Today I had a daydream that I was one of those little flowers that you see creeping out to meet the light from in between huge slabs of concrete. I thought of the efforts I make on a daily basis to creep out of my life of being "just a mother." Can you believe that I used to say, "I'm just a stay at home mom"? I'm just raising two people in the world with ACTUAL integrity, honesty, health, awareness, and love for themselves and their planet. That's all. No biggie.
I don't need a prize for what I'm doing. I just need some time for myself in return. So, today I imagined myself as that little yellow flower, pushing forth from under the weight of the pavement only to emerge in a place where it doesn't really belong. Trying to keep momentum going in your personal/professional life while your two young children grow feels dissonant. I decided not to do it at all and be a stay at home mom but, as it turns out, every day I try to do something that helps me feel like ME again. Correction: every day, I try to do something that helps me sift through all the mother stuff and find who I am now. Luckily, a supportive partner equals time to read fascinating books, learn new things, take on new hobbies, develop hobbies I already love, and some time to myself every once in a while.
But like that little flower, I still feel the weight of the things around me. I know every day I do a big job. Some days I am great at it, other days I'm not at all. And the only thing I can hold on to is the most volatile element on earth: change. Which makes me feel kinda good in an odd way because I've come to learn that anything worthwhile in life is found inside a paradox. Within this paradox, I let go of more and more everyday and as I feel my babies growing out of my arms leaving them empty, more is given to me. More responsibility, more love, more heartbreak, more confusion, more everything. And more of nothing.
Maybe I'm just emotional because my little one #1 will be going to school very soon. And I know she is ready for it because a. she asks for school every day and b. I feel it intuitively. Those little wings my husband and I nurtured and knew would grow have begun to sprout and I feel the subtle ways which she doesn't need me anymore and the new ways in which she does. I haven't let myself cry about it until just now... so now I'm just some bumbling, sobbing mess of a mom trying to type through my tears. Trying to make some sense of myself and of motherhood and trying to stop everything long enough for me to get some ground under my feet and maybe a little bit of understanding.
Motherhood feels SO, SO enormous sometimes.