one of the most difficult positions i find myself in when i am around d, is to let him be. and i mean let him just be.
wow, second post today! i did make a great comeback!
almost an hour has passed since i have last written (an hour? really? what?) and d is not awake yet. hooray! and this is coming from a 20 month toddler who recently started resisting naps, meaning no naps, meaning no time for me, none!
(but this was supposed to be the subject of the previous post)
-back to earth after a long pause-
i guess all moms know that time as you know it completely changes once you give birth:
1) time is no longer a straight line,
2) hours, minutes and seconds change depending on whether you are with child or without,
3) and, of course, time travel is possible.
i admit - and i think everybody should - that the numerous contradictions, tasks and responsibilities that motherhood brings to career oriented women’s lives is a complex issue. on one hand you have your precious career, maybe something you define yourself with and something that you do not want to miss on. on the other, you have your baby and all things above can also refer to that. and it’s incredibly difficult to have the two things at once. but does it really have to be like that?
so far, the way i understand motherhood is that it’s a state that exhibits neurotic symptoms. i have never in my life felt this much imbalanced, jerky, undecided, uncertain and *insert any other synonymous adjective*.
one day i wake up and start to slander what i totally praised the day before. today, the topic is co-sleeping: i regret the time when i first decided to co-sleep with d. there, i said it.
the same question again (see the confession in the previous post): are my parenting choices about my own well-being? do i fool myself into believing that they are the right choices for the baby when in fact all i am doing is to make myself feel better?
as much as i want to make the right choices for d’s well-being, i realize that most of my parenting decisions involve my own well-being, comfort and sanity. oh, well.
it is interesting, the ways in which life unfolds, that is. can this be a designed randomness? so many things surprise us, yet so many of them seem meant to be. a perfect system that balances itself on presence: an infinite number of imagined futures sprouting from this moment, which is also a single dot at the end of a single linear past. it looks something like this:
even though mothering is the most difficult thing i have ever done, i think i wanted to immerse myself in more pain by not asking any help from anyone. (i don’t know what the psychological explanation for this is - masochism? self-hatred? or just trying to be not like my mom who left me with a nanny from a very early age?)