who am i, anyway?

I have never thought of myself as controlling. i am soft, easy-going, flexible...right? Hmmm...well, the other day a dear friend was told by another that she is too hard on herself and those around her.

All night and day these words repeated themselves in a whisper simmering deeper and deeper thru the layers of my psyche until i felt a release, an admittance.

thank you. this has been me. I feel there is a part of me that is so rigid. so stuck. so scared that i might lose my hold on myself, my children, my household, my health, my beliefs.....I dont think i have always been this way. i dont think it's my natural way but somewhere on my life's journey i stiffened up; traded my magic wand for a sharp-edged sword.

its subtle. meeting me and even being a close friend you might not see this, it may even surprise you that this rigidity is such a tethered core in my being holding me together. hmmmmm

going numb

My tendency is to go numb whenever there is alot going on emotionally for me. I go on auto pilot taking care of all my family duties blindly but my essence is stuck somewhere hovering inches above my body and i just do what i have to to get by day to day.

I do all that i can to keep myself from entering this hole of unknown gunk...the emotional laundry that has been piling up for weeks now...months probably. In my moments alone I eat, i clean, i watch movies, browse the internet, drown myself in worry and guilt for all the things i do wrong as a mother....really i stuff my head, my heart, my face with anything that can take away the blinding fact that there are tender spots inside me that need tending to.

Why am i so resistant to taking care of myself? yes, i give non-stop all day long to my children so the moment i leave their room at night i crave a quick fix, something that will momentarily quench the thirst for true connection; chocolate, wine, pastries, stupid tv shows, internet shopping.....My energy is spent, my reserves are empty. But is that excuse enough? I want to be a mother more than anything else in this life but i also want to find that sweet balance where i have space to shine no matter what is going on within my household.

I know what i need. i need hot baths, facials, quiet reading time, meditation, yoga, walks, sleep. Any one of these on a daily basis would slowly start to take the tip off the mountain of self-neglect. But even though i "know" what i need i usually choose the quick fix. what's wrong with me? how do i get ahead just enough so i have the energy to give back to myself?

well, even as i write this i feel my breath deepen and a familiar part of me awaken. it has been too long....this time away. how can i as a mother not disappear as a woman? and maybe even blossom and thrive? is it possible to be the kind of mother i am and want to be and be fully myself? hmmmm.

the agony of thought

I have stood in the open door of the fridge so many times in the last few days munching on a chunk of hazelnut chocolate, then a chunk of cheese, then a pickle, then a chunk of bread, some carrots, a tomato..maybe more chocolate and then a few spoonfulls of strawberry ice cream (haagan dazs of course). I stuff my face for a few minutes then walk away as if that's gonna solve things....as if all those yummies will stuff me enough to quiet my mind just for a few minutes.

Every time i go to the chinese doc here the receptionist translates his mandarin to her spanese telling me not to think so much. I knowingly nod because its so true....my mind doesnt stop! i think about everything and then i think about how much i'm thinking. Several times a day i have to intentionally close my eyes, breath deeply and visualize my thoughts streaming out of my ears just to create some space.

Its no wonder that all that is going on right now has spun me into a whirlwind of "what-ifs" and fantasies about so many different ways my life could go right now. You see, i have been begging the universe to let me go home since we moved here. I have been waiting for my life to pick back up where i left it 2 years ago. I gave birth to my sweet #2, packed our bags and left all behind that created my little nest. The postpartum hormones and the shock of facing life in a foreign country has never really worn off. And I just purchased one way tickets back home but the days prior i was a wreck and still am.

I have lived and lost myself in the day to day of raising two spirited little ones and i have loved my moments with them but i have always wished that i was home. I have kept buried in my heart this yearning on an almost daily basis. And yet these past few days i have considered prolonging this adventure for practical reasons or maybe just for some sort of masochistic high.

there are moments here that are so magical and that match very near to what i thought my paradise was that i find myself adrift quite a different fantasy. one where i find my peace right here in the rain forest eating mangoes and building fairy houses out of sea shells with my girls. I find these moments invigorating and very confusing as if hating every minute would be easier....more in line with my plan to go home.

honestly, i don't like the daily grind here. i dont think that i have kept that a mystery. As i'm sure i have mentioned before, it is so damn hot that all my inspiration and drive melts off my body 5 minutes after i wake up. I swear this is probably the biggest problem.

Ya, there's that plus 80-90% humidity non stop!

And then there's the whole latin-ness of this city. the sheer overwhelm that is the streets. It's the noise, the exhaust.....


the poverty, the wealth and the crazy gap between that is too disturbing to my hippie self who wants justice for all.





