traveling

In my twenties I lived in both Germany and England. Whenever I would return to the US in between, I would feel this sadness. I would miss my former home. I would crave Brotchen and a strong Kaffee or dream of sitting in an English pub and drinking a real hard cider. But whenever I was back in my European home I would long for Vermont. I’d fantasize about a hike in the mountains or a trip with family and friends to some fall festival or a summer fire by the lake. I always felt torn. I no longer felt quite at home in either place.

This is how I feel about being a working mom. Now that I am working I deeply miss being with Lukas. I miss our afternoons together, going to the library or some playgroup or the aquarium. I want to be the sole architect of his day. But I know that when I was simply at home with him that I was rattling my cage with intellectual boredom. I was desperate for some other sign to hang on myself besides “mama”. So I busted out and here I am straddling the border. I am not exactly living in either country. I spend my mornings in the US and my afternoons in Europe. Each country has different customs and languages. Sometimes I forget which language is spoken and I find myself trying to work and be professional while I still have baby brain.

I went to an interview the other day for a teaching job. Now I had a pretty bad cold and I didn’t want to reschedule, so I drugged myself up and forged onward. This was a grave mistake. First we chatted about the weather and how we all longed for spring. This was o.k. This language was spoken frequently at mommie groups. I was a professional at small talk. However, quite abruptly the plane landed on foreign soil.
“What is your teaching philosophy?”
My interviewers raised their pens and prepared to record my insightful and well prepared answer. Eyebrows raised. Silence in the room. My brain froze. The little mice on the wheel were trapped knee deep in mushed peas and cheerios. Nothing was coming. So I babbled about “honoring the individual student and their individual needs while working to help each individual meet their…..” ahhh, someone stop me. I stopped me. I asked to answer the question later. “Sure, sure” said my interviewers…..subtext: (“you just won’t be getting the job but that’s fine, whatever you need.”) I managed the other questions and somehow returned to address my dreaded and under rehearsed teaching philosophy. Yes, my brain had arrived in its new country, a bit jetlagged and groggy, but it had survived the bumpy landing. I don’t know if I will get the job. I’m not sure that I really care. Though I do love to travel, I also love to come home.

change

Although we know that things change, that no moment is truly replaceable, there is nothing like having a baby to really bring this lesson home. I burrow deep into routines and comforts to ignore the fact that life can and is changing every moment. Lukas grows and develops so fast that as soon as I get attached to one of our little rhythms he ditches it for a new endeavor. He has to. It is in his very nature to shrug crawling for walking and babbling for talking. How else could he evolve into a full blown coffee drinking, left side of the bed sleeping, eggs and pancakes on Saturday mornings adult?
We had a snow day on Friday. I got to visit my old, pre-daycare life. It was awesome. We went to the mommy group and chatted and played and ate funny store bought cookies and cakes. Lukas fell asleep in the car and I got his entire two hour nap at home. It was cozy inside and I made carrot soup and buckwheat muffins and felt like super mommie again when he woke up and ate them. Later that afternoon we played in the living room as the light dimmed outside. Nora Jones sang and lulled away the time. Lukas wandered to his little rocking chair and sat down. He looked over to me as I sat in my big rocking chair and he smiled. This will pass so fast I thought. He won’t proudly stick out his tongue or give a high five upon request for long. And the rest of life is changing around me as fast as he is….that is the crazy thing. He is just a visual reminder of how quickly the river is always moving. I had this wave of emotion as I looked at him. It was that pained and beautiful feeling that we call love. Thank you Lukas I said. Thank you for keeping me here in this moment.….for making me change….for reminding me that like you learning to walk, I too must continue to evolve or I will just become a rock in the river….hardened, immobile and eventually in time washed and tumbled despite my futile unconscious stance. Now let’s see if that lesson can stick. I don’t know. I might still need further and future instructions...but let's just wait and see.