seperation

This week I am back to being full time mommy. The play is over and here I am, dropped off at my door with my baby and a stroller and my desire to walk and walk and walk with Lukas….keep moving. Staying here in this house, in this moment, in this stillness amplifies the isolation that naturally comes with being a mother. I sometimes think that I am such a wimp with all this mother stuff. I have so many supportive friends, a wonderful family, interesting neighbors. I have so much community, but still I feel alone in this journey. No one else can do it for me. No one else is responsible for me and my decisions.
Jorg is trying to put Lukas to bed right now. He hasn’t been going down as easily the last few nights and he wakes up and cries. We speculate that it could be some food he is eating or teeth coming in or a full or empty belly. We don’t really know….only he knows. Perhaps it’s that he is realizing that he is separate. Perhaps he is just starting to understand that no one else can really do it for him….I can’t fall asleep for him….and although he is deeply loved and supported, it is his journey. Maybe we all have separation anxiety over and over again throughout life. Maybe it takes a lifetime to really understand that one.

yoga baby

Yesterday I attempted our first baby yoga class. It was a gift to Lukas for Christmas and I finally seem to have some time for it. I know you must be wondering what baby yoga is….how can my 6 month old who doesn’t even have any interest in rolling over and fusses whenever he is left on his back benefit from yoga? Well, its more of a gathering in a yoga studio….Mommies or Daddies sit around with their babies and sing songs…move little bodies….swing and bounce and roll with the little ones on yoga mats all the time working with the principals of yoga. It’s quite sweet, or that is how I imagined it would be. Yesterday, however, it didn’t feel so sweet. I had to go to the dentist in the morning and Lukas came along therefore skipping his nap. I rocked him in his car seat while my teeth were scraped and sprayed…that was a new experience. It was 10:10 when we finished prodding and poking my mouth and the yoga class wasn’t until 11:00 (or so I thought). Lukas needed a nap and there wasn’t enough time to go home so we drove around and I dreamed off and he slept for 40 minutes. We killed time. At about 5 to 11:00 I pulled up at the studio to find no parking space. We drove around until I found one….quite far away. I woke Lukas and carried him hastily to the class. We lost his homemade sock in our rush. When I walked into the class it appeared to have started. They changed the time and I got in 15 minutes late for the 45 minute class! All the mommies and babies sat calm and yogafied while I tried to get Lukas out of his car seat, take off my shoes and gather my annoyance so that I could let it go. We found a place in the circle and joined in singing about monkeys and trains and then proceeded to attempt yoga postures with baby in hand. We lifted and bounced and swung our babies. Lukas spit up. He was fussy because he hadn’t slept enough. He was cranky about being tossed about while tired. I was cranky about being the mom who missed the first class and came in late and stressed with a fussy baby. I imagined all the calm yogi mommies were looking over thinking “that poor child is just fussy because he has a stressed out and disorganized mom.” Normally Lukas is really calm. He’s just tired I wanted to tell them all. “It’s not my fault….I just came from the dentist, my card with the time on it was wrong, he missed his nap, he is a good baby. I’m a good mom. Really…now can we be part of your happy yoga world? Please.” But then Lukas topped it all off with a great one…sealing our fate as yoga rejects. During the introduction, meet your neighbor portion of class, Lukas peed on himself. As I was smiling and greeting my neighbor she pointed out “your son seems to be peeing down his leg.” “Oh.” I exclaimed “Oh, I guess I should change him.” The woman turned away abruptly to meet a new neighbor. Now Lukas was fussy and I was trying to change him while all the other moms were ohming and rubbing their babies tummies and backs. What a mess. It seemed that I had just settled Lukas and it was time to pack him up and go again…which he hated and fussed through. While all the other mommies were connecting, sharing stories, planning lunch dates and walks, Lukas and I were both fussing in our own ways and resigning ourselves to each others eternal companionship. Feeling sorry for ourselves, no one will want to play with us…we are the late and fussy ones who pee ourselves…..sigh…so what did we learn… maybe that relaxation and community just can’t be bought…..and that it isn’t a good idea to pee on yourself when you are trying to make new friends.

