Thursday, December 15

15 december

P69

it feels like windows and doors are being thrown open and fresh air is blowing in, changing everything. I am smiling all the time.

Wednesday, December 14

Tuesday, December 13

Friday, December 9

seize the instant: a partial list

One thing a mama's life lacks is time. Time to do this, to do that, time to oneself, time to breathe--there just isn't any of it, it seems. But if looked at closely, the fabric of a mama's day has these little pockets of free time tucked away here and there. Maybe it's naptime; maybe it's baby-and-daddy time. Maybe it's those two or five or ten minutes during which baby is engrossed in an activity, or bouncing in the exersaucer (affectionately dubbed the "circle of neglect" by a friend.) If the expression carpe diem had been coined by a mother, it wouldn't be seize the day so much as seize the instant. The free pockets of time in a mama's day are almost always unpredictable, both as to when they'll happen and how long they'll last. A gal has to be ready for them.

I was always astounded, in the first weeks of my son's life, how I became a marvel of productivity whenever someone would relieve me of baby duty. I would zip and zip this way and that, getting a bunch of stuff done with sleek efficiency, and still get time in for a hot shower and a mini yoga practice. In her wonderful book What Mothers Do Especially When It Looks Like Nothing, Naomi Stadlen suggests that this is because we spent so much time feeding, rocking, holding our precious bundles, and that these activities afford us the luxury of almost endless daydreaming of what we'll do when we finally have a minute to ourselves. Time becomes such a precious commodity when you have so little of it, and a mama's focus sharpens to razor-sharp precision in order to answer this most pressing question: What is most needed right now?  How best can I use these three, five, fifteen minutes of freedom to cultivate health, well-being and sanity for myself, and help restore some order and happiness in our family home and life? We likely all have our own lists, our go-to tasks, habits and practices that are given first priority when we are handed a blessed minute, or ten. Here is a partial list of some of mine:

::Sit:: Except on the most miserable of sleep-deprived days, the first thing I do when my son goes down for his morning nap is park my butt on the cushion for a ten to fifteen minute meditation. I don't know what kind of mother or wife I would be without this practice; I don't want to think about it. It's as necessary to me as water. Here is why you should meditate; here is how.

::Breathe:: Take a deep breath in. Feel the air fill the lungs, feel the belly soften. Notice the pause between inhale and exhale. Feel the breath fully exit the lungs; feel the shoulders relax. Don't you feel better? Lather rinse repeat.

::Make tea:: It's a long-standing joke in my marriage that I like having tea more than I like drinking it. So what? The ritual of making tea itself is so pleasant and soothing. Sometimes it's all that's needed--the making of the tea alone can be nourishment enough. I have a coaster that reads When there is tea, there is hope. So very true.

::Eat something::  I cannot function when I am hungry--it's always been true, but never more so than since I have been a mother. Between the hormones, the nursing, and the stress of caring for a very small person, no matter how cute or adorable he might be, I walk around like a loaded gun, and hunger is what pulls the trigger. My go-to snacks are smoothies, peanut butter toast, cottage cheese with pineapple and maple syrup, bowl of cereal. I strive for a healthy balance of protein, carbs and fiber. But I have been known to eat half a bar of dark chocolate, or fistfuls of smoked turkey slices. No judgement.

::Go outside:: Number two on my list of things that are guaranteed to lift my mood--and that of my son--is to go outside. It's not number one because we live in Texas, and half the year (this year, anyway) it's blistering hot out, which makes the enjoyment of the outdoors mighty difficult. But most days all I need is to venture out on the porch, and maybe walk out under the big oak trees that dot our property. Just being out of doors and gazing up at the sky can be all the refreshment necessary. Extra bonus points if there is soft grass in which to sink my toes.

::Play some music:: Number one on my list of things that are guaranteed to lift my mood is to play some music. Preferably loud music that makes me want to bust a move. Current favorites include Arcade Fire, Foster The People, Matt & Kim, The Avett Brothers, Florence + The Machine, and Phoenix. And, of course, there is always Madonna.

Tuesday, December 6

the practice of motherhood

This is one of my favorite words: practice.


Not practice in the sense of practice makes perfect. Not like practicing scales, practicing lines, practicing as the rehearsal before a final performance that is to come.


But practice as a set of habits, rituals, commitments that one engages is regularly. Practice as something sustaining, supporting comforting. Like my yoga practice, my meditation practice.

In the world of yoga, in which I have been firmly rooted for the last five years, having a practice is something very positive and personal. As teachers and studio support staff, we talk of helping students develop and maintain their personal practice, we talk of our own practice as the ground for our work, as something changing and evolving and ever alive, ever present.

My practice is my refuge, my home base, my safe place. It is where I go to resource and recharge, to stretch or sweat out the kinks of daily life, to iron out my nerves, my spine, my breath so that I'm ready for the next round.

Here are some more facts about my yoga & meditation practice: it will never be over. It is ongoing, and the point is not to get it right, to do it perfectly (or even to do it well!). The point is to engage with it, to hold it up against the needs and challenges of my daily life and to make adjustments, amendments, so that what I do on the mat or on the cushion (literal or metaphorical) both reflects and supports my daily reality. There is no making perfect. There is just showing up, breathing, moving.

It occurs to me that I would do well to approach motherhood as a practice more often. Much of what I do in my days as a mama is to try to figure out what is the right way to do things. Specifically when it comes to my son's sleep issues (rather, his lack of sleep, or inability or unwillingness to stay asleep), it feels as though there is a magic answer up in the sky, a perfect method of soothing and cooing and leaving-be that will deliver perfect nights of sleep for my family, and that my job is to stare, squint and try to decipher it. At this, I have failed every day. In the long laundry list of things I feel clueless at, here is a random sampling: feeding, playing, signing, napping, dressing (it's cold out--what's a baby to wear?) For each of these, the first assumption is that there is a right way to do things. The second assumption is that I do not know what that is

Here is some relief: there is no final performance for motherhood. There is no test. That means there will be no applause and no gold star, but it also means there will be no judging, no failing grade. There is no perfect. There is just showing up. Every day, whether it's with my son, or on my mat, there is only one question: What is needed right now? And to this, there is only one answer: Love. From there, the particulars of the day flow more or less with ease. What is needed is a hat, a hug, a tickle; a deep breath, a rest, a spinal twist.





What is the practice of motherhood?

Show up.


Observe what is.


Act with love.




Over and over and over again.







Monday, December 5

5 december

P470

Consumed today: peppermint bark, peppermint hot chocolate, Candy Cane Lane tea, Green & Black Mint dark chocolate. 'Tis the season.N

Thursday, December 1

1 december

P460

things are always better when I slow down to his rhythm, get down to his level.