Two year olds...
Still small enough and adorable enough to incite a strong desire to kiss their messy haired sweaty little heads whilst holding them tight as can be...
Yet...old enough, determined enough, and physically capable of doing things which also make you want to drink by 3 in the afternoon...
Yep. I think that about sums it up.
If you're having a really rough day with your little one, hold out-they usually alternate the halos and the horns, mama (or daddy)!
I think it's all about communication-they seem to understand us-yet they are still very confused about much of what we say or what is going on around them. Then, add to that the very important developing sense of self and of boundaries (which are begging to be pushed) and you have the two year old dilemma.
I am practicing being completely specific and mind numbingly repetitive. The trouble is that when the mind is spread in the many different directions necessary to prepare food, watch baby, answer phone calls, remove child from various situations she gets herself into that end with the words, "Uh-oh, I'm stuck!", etc...the specificities poof right out of the head.
This is when it's a good idea to breathe-maybe with eyes closed, maybe not-and realize that this is just today. I am not and never will be perfect. My child doesn't require perfection-she needs to see my response to the unexpected and she needs to know that changes in her mood, my mood, or our environment will not alter how loved she is.
Usually, I can get out of the beginnings of a chaotic outlook by sitting down at her level and doing something to make her giggle-which makes her compliant enough to let me hold her-which allows me to inhale her sweet little smell (her special smell is kind of like bread being baked)-which reminds me of countless other moments that have linked together to make our bond-which ends with me feeling kind of giddy, more together, and aware.
When this time has passed, she'll be speaking clearly and will no longer have the kitty dishes I so love (a friend calls them that-the little indentations on a babies hands over their knuckles-she said her mom was sad when she noticed the kitty dishes gone from her children-marking their passage out of babyhood). I will be willing to lose all the hair from an eyebrow (or worse) just to spend a few moments with two year old Ever...and with any luck, the smell of fresh baking bread will give me the shadow of one such time that I stopped, held her, and breathed.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Now Leaving (Your) Comfort Zone...
Eric, in true Eric fashion...made me get out of the house and into the city earlier this week. I used to LOVE doing so-in fact, I would leave Newark (where I taught) after school, drive to the train station, and go in to meet him and his work buddies for soccer games (followed by beer) as well as attend church there at my favorite place of worship thus far on the east coast, All Angels.
However, I have since lost that feeling of wanting to go all the time-true, we live an hour away rather than the half hour of yesteryear-but that is not what drives my lackluster response to proposed forays into the city. I'm not sure I can JUST blame it on motherhood, but something has really shifted for me. It's as if all the little ways I used to try to find at least some structure in my day in order for things to go smoothly has completely taken over my life...so much so that anything that would push me outside of that brings on anxiety.
The day I was supposed to head in arrived and it was not a very good day to begin with-I have been having a recurring allergic response to something which prevents me from wearing my beloved eyeliner and I went to see a dermatologist about it. She promptly prescribed a $390 cream which with our current insurance I get at the bargain price of $190. Yes, seriously. I did not buy said cream-treating it with emu oil and not wearing my usual stuff seems to be working nicely, thank you. After that-it was a rush to get Ever fed and napped followed by another rush to make our house look a little bit presentable for grandma-who was so generously staying over to babysit. Somewhere in the midst of this it hit, the anxiety headache that ALWAYS seems to strike when I have to leave her and go anywhere further than a half hour away. It freaks me out-no matter how much I trust she will be okay and is in great hands-the headache arrives. Arrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Anyhow-after all of the anxiety and rushing-I finally left-proceeded to miss my train, and drove in. It ended up being a great night. We hung out in this relaxed almost divey bar with pool tables, ping-pong, chess, and a Five Guys (delicious burgers) on the corner we ordered take out from (this bar lets you bring in your own food, awww yeah). One of my besties showed up-chola code name, Chygirl-and we drank (Not too much-I had to drive home, remember?), chatted, and shushed each other when our favorite song sections came on-the second place we went to played In Rainbows in it's entirety....nice!! Add to that: Having a night out with my man, laughing with friends, and just doing something we hadn't done in a really lo-ho-hoong time..
Upon picking up the car, I found out it only cost $12 to park there for nights-I couldn't believe it-$12 to park a car in Manhattan overnight anytime after 4 p.m. Yup-everything turned out fine, well worth the headache.
So, mommies-if you are like me and a little resistant to your man's efforts to do something outside of your comfort zone, give it a chance! The little bit of stress involved in doing it will be rewarded in the moments of just feeling like YOU again. Not mommy you, wife you, work you-just the woman inside of all of these definitions-when you get back home you will feel renewed and will also have a healthy sense of priority. How important is it to have a super-clean organized home when you don't take time to enjoy the people living in it? (That includes you, mama.)
