As mentioned in some entry that I wrote at some point, on some day, some few weeks ago...
I'd like to blog more...
so here goes. I've never been good at keeping blog promises, so who knows how long I'll continue to update on a "regular" basis, but for now this is keeping me sane and looking forward to something that is mine--all mine, so ya...
if you've been following my writing...., especially pieces done in the last, I don't know, 6 months (yippeeeeee...thank you!!)
Anyway, you might have noticed there is a common elated, but somewhat frustrated bewilderment of "oh my god, I didn't realize THIS is how it was going to be..."
Some days, I feel like I've been kicked to my knees. Every once in awhile, I feel like I should be the winner at the made up "mother of the century" pageantry in my mind. (Trust me, I've practiced my winning wave, and rehearsed my acceptance speech on my amazing abilities to do a diaper change WHILE keeping my little one smiling the entire time)
But the one steady constant I've felt during my few highs and many lows is something kind of new to me...I've been humbled.
Ive always been a kinda sassy Judgmental-Judy type person. My vantage point always seems to be from above, effortlessly gazing down on the world--and it's not something I'm really proud of (anymore.)
i don't know where I got this chip on my shoulder, but these recent months of constantly being beaten down by minute-to-minute on the job training, has me feeling lower than low.
Nowadays, instead of looking down to see what the rest of the world is doing, I'm squinting my eyes and straining my neck trying to see what's taking place in the world that is resting on the top floor of a skyscraper towering over me.
All of the advice I used to give new first time moms and parents of multiple children (while I myself was single without children) now all seems like ludicrous trash. And when I think of my former pretentious art-teacher-self relentlessly berating parents about how they should be doing art with their children, and how "i know you're busy, but it's really not that hard to do..." makes me kind of want to vomit and throw a mini tantrum at how lame I was to everyone. Because seriously, at least right now in my life, looking at a paint brush is equivalent to being knee-deep in the Freddy Kruger Nightmare on Elm street pt.1 (the scariest one in my opinion)
Like, I seriously can't even fathom pushing paint out of a tube right now. And ya, I hear you "well, no one is expecting you to paint portraits while breastfeeding a 3month old"
duh, I know that...
but I guess, putting that "mom of the century" sash with the winners crown really isn't so make believe to me ...and wanting to be on the top of the mountain verses feeling like I'm swimming in the gutter is a lot more appealing to me than I thought...
but the reality that is hitting me over and over in the face like an endless game of paddleball is that, it's just not gonna happen right now--and that all of my unrealistic expectations are just that, unrealistic.
I'm no better (and possibly never have been) than the lady with the 5'oclock shadow holding her screaming child's hand trying to balance everything in her purse/shopping cart/life standing next to me in line at Foodland
and maybe once I can fully swallow that pill and let it digest without sticking my finger down my throat to try and up-chuck that fact--I'll finally be alright.
This is me and my new humbled self.
Love it? Ya, Me too.
Anyway, that leads me to my next section (yay for transitions)
My Grass is the Same Color as your Grass..
There is some type of misconception that since I'm a stay at home mom somehow my life is SO much easier than the working mom's/woman's life.
Well, let me break it down like this:
1) my life is awesome. I got exactly what I asked for since I was like 10yrs old.
ive always said, if I have kids (which I never thought I would) that i wanted to be a stay at home wife/mom. Maybe other women are willing to burn their bras to be a hardcore working mom, but I'll sew a bra to stay home and take care of the kids.
I am so very thankful that I fell in love and married a man that treats me wonderfully and gives me a very secure life, which allows me to live out my manifestation.
+*Of course eventually, Im going to have to start working again...I mean, we live in Hawaii, and not middle America--and mama's got bills to pay ....but we'll cross that bridge when we get there**
Anyway, with that said, this is also no walk in the park... i don't have parents or extended family that i can lean on to watch Yume anytime I want to "take a break."
i dont get to drive in a car blasting music without a baby in the car seat behind me, I don't have other adults to interact with for 6+ hours a day, There is no point in getting dressed nicely or putting make-up on, which in my world-- if you know me at all--is pretty big heartbreaking fucking deal.
I'm the only person who can watch Yume. I don't have other options. My mom is sick, and my mother in law is elderly, my sister is busy working, my sister in law is out of state, and my husband works anywhere from 6-10 hours on any given day...
so it really is JUST me. Although we live a comfortable lifestyle, it could easily get very uncomfortable to try and afford crazy tuition to send Yume to germ infested daycare where she'll probably get sick on a weekly basis.
So seriously, it's cheaper and far safer to have me to stay at home with Yume. Which *viola* is what we are doing.
I could easily say that being a single mom with healthy parents who are willing to watch baby while mommy goes to work, or wants to have a night out to drink, has it waaaaaaaaay easier than I...
But, in my recent growth spurt of maturity, I've also come to realize that my Grass is the same color as your Grass. What's brown in my garden may be green in yours, but the area of your garden which is allllllll unkept and nasty, is nice, and lush in mine.
So there is my tired, somewhat bitter rant for 2017. Hopefully it's my first and last.
Now....Finally, to the last section which will kinda contradict most of this blog, :)
Making an Effort