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2ManyOpenTabs

The hectic life as a mom, wife, daughter, + writer equates a continuous and simultaneous running of all cylinders.

Month

January 2016

You Are Here.

Have you ever noticed that there’s no sense of contentedness when you’re a parent? You barely make your way home from the hospital before people are already asking you when you’re planning to have your next one. I can distincly remember comprehending the ridiculousness of such a question, and the fact that I’d just dedicated the last 10 months to growing a child and more recently, at that point, the last 22 hours birthing said child, yet I too, still fall victim to the continuum model of motherhood. It’s this ever-present parental momentum that seems to plague me throughout each stage of kid’s childhood. And while I’d love to be focused on the truly astounding characteristics my children are currently exhibiting, basking in the gloriousness each stage brings, I feel this nagging pressure to be constantly looking forward to those things my child should be doing next, keeping me from being —and enjoying—the present.

Take for instance: crawling. A truly imperative milestone in and of itself and one with which has been proven to increase brain functionality, stimulating those areas which help with memory capabilities, better reading comprehension, and lifelong hand-eye coordination. Yet, instead of celebrating this crazy talent that my little one had so proficiently mastered, I set my sights to the next stage: walking. How insane is that? I mean, let us take stock of the fact that a mere 6 months ago, he were more a stationary object than anything else, akin to that of a decorative pillow over an actual human, and by all intents and purposes, he just sat there eating and pooping. But alas, he’s mastered a fundamental skill all by himself and I can’t even give him enough credit to let him just do that for minute? What a jerk he must think I am. I mean seriously, can you imagine such pressure? What if adults were expected to learn at such lightening speed? ‘Ohh, you just learned quantum physics? How cute! Now, teach yourself how to perform brain surgery.’

You Are Here.

Yet, I can’t take total credit for the complete and utter sabotage that I place unto myself. It’s also part and parcel to the fact that as parents these days, we’re inundated with milestone reminders that tell you exactly where and what your child should be doing at that exact, finite moment, similar to those mall directories that give you the ‘You are here’ coordinates. And so, if perhaps your child is not ‘right there‘ and say, ‘over here‘ instead, they give you this artificial cause for concern and so starts the cycle of constant trajectory thinking and your time for relishing in the beauty of today’s talents, are thrown swiftly out the window.

So, in an effort to satisfy the ubiquitous resolution in the new year and preserve a bit of sanity for myself and wonderment surrounding my children’s childhood, I’ve decided to make a conscious effort to shut off the continual mile markers and establish my own coordinats for happiness. And so instead of measuring my child based on are you here?, I’m starting to think in terms of how happy are you here?

The glass half empty

I wish I could say that there weren’t any resolutions to be made this year due in large because I’d done such an amazing job sticking to those that I’d resolved to make last year. However, that just isn’t the case. So, as with most everyone I know, I too, find myself joining the ranks of trying to set a few resolutions for which to abide in the new year.

One of them has been to become more consistent with my water intake throughout the day. Now, let’s rewind to 5 years ago when my children count was zero and my biggest responsibility was to make sure my dog ate in the morning and my husband and I ate at night. Done and done, right? Back then, I drank water like it was my job and my skin was glowing and my energy was plentiful and my body was hydrated and happy. The key for me, was to always remember to have my waterbottle next to me, filled up. That way, it was a consistent reminder to constantly drink throughout the day. Now, fast forward to the present day and assess the current situation: dark circles have permenantly taken claim over my undereyes like that of a football player preparing for play on a sunny day (think black grease). My energy levels, while still high by most people’s estimation, I do feel like I coul on many days, in fact fall asleep standing up. And I wouldn’t even be picky about it, I mean, the grocery store? Sure. The preschool drop-off lane? You bet. The Target dressing room? Yessss please. And then that leads me to the last assessment: my body… Probably less ‘hydrated and happy’, and a little more similiar to ‘abused and adandoned’. Kind of like that of an old bike tire, deflated and left for another day.

So I’ve started putting together a game plan for how I would combat my less-than-stellar water intake in an effort to put my resolution to action and return to a good water regimn, and it occured to me why this has been such a challenging task to master. It’s actually not as a result of my lack of disipline in remembering to fill up my water bottles or to even keep them with me throughout the day, it’s because while my children both have their own multitude of drinking apperati, they for some reason, insist on drinking from mine! So, not only are they not left where I put them, they’re almost always empty, to boot. It’s like having two little water thieves that break into my house, daily. Two cute water thieves, but thieves, nevertheless. And while it’s true, they do rob me of my hopeful hydration and wishful vitality, they do provide me with quite a few other pretty amazing things, and maybe even sleep will be one of them, one day. So I’ll consider it a wash.

So, now that I’ve gotten to the bottom of why I’m always thirsty and longing for the water that I was sure I filled up in my waterbottle that I’m certain is somewhere around here, that leads me to my next resolution: no more little thieves. 🙂

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