However, I have since lost that feeling of wanting to go all the time-true, we live an hour away rather than the half hour of yesteryear-but that is not what drives my lackluster response to proposed forays into the city. I'm not sure I can JUST blame it on motherhood, but something has really shifted for me. It's as if all the little ways I used to try to find at least some structure in my day in order for things to go smoothly has completely taken over my life...so much so that anything that would push me outside of that brings on anxiety.
The day I was supposed to head in arrived and it was not a very good day to begin with-I have been having a recurring allergic response to something which prevents me from wearing my beloved eyeliner and I went to see a dermatologist about it. She promptly prescribed a $390 cream which with our current insurance I get at the bargain price of $190. Yes, seriously. I did not buy said cream-treating it with emu oil and not wearing my usual stuff seems to be working nicely, thank you. After that-it was a rush to get Ever fed and napped followed by another rush to make our house look a little bit presentable for grandma-who was so generously staying over to babysit. Somewhere in the midst of this it hit, the anxiety headache that ALWAYS seems to strike when I have to leave her and go anywhere further than a half hour away. It freaks me out-no matter how much I trust she will be okay and is in great hands-the headache arrives. Arrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhh.
Anyhow-after all of the anxiety and rushing-I finally left-proceeded to miss my train, and drove in. It ended up being a great night. We hung out in this relaxed almost divey bar with pool tables, ping-pong, chess, and a Five Guys (delicious burgers) on the corner we ordered take out from (this bar lets you bring in your own food, awww yeah). One of my besties showed up-chola code name, Chygirl-and we drank (Not too much-I had to drive home, remember?), chatted, and shushed each other when our favorite song sections came on-the second place we went to played In Rainbows in it's entirety....nice!! Add to that: Having a night out with my man, laughing with friends, and just doing something we hadn't done in a really lo-ho-hoong time..
Upon picking up the car, I found out it only cost $12 to park there for nights-I couldn't believe it-$12 to park a car in Manhattan overnight anytime after 4 p.m. Yup-everything turned out fine, well worth the headache.
So, mommies-if you are like me and a little resistant to your man's efforts to do something outside of your comfort zone, give it a chance! The little bit of stress involved in doing it will be rewarded in the moments of just feeling like YOU again. Not mommy you, wife you, work you-just the woman inside of all of these definitions-when you get back home you will feel renewed and will also have a healthy sense of priority. How important is it to have a super-clean organized home when you don't take time to enjoy the people living in it? (That includes you, mama.)
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Wait and See
I learned something today. Before I say no to something, it's best to see just what my little one has in mind. This morning while getting breakfast together she requested the ice cream scooper. She likes to drum with it, so I handed it to her. Sure enough, after sitting her in the high chair, she began to drum with it. Then, I put down her bowl of oatmeal/applesauce that I usually give her. She proceeded to eat with the ice cream scoop. I switched it with her spoon and let me know just what she thought of that with a procession of howls and swats aimed at retrieving said scooper.
So, I gave it back and watched. That little booger ate her breakfast with it and did a fantastic job of it, too. So-as long as it's not dangerous or rude in some way, I have decided to watch and wait when she uses all (almost) 2 years of the wisdom garnered in her life to try something new.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Eyes of Truth
Today while practicing yoga I realized something that is usually an underlying awareness as I practice. I regard my body differently as a result of yoga and where it led me.
Pre-yoga (began to practice in 1995 as a supplement to ballet, but began daily practice in 1998 after I had stopped dancing) my body was something that represented me physically to the world-it held clothes that told others about me and of course I compared it to the bodies of others ruthlessly.
When I began a daily practice of yoga, something started to shift in my mind and it changed the way my eyes looked upon my body. I was no longer detached from it-it became a vehicle for me to literally become a prayer-it led me into silence, peace, and stillness. It was beautiful regardless of shape or appearance, I was in awe of it.
Today, as I sat in pigeon pose-breathing-a soft focus gaze on my inner right foot-I had a knowledge that my foot and everything attached to it was sacred, beautiful, and almost entirely responsible for the state of love and grace I found myself in. I say almost because I credit God for that state, at the time I began getting acquainted with yoga, I was not open to Christianity. He knew me well enough to understand that if I would just have a little time each day to shut my mouth and see myself through His eyes, I would open up. Of course, that's exactly what happened.
I guess what this all means is that God finds you where you are and He loves you where you are. Receiving that love and recognizing yourself as lovable is damn near impossible for people...but, it is possible.
