Tuesday, January 12, 2010


Currently, many things about me are in hibernation:

- My naturally blonde hair (which turned much darker while pregnant and is now waiting for the sun to lighten it back up),
- My pre-pregnancy (hell, for that matter, my pre-pre pregnancy) body (which is taking forEVER to return... die, you women who re-morph to a size-freaking-four in two months, or the ones whose nursing just burned that old fat right off in no time),
- My can-do attitude (lately I've felt like I CAN'T have it all. Why would Oprah lie to me?),
- My education (as proven in everything I've just written in crazy Southern-woman speak),
- My writing and/or creativity "muse."

Surely, this hibernation will be like that of a bear's: fruitful and restoring. Right? 'Cause something's gotta give. Writing with a baby on your lap trying to gleefully slap every key, or said baby nearby, crying/laughing/babbling with multiple toys going off at once, just isn't going to cut it.

I find something incredible in every season, and winter is no exception. I love the cold, crisp air--the chance to see breath materialize before my face, proof I am a creation, alive in this world--the way the light is incandescent and unflinching, the bare branches of trees, the blue sky. I find it a time even more important than Spring: a chance to cozy up, talk, drink wine (not that I actually need it to be winter to do that), melt into home, regroup with old friends, write letters, and--internally, at least--a time in which to make anew myself, to make promises to myself and to reevaluate my life in a way that speaks more of renovation than resolution.

In addition to being the most humbling experience of my life, new motherhood, and the attempt to be a creative writer alongside it, is teaching me that though life is short, it's essential to sometimes slow oneself. To accept the moment the way it is, and to be in that moment. "Wherever you are, be there." This is a new challenge for me, because I'm always looking ahead, dreaming of better and of more. But I want to truly live in my life. So we'll see.

1 comment:

Rachael M. said...

I don't know how those women who do all the stuff do it.

I think I have a malfunction.

I only manage to get anything done when Ben is home and takes full control of parenthood. And then I feel guilty, because she misses me. And I've missed a whole day of her life.

How can I do it? How can I do what I want when it requires me to be fully attentive to two places at once???

If you figure it out, please let me in on the secret.