I am sorta not looking forward to school starting in 3 weeks.
No, I have not been hacked.
It is really me writing this.
As much as I look forward to only having one child with me during the week when N heads into 4th grade and G starts kindergarten in August, as much as I will be glad to have a whopping 5 whole hours a week all to myself in September when M begins pre-school, I have also lately felt unsteady from time slipping out from under my feet. I sense the dull ache of longing in the pit of my stomach because this stage of my life, though difficult and exhausting with my two little guys, is nearing its end.
While I am in creative and mental need for this stage to pass, it saddens me too. How can I be so ready for something and feel my heart clinging to it, wishing to delay it just.a.little.bit.longer? How can the idea of my challenging child going off to all-day school feel freeing and heart-wrenching simultaneously?
It never ceases to astound me, the swing of emotions in this parenting thing. The fulcrum of motherhood sits sound as I run along the lever, endlessly back and forth, trying to figure out "What exactly am I feeling?"
Perhaps it is because I so much enjoyed our family vacation from last week--disconnecting from the online world and tv news and all the things I need to get done at home and in my head. Coloring with the boys and watching N ride the waves on her boogie board and seeing all of them play in the sand and sucking up everything that is good and fun and wonderful about being a mother to these children. I was carpe diem(ing) all over the place last week, which sounds messy but was so desperately needed to restore my faith that I am probably doing ok by these kids and that they are doing ok by me.
My melancholic, misanthropic, haggard momma thing, which seems like a schtick but isn't (which makes it funny to friends and tiring for me) makes it difficult for me to feel the wonderment of mothering with any regularity. The return to the ocean felt like a baptism, a window allowing my soul to fly into the breeze, challenging sandpipers on their whirling paths, seeing my children from a vantage point I don't often enough get to experience.
And now, land-locked again, I am still riding a wave but also feeling the sandy grit at my toes, the reality of what is challenging and hard and grounding, the acknowledgment that this, too, is passing.
No, I have not been hacked.
It is really me writing this.
As much as I look forward to only having one child with me during the week when N heads into 4th grade and G starts kindergarten in August, as much as I will be glad to have a whopping 5 whole hours a week all to myself in September when M begins pre-school, I have also lately felt unsteady from time slipping out from under my feet. I sense the dull ache of longing in the pit of my stomach because this stage of my life, though difficult and exhausting with my two little guys, is nearing its end.
While I am in creative and mental need for this stage to pass, it saddens me too. How can I be so ready for something and feel my heart clinging to it, wishing to delay it just.a.little.bit.longer? How can the idea of my challenging child going off to all-day school feel freeing and heart-wrenching simultaneously?
It never ceases to astound me, the swing of emotions in this parenting thing. The fulcrum of motherhood sits sound as I run along the lever, endlessly back and forth, trying to figure out "What exactly am I feeling?"
Perhaps it is because I so much enjoyed our family vacation from last week--disconnecting from the online world and tv news and all the things I need to get done at home and in my head. Coloring with the boys and watching N ride the waves on her boogie board and seeing all of them play in the sand and sucking up everything that is good and fun and wonderful about being a mother to these children. I was carpe diem(ing) all over the place last week, which sounds messy but was so desperately needed to restore my faith that I am probably doing ok by these kids and that they are doing ok by me.
My melancholic, misanthropic, haggard momma thing, which seems like a schtick but isn't (which makes it funny to friends and tiring for me) makes it difficult for me to feel the wonderment of mothering with any regularity. The return to the ocean felt like a baptism, a window allowing my soul to fly into the breeze, challenging sandpipers on their whirling paths, seeing my children from a vantage point I don't often enough get to experience.
And now, land-locked again, I am still riding a wave but also feeling the sandy grit at my toes, the reality of what is challenging and hard and grounding, the acknowledgment that this, too, is passing.
1 comment:
So glad that you had a nice time on vacation and glad that you were able to really enjoy it with the kids. I am sort of in the same boat as you are. While I am enjoying my summer, I am also longing for the routine of the school year. Mixed bag.
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