Pre-yoga (began to practice in 1995 as a supplement to ballet, but began daily practice in 1998 after I had stopped dancing) my body was something that represented me physically to the world-it held clothes that told others about me and of course I compared it to the bodies of others ruthlessly.
When I began a daily practice of yoga, something started to shift in my mind and it changed the way my eyes looked upon my body. I was no longer detached from it-it became a vehicle for me to literally become a prayer-it led me into silence, peace, and stillness. It was beautiful regardless of shape or appearance, I was in awe of it.
Today, as I sat in pigeon pose-breathing-a soft focus gaze on my inner right foot-I had a knowledge that my foot and everything attached to it was sacred, beautiful, and almost entirely responsible for the state of love and grace I found myself in. I say almost because I credit God for that state, at the time I began getting acquainted with yoga, I was not open to Christianity. He knew me well enough to understand that if I would just have a little time each day to shut my mouth and see myself through His eyes, I would open up. Of course, that's exactly what happened.
I guess what this all means is that God finds you where you are and He loves you where you are. Receiving that love and recognizing yourself as lovable is damn near impossible for people...but, it is possible.
Friday, December 10, 2010
The Female Form As Force of Nature
Lately I've begun formulating new thought processes regarding my body. I've been very fortunate in that I take after my mother physically. We can gain weight very quickly but we can also lose it just as quickly. The main difference is that she was done having kids before I had my first. Baby making mid thirties poses new challenges if you are expecting to go back to the body you had before.
After almost two years since I had my baby, my body has not returned to the way it was. I don't think it ever will. I haven't given up and I will continue my practice of yoga (which is about so much more than my appearance) and am doing specific abdominal work (learned while becoming certified for postnatal yoga instruction). The point is finding the place of balance. I want to be healthy and I want to continue doing things that make me healthy but I also want to let go of the part of me who longs for what once was. I carried a human being in my body for nine months and then nursed her for 18 more. Not to mention that without there even being a baby in the mix, hitting your middle thirties changes things-big time. I know women who have babies and then look as if it never happened, I have to admit that I envy them-and I have to point out that this baby making stuff (usually) happened in their twenties.
I keep looking at the clothes I used to wear and how they made me feel that I was able to communicate something about myself to the rest of the world simply by wearing them. Many of them look silly on me now and although I never would have thought myself to be "skinny" before, I now look like a grown woman trying on kids clothes. Finding things that flatter a more curvy figure and still communicate "me" is at best, difficult. It is making me question who it is that I think I am, in fact, and the answer is not easily reached.
The new process I'm working on goes something like this....view your body as the result of what it has done and is capable of. I grew an entire person inside of me and provided everything she needed for survival once she emerged from my womb. I was careful with body products used, food eaten, air breathed, etc. Now, my midsection is different from the one I was so accustomed to...and it should be. Something happened there that is happening each day to women all over the world-a quiet force of nature taking over their bodies, their thoughts, and their emotions. All for the insane privilege of bringing their little one into the universe...
I also carry her with this body, care for her, and make our house into a home. I make my husband very happy with it, too and I have to say that he has told me he enjoys the more curvy frame I now sport.
What do I do for myself with it? While practicing yoga I am able to create more energy or subdue it and always am able to transition from mere movement to a place of worship wherein I thank my creator for this healthy body and for the lifelong joy I have found in simply moving it. Which brings me to dancing-dancing is my natural element, it seems...music brings out the fiercest desire in me to translate with my body what I'm hearing and what it's doing to me. I have always thought it would be so amazing to be able to sing (which I can't-it's quite dreadful when I do), but if I were to have to choose, I could not imagine a life without dance. I also have girlfriends who I have grown exponentially closer with because we share a love of tearing up a dance floor with each other.
I have to keep catching myself in the middle of dissatisfaction and remind myself that I'm dissatisfied because I only see my body through the eyes of comparison. I compare it to the bodies of other women and I compare it to my own past body. I am going to rewire my brain and maybe it won't ever be 100%, but I will start viewing it as the sacred place of creation, love, and art that it is.
I will be gentle with myself. A lovely friend gave me a refrigerator magnet last year reading, "Be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the moon and the stars. In the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul." I will not harm myself through thoughts that bring me down but will love myself and be grateful for this gift that I have.
Yes, body-you are not as tight as you used to be, but you are strong, nurturing, capable, sensual, musically inclined, and bring me closer to God. For all of these reasons, and more, I thank you.
