get through the next five minutes let alone the rest of the week. But I am taking it one day at a time, taking every day as a practice, taking every moment as a new opportunity. And nothing, but nothing, beats the pure joy that runs through my being when Spider Boy comes running in at the end of the day yelling “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” as he throws himself into my arms, and then watching little Bean’s face light up when he sees me. I am truly, madly, deeply blessed. Namaste.

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit

Love is all you need

Angel

When I woke up this morning, there was nothing to suggest that this day would offer up a zen parenting moment. Life since the baby was born has involved a lot of sharp contrasts, extreme emotions playing out across each family member in a variety of ways. Our two-year-old son has been the hardest hit, especially since we had to move a week after his baby brother was born. We have spent the 3+  months since then observing him very closely, following his lead wherever possible in an attempt to return a sense of stability and security to his world.

The word I would have used to categorize today was “overly.” He was overly tired, overly sensitive, overly frustrated. Despite this, we managed to eke out a few enjoyable moments during our Halloween festivities this morning, then brought him home for an early nap. Unfortunately, that nap got started in the car, often the kiss of death for the rest of the day. As usual, this gave him the false sense of a second wind, and just intensified the “overly” he had already been feeling. It took several hours, but he finally succumbed to a deep, late-afternoon nap.

When he woke up a couple of hours later, he was disoriented and out of sorts. I went in to him and just rubbed his back. He settled almost immediately and we stayed like that for a minute or two. He’s never been a particularly cuddly baby, so at one point I straightened and removed my hand. He started crying and got up on his knees, grabbing my hand and pulling it back into the crib. I got back to rubbing his back and just breathing with him. I asked him if he wanted to cuddle in my bed, a new favorite pastime of his that often doesn’t include much recognizable “cuddling.” He grabbed his hippo lovey and let me carry him into the master bedroom.

I was already feeling pretty blessed to have had such an intimate moment with him, and was expecting this to shift into a more familiar silly and riled up moment. But his energy was still really quiet and subdued, so I wasn’t entirely surprised when he wanted to lay down on me as his pillow. After a few attempts, we found a position that worked well for both of us — a half sitting hug of sorts — and settled into it. That is when the magic happened.

Simply put, I held him. My arms were around him, hugging him, stroking his hair, expressing my love wordlessly. My mind was fully and completely focused on him in this moment. While I did send him Reiki, mostly out of habit, there was much more of a sense of “being” rather than “doing” to this experience. There were no expectations, no wandering off into analyzing what this all meant, no trying to figure out what he needed and whether or not I was meeting that need. It felt like I was listening to him on another plane of existence, listening to his need with an inner ear and answering it with my energetic love. We just breathed in and out and hugged each other, occasionally shifting our weight to get more comfortable, but mostly just staying completely still.

We stayed there for what felt like an hour but was probably less than ten minutes. His dad came in with his brother and they curled up on the bed with us, but it was like we were in our own bubble. And at the end of that time, whenever he had finished refueling, filling himself up with the love being offered him, he pushed off of me and said, “Mommy, let’s go play.” And then he slipped off the bed and ran into the living room.

Young children are so pure, so uncluttered, so simple. I don’t want to confuse “simple” with “easy” or even “basic.” But generally, they wear their needs on their sleeves, and if you’re paying attention and have the right vocabulary and your own batteries are charged up, those needs can be relatively easily met. But those three things — paying attention, having the right vocabulary, and making sure your own batteries are charged — are the most often missed. The complexity we experience as parents so often lies in our own lives, our own experiences, and how we learn to balance our needs with those of our children such that we can both grow and thrive in that experience of love.

Before I started down this path of motherhood, I feared that becoming a parent would mark an end to my spiritual journey. I have learned so much in the last 2+ years, so much that has informed the way I walk this earth, and on days like today, I recognize that it was not only a beginning, but perhaps the only way for me to truly experience the divine. Today I was blessed to experience true grace. As my son ran off down the hall, I was filled with both gratitude and the desire to share my spiritual journey once again, this time from the perspective of mother. Thank you for joining me on this blessed journey!

Originally published on Pachamama Spirit