Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Agent of Chaos

My favorite drawing by Donovan so far. Pure Abstract Expressionism.
It was 1:45 pm, fifteen minutes past Donovan's nap time and he was just climbing into the crib (he can't yet climb out though -- a little vestige of containment for which I am grateful). He started jumping up and down, refusing to lay down on his pillow. I then attempted a totally ineffective persuasion:

"Here, lay down on your pillow; I just washed it today and it's all nice and clean."

As if he cares about clean laundry! He's 2 years, 7 months old and he is the perfect mess machine. I couldn't do it better if I tried. As witness to his age and development, I marvel how he has absolutely no sense of order and it makes me wonder how as a species, humans ever became civilized. Imagine if the world were run by 2.5 year olds! It would be a utter chaos.    

Today I got tired of his new Thomas Trackmaster and Wooden Railway sets in the middle of the living room rug, so took them apart and stacked them all neatly in the big cardboard box I designated to store these trains. He watched me from the couch. When I was finished, he came over and picked up the box and turned it upside down. I sputtered and rushed to grab the box and stop the madness before all my neatening was for naught. Oh the hamster wheel of it all. Clean, mess, repeat.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Flossing and Meditating

I flossed and meditated tonight. Two small things I started doing this week (ok, twice) that bring me back to myself and help normalize me. These first two months as I try to find my way with Estelle and Donovan take so much from me. Some days, I have so, so little time for myself that I am almost totally disconnected from my inner life.

Tonight my gums throbbed pleasantly as I sat in lotus position on the carpet in the office. I only sat for a few minutes but in that time I was just me, myself and I, a respite from the demands of 10-week old baby and a 2.5 year old toddler.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Why Moms Get Fat

I know why moms get fat. It's pretty much a cliche that women gain weight with pregnancy--maybe too much--and then can't lose the pounds afterward and thus remain heavy, never to regain their once-slim figure. I used to think derisively of moms on TV or in magazines or ones I knew who got heavy after having kids. "Weakness." I thought.

But suddenly I understand how this happens. How the pounds creep onto you when you're home with kids and before you know it, you're way overweight.

Ok, I'm not way overweight. But eight weeks after Estelle's birth, I feel as though I've plateaued. I'm not dropping baby weight anymore, even thought I'm breastfeeding. And the realization has hit me that if I were to continue at the rate I've been consuming chocolate, cookies, treats, and desserts, surely I'll be fat before long. I'm caught up in the grip of a massive sugar possession. Needing sweets throughout the day to cope with tantrums; feedings; changing diapers; getting kicked and hit at the changing table; wiping up stuff all the time, rushing to get a load of laundry done; vacuuming and dusting here and there, but the house seeming dirty all the time anyway; one crying, then the other crying, then both crying AT THE SAME TIME. It's the all day obligation to others' needs and no time for yourself that drives one to seek some little pleasure, a little taste of joy.