What's strange to me is that it's hard to leave. It's so many things. it's the simple fact that moving a family is a big deal but i can feel much more complex stirrings going on inside of me. the "hardships" of this place has been such good fodder for my complaints and my stuckedness. And now, with "paradise" at my fingertips i will have to be responsible for my happiness and what if it doesnt just come when i step off the plane like those little purple pills? And what am i giving up by not forging on here? How will i survive in the desert, in the snow? What will i do without the ocean and the sand and the tropical fruits? How will i build what i think i want? what if this idea i have of home is just in my mind?

....oh there is so much more but i just got tired and brain is shutting down.....for now.

Yucky

i am not going to use caps. just to warn you. the left shift button has been successfully removed by my one year old and i just don’t feel like dealing with the right shift. it takes me off my train of thought.
today is a really thick, sticky, yucky day. honestly, the last few days have been the same. well, maybe it’s been creeping in for about a week now. i was blaming it on my period but now that i’m on the third day of it, with no sign of relief, i’m not so sure i can use that reason.
i have been feeling “up” for months now so i’m not sure what happened. to start, i need to just let out the superficial stuff that is irritating me: i need a yard, i want to live on the ground floor, i want to plant and dig and i want my babes to get dirty with our own dirt, not some park dirt that is mixed with dirty straws, popsicle sticks and other people. i want my own. i feel so stuck and isolated in this apartment. i want privacy but i want to be outside. i want to be outside without anyone else watching me or any rules to follow. i need mother earth. i crave her.
i don’t know how to be a mama when i feel like this. i can’t connect to myself, let alone my babies. i dont know how to meet them and to hold space for tantrums and upsets, to nourish their bodies, and be creative with play. it’s all too much for me right now. i feel overwhelmed. satya had a febrile seizure two weeks ago and that experience lives in a tight little bubble of stress above my stomach. roseola is going around right now and we might have been exposed and that is adding air to that bubble. i am so scared that she’ll get a fever and i’ll have to watch her little body seize again. i hate that. i feel her forehead 37 times a day. after that horrible experience we were so fragile that we gave her the prescription antibiotics for some minor infection she had. i hate that, too. i never gave aiyana antibiotics, and of course i would if either kid really needed it, but i don’t think this was that situation. some part of my traumatized self probably thought that it would make the seizure better. and now she has a horrible diaper rash because her system got all out of whack. and there is no one here for me to go see or to get help from. they are all so conventional. i feel weak. i haven’t forgiven myself for that. maybe somewhere, too, i blame myself that she had a seizure. my body made her and something went wrong. the thermostat in her brain isn’t working right. thank god its not a lifelong thing. i just have to make it thru 4 more years! i feel helpless.
i’m lonely. there are not many people in the world who can bring comfort and witness me entirely in my yuckiness and meet me there and hold me until i melt. there are a few, thank god. am i supposed to be able to pull myself out of this alone? is that the goal? aren’t we made to live in herds? there are few animals who live alone. i’m not one of them. i need my people. they nourish me, inspire me and bring purpose to my smiles. i want to live on a farm where there is so much freedom, so much earth, so much purpose and i want to be surrounded by my people and gather often, learn to sew together, drum, dance, bathe, paint, cook ,eat, sing. it’s all so much richer in group. my voice just doesn’t sound that great alone. i cant instill in my children the kind of purpose i want life to have alone. i need my village. where is my village?
i’m not even sure i really like having a maid. she has taken part of my job away, which is good but now what am i supposed to do? sad, i know. there must be a million things to do besides cleaning and laundry. and yes, there are but in the waldorf philosophy much of the daily activities with the young child are based around the tasks of the homemaker. the little ones mimic your work and physically work beside you. play and crafts are added to the day but cannot be the main part. maybe i’m spending too much close attention to them. i need to do busy things close to them so they see me hard at work. so i guess, projects or things that i like to do. what do i like to do? write, read, draw. ahhhhh. i feel like i am always self- analyzing and telling myself where i need to be better and what needs to change. its tiring. do other people just live without so much inner dialog? i want to be ok with myself and just be in peace and love and act accordingly. why is that so hard for me? see, there it is again! and again! b r e a t h e
my hair is half grey, really at least 1/3. its sad and scary. my boobs sag. i have to wash under them now. yeah. not cool. i could go on but its making me feel sad. i dont really want to pick on myself physically on a blog. that hurts my feelings.
today i told my 3 year old that mama feels yucky in her body and i’m cranky and i don’t feel alot of love in my body. she told me that our dog oso will give me some love. that felt good. not to look to the dog for love but to be honest with her and not pretend that i’m a perfect, happy, energetic mama.
ok, gotta shower before we go off to our play group.