Mamahood:Through the Looking Glass

For me, the early days of motherhood felt a lot like I was little Alice Lindell waking up in a magical world full of oddities, games of logic, and self-discovery. Well, first it was like the falling through the tunnel with little end in sight. The newborn phase was overwhelming because it was the most uncharted and elusive aspect of motherhood. There was no way to really judge what was to come. However, the hardest part was looking at myself in the mirror. So much of the experience has been about rediscovering who I am now that I am 1+1, but also adapting to myself as a mother who is still the Jenn I was before-- which means the person with the same idiosyncrasies and issues.

I ask this question of myself and Addison all of the time.
(source)

Now, I have often used this quote as my own mantra in life, but it is the most fitting MOMtra I can think of: "It is very simple," she thought. "You get up, you go, you do, you see, you put one foot in front of the other and along the way you do your very best to enjoy it." (I have always attributed this to Carroll's text but I believe I have been misled--If anyone knows where this is originally from PLEASE let me know.)

This quote exemplifies how I live in the day-to-day, even when my best seems less than the standard I set for myself. If it's what I've got in that twenty-four hours, I eke it out. Robotic? Sometimes. 


Really this is just to say that no matter what happens in life, every day is a new start and needs to be lived the best way you can--for the moment. For each new start, I, like Alice, come equipped with my manners, my smile, and the curious nature that translates into the never-ending quest to learn and improve. 

While perusing lines from "...Through the Looking Glass" I found the MOST fitting for the way I felt after the initial hormones and exhaustion of new mamahood wore off and I looked inside a bit:

S.M.I.L.E.//L.7: Early Days Uniform

In case no one told you, there is a mom uniform that you will don in the early days, weeks, maybe months. For the first month of Addison's life I predominantly lived in: PAJAMAS. Since it was winter when she was born I often wore pajama sets with button down fronts (which were rarely buttoned since I was non-stop nursing!)

Exhibit A. There are no flattering pictures of me for the first two months
of Addison's life--or should I say, my full-time mom life.

At first I was down about the fact that I barely brushed my hair and lived in pj's (albeit some cute ones) for weeks--but I quickly understood one of my first mommy milestones: letting go of vanity for the tiniest of periods in order to enjoy making my life solely about a newborn. That time went by super fast, and there will be days that we spend in our pj's, but they won't ever be worn as proudly.

Exhibit B. New moms are a lot like rock stars: Messy hair. Up all night.
Little sleep. Dazed look in the eye. Hanging with cute babes. Oh yeah!

To add to this: If you are nursing, you will be half-naked all of the time in those early weeks. Who has time to keep putting on clothes when there is a baby at your booby for at least 12 out of the 24 hours you are granted in your day? I am not going to post those pictures, but those days happened too.

What a family is...

Is a family ever broken that was never together to begin with?

Addison @ 2 weeks old

When I decided to have Addison I knew that I would essentially be a single mother. I can’t say I fully accepted that fact and thus didn’t (and still don’t) puff up over the pride that some carry with that decision. Single parenting wasn’t a posh ideology for me; it was never part of the plan, but wasn’t enough for me to choose not to be a mother either. I WANTED motherhood, but moreover I wanted FAMILY. A big one. A loving one. I swore I would one day do it ‘RIGHT’—I would return to what I consider the nostalgic focus on the family unit, I would devote my life to being a partner and a ‘professional parent’. It was, and still IS my ultimate dream to have a warm, loving, stable family unit though I never had an example of one in my own life. It wouldn’t be enough to describe my family as a broken one unless we upped that definition to fit the nuances of the word. More appropriately mine was broken, reattached, broken some more, renovated, destroyed, reconstructed…mercurial mayhem and extensions of love.

Addison @ 2/12 months. First ZOO experience!

But what is family really? Is Addison part of a broken family or a piece-meal one? She has a mother, a father, plenty of aunts and uncles, four times the grandparents I had, and a built-in network of friends to grow up with. Yet, like a lot of modern families, there is a lack of unity or perhaps we unite simply for the love of her. Her day to day involves she and I. I spend twenty-four hours a day with her every day and love her more and more each hour. This is not to say it is always ‘easy’, but it IS joyful. It IS what I consider family because the love is constant, pure, undying, and secure. There is laughter, comfort, routine, SECURITY. There isn’t any ego clouding my vision—just the beauty that radiates from the smile of my daughter. To me, that is the definition of family. Not just ‘relations’ of some sort or other.