After almost two years since I had my baby, my body has not returned to the way it was. I don't think it ever will. I haven't given up and I will continue my practice of yoga (which is about so much more than my appearance) and am doing specific abdominal work (learned while becoming certified for postnatal yoga instruction). The point is finding the place of balance. I want to be healthy and I want to continue doing things that make me healthy but I also want to let go of the part of me who longs for what once was. I carried a human being in my body for nine months and then nursed her for 18 more. Not to mention that without there even being a baby in the mix, hitting your middle thirties changes things-big time. I know women who have babies and then look as if it never happened, I have to admit that I envy them-and I have to point out that this baby making stuff (usually) happened in their twenties.
I keep looking at the clothes I used to wear and how they made me feel that I was able to communicate something about myself to the rest of the world simply by wearing them. Many of them look silly on me now and although I never would have thought myself to be "skinny" before, I now look like a grown woman trying on kids clothes. Finding things that flatter a more curvy figure and still communicate "me" is at best, difficult. It is making me question who it is that I think I am, in fact, and the answer is not easily reached.
The new process I'm working on goes something like this....view your body as the result of what it has done and is capable of. I grew an entire person inside of me and provided everything she needed for survival once she emerged from my womb. I was careful with body products used, food eaten, air breathed, etc. Now, my midsection is different from the one I was so accustomed to...and it should be. Something happened there that is happening each day to women all over the world-a quiet force of nature taking over their bodies, their thoughts, and their emotions. All for the insane privilege of bringing their little one into the universe...
I also carry her with this body, care for her, and make our house into a home. I make my husband very happy with it, too and I have to say that he has told me he enjoys the more curvy frame I now sport.
What do I do for myself with it? While practicing yoga I am able to create more energy or subdue it and always am able to transition from mere movement to a place of worship wherein I thank my creator for this healthy body and for the lifelong joy I have found in simply moving it. Which brings me to dancing-dancing is my natural element, it seems...music brings out the fiercest desire in me to translate with my body what I'm hearing and what it's doing to me. I have always thought it would be so amazing to be able to sing (which I can't-it's quite dreadful when I do), but if I were to have to choose, I could not imagine a life without dance. I also have girlfriends who I have grown exponentially closer with because we share a love of tearing up a dance floor with each other.
I have to keep catching myself in the middle of dissatisfaction and remind myself that I'm dissatisfied because I only see my body through the eyes of comparison. I compare it to the bodies of other women and I compare it to my own past body. I am going to rewire my brain and maybe it won't ever be 100%, but I will start viewing it as the sacred place of creation, love, and art that it is.
I will be gentle with myself. A lovely friend gave me a refrigerator magnet last year reading, "Be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the moon and the stars. In the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul." I will not harm myself through thoughts that bring me down but will love myself and be grateful for this gift that I have.
Yes, body-you are not as tight as you used to be, but you are strong, nurturing, capable, sensual, musically inclined, and bring me closer to God. For all of these reasons, and more, I thank you.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Poo-Poo Yogabutt
Today while practicing yoga (as usual, via Fit TV on dvr), I was ready to get into a decent relaxation at savasana time. Usually I press stop on the dvr and take a regular 5+ minutes to do so. I think I should preface this by saying that I have taken to practicing while Ever is up rather than her nap time like I did before. It's just more beneficial for me to do it earlier in the day.
Mental picture: Me, eyes closed, palms up, laying flat, relaxed, breathing....ahhhhhh...then sudden pressure on my collarbone almost simultaneously accompanied by a puff of poopie diaper air shooting up my nostrils on an inhale. Eyes open, and there is a little stinky butt right in front of my face that rotates quickly and turns into a pair of happy little aquamarine eyes and a roughly placed sandcastle mold of Mount Rushmore right on my face and the word "pet-ty" (pretty).
Yes, that is my savasana-she made me laugh so hard (ok, a little painfully with that toy shoved into my nose). I kissed her little face all over, scooped her up, and hurried upstairs to work my poopie butt magic.
Mental picture: Me, eyes closed, palms up, laying flat, relaxed, breathing....ahhhhhh...then sudden pressure on my collarbone almost simultaneously accompanied by a puff of poopie diaper air shooting up my nostrils on an inhale. Eyes open, and there is a little stinky butt right in front of my face that rotates quickly and turns into a pair of happy little aquamarine eyes and a roughly placed sandcastle mold of Mount Rushmore right on my face and the word "pet-ty" (pretty).
Yes, that is my savasana-she made me laugh so hard (ok, a little painfully with that toy shoved into my nose). I kissed her little face all over, scooped her up, and hurried upstairs to work my poopie butt magic.
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