Wow. 2 years. A lot or really not that much at all has happened depending on how I look at it. We had a baby. He’s now an opinionated, funny, sweet, stubborn toddler. Lot’s of people have babies; they’re no big deal and the biggest deal of all. He shook my world in a way that I couldn’t prepare for, in a way I hope another baby will not. In an instant “mama” became a part of my identity. Such an all-consuming, exhausting, heartbreaking, beautiful part of my identity. My old self was sucker punched, winded, grasping at straws. Who-ever I had become, it was not someone who felt she had enough time or energy for old hobbies or self-care.
Most days I feel pulled in too many directions, but I try to push through. This isn’t just me, it’s universal motherhood. Work, home, baby, partner, self. There is no balance. Every day is a mental analysis of priorities and knowing when to gracefully and compassionately say I’ve done enough, it’s good enough, time to take care of me.
My baby dropped his middle-of-the-night nursing at 19 months. We had tried to convince him to drop it since he was 9 months, but he’s stubborn…like his mama. He moved on when he was ready. With every extra hour of continuous sleep that I bank, a little bit more of me emerges from the haze of all-consuming motherhood. I’m baking more, I’m quilting more, I’m running more, I’m enjoying it all more. I’m thinking “that wasn’t so bad, let’s have another!” followed by “OMG, calm down and give yourself a moment to breath!”
For two years, this blog has been at the back of my mind. It’s been a “should” lurking guiltily at the end of my mental to-do list. My therapist thinks I have too many “shoulds”, but I have a hard time erasing it from the vocabulary that describes how I approach my life. So I will practice removing this blog from my “should” list. I may post often or only rarely, I may post words or just a picture, it will probably be quilting and sewing as much as baking, and it will likely be inspirational more than original. Most importantly, I need a space to keep the things that feed my soul and foster my love for this life that I can come back to when I forget. Remembering takes practice. This is my practice.