Lately I've been battling. struggling. grappling. with myself as a mama.
It started with hearing yelling outside... upon looking I saw a mother dragging/carrying/abandoning/chasing her screaming.crying.yelling son. At one point she yelled back at him "I can't believe you're acting like this - you're 6 years old!!"
I thought/wished he could have retorted "I can't believe you're acting like this.. you're my mom"!
Unfortunately the emotional yell-a-thon lasted down the entire street.
I shook my head.
I clucked my tongue.
I judged her unfit to mother.
So today I cringe at my ease with which I judge an other's ability to mother - when there are moments and days that I hope no one can see my cold heart.
Those times when I'm hungry. tired. frustrated.
When my daughter's whine seems soul-piercing.
Her energy like a frenzied stupor.
Her neediness too smothering...
How can someone you love so dearly...
Cause you thoughts of utter venom-spitting hostility?
My daughter doesn't deserve a hasty. cold. reactionary mama. I want to target these issues as I see them in my heart ... and address them while my daughter is (hopefully) too young to remember my sloppy learning curves.
I've come up with a few here:
Most days I wake up with a plan for the day (my agenda)
I tend to compartmentalize the day into sections of family time/ house care/ socializing, etc. On top of those I try to wedge in the 'me' time of crafting while daughter naps.
If one of these compartments starts to get crowded into by unforeseen events - I get hissy.
I need to be more flexible with how the agenda of my day unfolds.
Being an artist adds extra pressure to my weak points.
I still want to create.sew.paint like I did before being a mama.
It's not realistic.
It can make me resent the time my daughter/ or the dishes/ or the laundry etc all 'use up' of my day.
Every time I choose to create... another part of the home is left untended - and really, I'm then creating a mess!
I need to re-asses my priorities.
Our daughter is our most important work of art.
*She won't remember all the crazy things I've crafted for her - as much as the time spent with her.*
I know grown women who bereave the absence of their over-committed artist mothers... and I don't want to be one of those.
At the end of the day I gaze into these eyes as she says "snugg'oh me?" and I wonder why I got so caught up in so many things that day to distract me from this gift.
Motherhood is a calling to unselfishness.
I need to keep letting go of my agendas.my expectations.me.me.me.
Sure she can be inspired by a creative mama, I'm not going to lose that part.
I just want her to know her mama will gladly drop the paintbrush, or the needle and thread to spend one more moment holding her sweet hand in mine.
Our lives are a moment,
and will soon be past,
what really matters
is what will last...
... these young souls entrusted to our care.
That's my rant. my confession of a mama... and an artist.
I guess every day we're all still learning to 'grow up' a bit more.
P.S - the linking of this Small Style is simple - Azriel is wearing an OskKosh sleeper!