Saturday, July 12, 2014

Small world, big life

It is a small world that I've been inhabiting.

Sure, it kinda comes with the territory during the school holidays. And when you're the mama of a four month old.

And don't get me wrong: there is a lot of joy in this tiny world. Smiles and cuddles and the most delicious chub. Walks in the bracing wind, swaddled in woolly layers, towards the promise of good coffee. Rainy days with jammies and craft projects and an open fire and baking and sometimes even sunshine.

But psychically, it's been very cramped indeed.

I could fill this space with the minutiae of my mind's current obsessions. The vagaries of my milk supply. The impact of a new multivitamin. A helluva lot of blood work. Detailed catalogues of the foodstuffs I shovel into my gob and when and why. The noted correlation between a growing baby and an aching back. Shame lists of impulse internet purchases. The number of times my sleep is interrupted each night.

It's pretty much all I think about. It's pretty much all I talk about. (At this stage, you'd be justified in feeling sorry for my husband.)

To be honest, I'm wary of boring you. Because I know there are days where I bore myself senseless.

But that seems to me to be quite an important clue.

It's true: this is just the way things are for now. It's a wonderful time but there are aspects of it that feel hard, even though I feel totally blessed to be here. I really do I wish I could get out more. And more time to myself would be very gratefully received.

But that's sorta the point, yes?

I'm here in the thick of it pretty much every day.

No evenings lost in music or days wandering the gallery or ploughing through a day at the office or meandering blissfully through bookstores. Fewer social outings and conversations with kindred spirits that connect me to my self. No days spent lounging or sipping wine and nibbling canapes or reading a book from cover to cover.

No distractions from my stuff.

No choice but to stick with it.

But something tells me that, when I emerge from this cocoon, I'll be glad that I did.

1 comment:

  1. Your observation of new mamahood is dead on. My baby is now 21 yrs. old and as I read this I was filled with awareness and gratitude that I do have so much more time to myself, just as you described. It is such a blessing and yet I miss the tightness and intimacy of when he was young. It is strange that now I can go two or three days without talking to him and he was there, strapped to my side, for almost 13 years (he has special needs). I admit I miss him and it was such a privilege to help him grow up, to give that much of myself when I didn't think I could. I think you will indeed be glad you made it.