I had a chat with myself the other day--sort of.
It began as a thought which lead to a full blown conversation---never mind the inanimate Little People who provided comfort as a lifeless audience--but I had an eerie sense they were actually listening.
I asked the Fireman holding the gray kitty, "When the hell did Beth time vanish?"
(Blank stare was returned)
"Did it vanish the moment I popped James out of me?"
or
"Did it all happen gradually; as if I was unaware of what life would be like once I had children or did I have a clear perspective back then?"
(Carnival ticket girl gazes back at me)
I felt as though I understood what motherhood would be like---what it entailed---what it took to be a sufficient, bottle-juggling, referee type personality who could raise two children, keep the dog bowl full, invent new recipes and keep things hot with the husband all while.................
talking to the LITTLE PEOPLE?!?!
"What the hell is wrong with me?!?!"
I had finally made it to the jungle animals by this time and I couldn't help but notice why they didn't provide a bird for my boys to play with in their zoo; yet they provided a man with a silver bucket and dead fish!!
Snap out of it.
Snap out of it.
Was I ready to be a mom? Was I completely okay with never ever having a day that didn't involve cleaning a rancid diaper or making sure James doesn't suffocate Henry with a mound of pillows? Was I ready to let go of who I was then and what I was about to become?
(The assembly of Little People had vanished and I was left with myself and sevens load of laundry)
The answer is yes. Yes to it all. Even on my worst days---I was ready and willing to give up the life I had known for so long----the selfish one. Rightfully so, we are all deserving of a life that provides a bit of selfishness---to travel, to drink wine out of a box, to stay up until 3am talking about a terrible break-up and sleep in on the weekends without a screaming child begging for your arms.
I have doubted so much for so long. I question if I make the right decisions for my kids ever single second of every single day. I cross-check things at least four times and I don't necessarily find space for myself during the chaos. (a good chaos)
Once my "friends" were absent across my sweet-potato stained carpet, I understood I didn't necessarily vanish, I just changed. While the change has been amazing, I decided I need to make a greater effort in taking time for myself. Whether someone is a mom or not, we can easily allow things, jobs, or kids to blind us from what we first and foremost need to take care of---ourselves. If we don't keep a solid "tab" on what we know, believe and want for our own being, then we can't make much progress with those we love----at least that's what I gathered after my therapy session with the Little People.
Love
The Seidl Sprouts
It began as a thought which lead to a full blown conversation---never mind the inanimate Little People who provided comfort as a lifeless audience--but I had an eerie sense they were actually listening.
I asked the Fireman holding the gray kitty, "When the hell did Beth time vanish?"
(Blank stare was returned)
"Did it vanish the moment I popped James out of me?"
or
"Did it all happen gradually; as if I was unaware of what life would be like once I had children or did I have a clear perspective back then?"
(Carnival ticket girl gazes back at me)
I felt as though I understood what motherhood would be like---what it entailed---what it took to be a sufficient, bottle-juggling, referee type personality who could raise two children, keep the dog bowl full, invent new recipes and keep things hot with the husband all while.................
talking to the LITTLE PEOPLE?!?!
"What the hell is wrong with me?!?!"
I had finally made it to the jungle animals by this time and I couldn't help but notice why they didn't provide a bird for my boys to play with in their zoo; yet they provided a man with a silver bucket and dead fish!!
Snap out of it.
Snap out of it.
Was I ready to be a mom? Was I completely okay with never ever having a day that didn't involve cleaning a rancid diaper or making sure James doesn't suffocate Henry with a mound of pillows? Was I ready to let go of who I was then and what I was about to become?
(The assembly of Little People had vanished and I was left with myself and sevens load of laundry)
The answer is yes. Yes to it all. Even on my worst days---I was ready and willing to give up the life I had known for so long----the selfish one. Rightfully so, we are all deserving of a life that provides a bit of selfishness---to travel, to drink wine out of a box, to stay up until 3am talking about a terrible break-up and sleep in on the weekends without a screaming child begging for your arms.
I have doubted so much for so long. I question if I make the right decisions for my kids ever single second of every single day. I cross-check things at least four times and I don't necessarily find space for myself during the chaos. (a good chaos)
Once my "friends" were absent across my sweet-potato stained carpet, I understood I didn't necessarily vanish, I just changed. While the change has been amazing, I decided I need to make a greater effort in taking time for myself. Whether someone is a mom or not, we can easily allow things, jobs, or kids to blind us from what we first and foremost need to take care of---ourselves. If we don't keep a solid "tab" on what we know, believe and want for our own being, then we can't make much progress with those we love----at least that's what I gathered after my therapy session with the Little People.
Love
The Seidl Sprouts