oh pioneer

So the time has come and Jorg has gone for the week. He left on a snowy Monday morning during a wild April storm. As I cleared slushy snow from the windshield of my Toyota Corolla I felt myself identifying with Pioneer women who held down the homestead. “Lukas” I said “Daddy has gone away and now we must be brave and grown up as we face this challenge.” And here I am. It’s 10:24 PM on Wednesday, Jorg will be back tomorrow, I have had a friend sleep over every night. My friend Jennifer is coming over soon to keep me company in the wee hours should a problem arise. Here I am with all this support in the modern age of computers, phones, radio, electricity, lights and heat. Here I am living on a well traveled street surrounded by neighbors with warmly lit houses and still I find a corner of my home where I can feel safe. I turn on all the lights. I turn on the music. I carry the phone with me. I really don’t know how the pioneer women did do it. It seems to be my constant reminder in times of struggle. Whenever I get frustrated or exhausted with Lukas I say to myself, “Think of the pioneer women with all those children living in the middle of nowhere. Think of how displaced those first settlers felt so far away from their relatives, so far from all that they have known and now in the middle of all this wild territory.” They did it. So you can.
My students had their play tonight. I tried to bring Lukas but it didn’t work. He was tired and fussy and despite much help from friendly parents, it just didn’t work. My students did a great job. I had begun to worry that it was all going to fail, that I had chosen a show that was too complicated, that the parents would hate me and the students would be scarred for life and never want to do another play. A few days ago they didn’t know their lines. We had no set. It didn’t seem possible. But last night when I left Lukas with my friend and went off to the play, I felt elated as I watched them not just make it through but enjoy it and do the show brilliantly. When one student remarked glowingly to me in the parking lot after “It really worked! I didn’t think we could do it but we did.” I was reminded of an Emily Dickinson poem that had always been my favorite in high school. “We never know how high we are- till we are asked to rise- and then if we are true to plan-our statures touch the skies.” Perhaps it is the same with me and the pioneer women. If I were placed in their shoes I would probably just do it. I might not have as much comfort but I would make it through. At least that is what I like to think from my warm and cozy home as I quietly whisper…..yahoo Jorg is back tomorrow!!

god willing

It’s snowing again. It’s almost Easter and the ground is covered with white and frozen. Lukas is sleeping a lot today. I think he is either going through another growth spurt, or he’s depressed and he’s dreaming of Palm trees. Either way, I’m not going to wake him up. Jorg and I looked at old pictures of Lukas last night from the early days. It made me realize what an intense and amazing time that was. It also made me realize how far we have come….how much of my freedom I have gotten back already. I know that I often complain about how I am impatient to get my life back. I seem to be at a phase where I take two steps forward and one step back. I move closer to my old self and then something changes and we are back to less sleep or a new challenge with the boy.
I guess that I just always thought that some day I would get back to where I was, to what I was. I thought that even if it took a year, two, three, five years….someday it would again be the way it was. Slowly, very slowly I begin to realize that it will never again be the way it was. I realize that between one week to the next….from pregnancy to birth…the entire way that I live my life can change. My self concept, my daily routines, my sense of responsibility, my sleep, my body….all of it changed and it will never again be as it was. But I think that we live in this false reality of believing that we are the same day to day….we try to make things the same so that we feel we have a sense of control when in reality, we don’t have control over anything. We rush around making “plans”. My mother always says “life happens while you are making plans.” Easy to say….hard to really understand. A friend of mine who lived in Morocco told me that the Moroccan people would often follow a statement of a plan with “god willing”. I like this. I think that we need more of this understanding….the understanding that we don’t have the final say on things. Becoming a parent slowly teaches me that I don’t really have control. I don’t have control over my sleep, my baby’s sleep, the changes in my body, who my son will be when he grows up or if it snows in April. I am just a passenger….and what a ride it has been thus far. May the ride continue as beautifully as it has been…..god willing.

blah

Its Monday, gray, rainy and me, VPR and a cup of hot coffee (decaf) are sharing the kitchen while Lukas sleeps. It’s been a while since I have written. Lukas and I went on vacation to Florida. We visited my parents in their little tropical paradise. We slept on the sun porch. It was screened in but felt like we were outside. We woke with the sunrise to the sound of the wind blowing palms outside our little room. Lukas was fascinated with his new bare feet and legs. He cried when we returned and I put his socks on. But I don’t feel like reliving it all at the moment. I don’t feel like bragging about my little get away. I feel a bit blah really. I can’t really figure out why. I blame the adjustment to this climate. I blame the lack of sleep. I blame my hernia, which is acting up and making it difficult to do my yoga and sit up routine. I blame the full moon. But really I don’t know what to blame. My external life is actually great at the moment. I am back teaching at the Waldorf School. Spring is here and it’s getting warmer. Lukas smiles and laughs with ease these days. He is eating solid foods. I slept pretty well last night. So, what am I complaining about? I just feel a little bored with it all. I used to say that boredom was a symptom for a lack of imagination. I don’t feel as imaginative these days. I find it hard to dream off into a creative project. I feel like I have to DO something with my free time….I can’t just sit and dream and reflect….and those dreams are usually where my inspiration comes from. I still fear interruption. I have two breaks a day when he naps and I want to use those well. It used to be that he would take an hour nap and I would feel as if I got myself back. These days I am greedy. I want a day. I want a weekend. I loved my vacation with Lukas….but it was a discovery that taking a vacation with your child is not really a vacation. It isn’t the way it used to be. I was still pumping and feeding and watching and caring. It doesn’t stop. Maybe after almost 6 months I need a break. Could that possibly be the reason for this little cloud over my mood? I don’t know but I feel a little tired of being strong. I want to fall down into myself. I want to look after only me. Is that so wrong?