Addison @ 7 weeks.
 First visit to the Tibetan Museum and making an offering to the Buddha

To be clear, I am devoted to my bloodline as much as I know how to be. However, throughout adolescence all the way to my present near-thirty I have sought out extensions—other committed like-minded creatures to be part of a sangha. Sometimes family ‘obligations’ (I often consider it drama) kept me from developing in the way that I would have liked…but finally I have learned the true nature of family. So rather than going on a ‘woe-is-me-fest’ I will share a piece of liberation. Family is love, support, understanding, commitment. Family is not simply about genetics, marriage, history. Those things are important, but do not embody what it takes to have a successful family. Never let ‘family’ convince you that it’s okay to be abusive in any way because they are your blood. This is part of an ugly cycle and you can break it if you understand that you are being fed an illusion. Do not feel like you are less of a family because society says you are missing parts. I know I need to remind myself of these things quite often, but I am deeply aware that I have more love in my home (which consists of "only" myself and a baby), than was ever even imagined in the house of seven (plus dogs) I grew up in. My family extends to all of those who regularly share love and energy, who bring inspiration, joy, and show they are committed to being loving. 

Thank you to my sangha of people who love and support Addison and I, near and far, blood or not-- I am blessed to know you. Here is to growth and love and experiences to come!

S.M.I.L.E// L.1:You will lose hair

While you are pregnant those unpredictable hormone lovelies will do all sorts of wild things. One thing your body does is keep you from losing your daily dose of hairs. This will not occur to you outright because hormones will make you forget life before pregnancy until WHAM you realize you are YOU again, plus baby. Two separate beings. One is you, but not the person you remember...well not at first at least.

Time passes and you pick up on (or just pick up) many things. Like:

You will lose hair.

There's no use trying to save it!

Lots of it.

• It will remind you of the cats you had before baby was born (but less mysterious and surprisingly hypo-allergenic).
• You had forgotten how much hair one loses in a day and how said hairlings end up entangled in everything. 
• You had forgotten how dust bunnies are predominantly hair tumbleweeds looking for something to cling to.
• You will freak out at the hair massacre on your sheets.
• You will notice tendrils in your baby's hands, wrapped around little folds, in between fingers.
• If you are like me you will be vigilant about picking up pieces of your own hair because for some reason it freaks/skeeves (er, not a real word) you out to no avail especially when all over the bathtub. 
• If you are like me, you may have a mild case of OCD...or just the obsessive part. 

First Post, Pressure, Identity, and an Orange.

The hardest part about starting a new blog is deciding what to publish for the FIRST post. There is so much pressure behind firsts, that sometimes people (like myself naturally) avoid the potential at all costs. I find myself scribing in my mind and tossing ideas because nothing seems proper until the FIRST post is written. Questions mount: Who do I want to present myself as? Do I want to introduce myself first? Do I want a clever tagline? Do I want a perfectly designed page first? Do I have a clear idea or niche?  I hear one of my dearest writing professors (the prolific and influential Sarah Schulman) repeating rules I often break like: “Show, don’t tell” and I consider the magnitude of her body of work. Alas. Self-doubt mounts. The larger-than-wise Lao Tzu imparted: “A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step” but no one told me how steep that step might be.

In the past I started blogs with rambling posts avoiding the creation of an identity, sort of an in media res stream of consciousness that suited my need to tell stories and share, but gave no focus or tone to my blog (other than some Freudian web-trip). I am also hyper-aware of the itch to tell-all-at-once-right-now, and have learned ‘if you build it they will come’ is the approach to the blogging world as well. When I became pregnant (a story which will take many installments) I took a hiatus from my personal blog (in need of a revamp) and started to reconsider my blog identity. I became insecure. Was I worth listening to? Are the things I share defined by the number of hits my blog gets? Should I build my proverbial ‘field of dreams’ even though there are tons of others blogs in my so-called niche? I knew the direction I wanted to go in but lacked the impetus, energy, and largely the self-esteem. The main deterrent, as for most of us, was/is fear. I know one way I have dealt with fear is through the ‘power in numbers’ concept—if I have support, or others who have ‘been there’ with me, I have a greater shot at moving forward. Thus the reason I so often turn to blogs (and Google as a whole).

Many steps led me to this moment, many of which I am quite conscious of, but the most compelling for me has to be Leo Babauta’s post “How to Start”. I imagined his first post experience and the many baby steps he took along the way. Then I had a Proustian moment that turned into a zen state of awe. I was peeling an orange while my baby nursed, and I experienced the story of how I got to that present. A series of epiphanies immersed in a breath of consciousness. I mindfully ate my orange, took in the essence of my baby girl and said to myself: “Today I will start.” My story begins here: in the place I fill with the never-ending IT.

So there you have it. A first post. A self-reflective mama. An internet addict. A sharer. A relatively literate, meditative, sometimes verbose storyteller, life experiencer, and a slew of other things I hope to show you along the way!