Was I lying when I wrote about not apologizing for my dreams? Because I haven’t been doing much to further those dreams lately. I have been composing only in my head. At night. Long after everyone else in the house is asleep. Or I have been jotting down notes on a legal pad between trips to the kitchen to do a dish, get a snack, refill a juice cup. But I have not been here. Here. At the computer, the porthole to the blog, at night, after the kids are asleep. I have not. Instead I have been with my Sweetie. Where I like to be. Where I need to be.
But. Then. There is this. All of these thoughts. At night. Later and later until it is early and the kids wake up. There is this. Writing that needs to be written. Ideas. That need to get out of my head. To make room for the rest building up in there like snow drifts against the door, creeping higher and higher until they are visible through the peephole. Until there is nothing to do but bust open the door and get covered in snow.
Motherhood is defining. It has changed the way I operate in the world. The way I see the world. The way I think about the world. And the way I try to make sense of the world. Most important, becoming a mother has irrevocably changed my place in the world. My very reason for being here. I have arrived.
And I am grateful. Because along the way I found a way to write again. A way to write and endless “material” to write from. I didn’t think I could write “essays.” Like this one. Or poems? Like this one. I didn’t think I’d be a “blogger.” In all honesty I’m not 100 percent comfortable with the term. But I have found–if not a definition for what it is I do–a way to write, to think about writing, and an appreciative, supportive, understanding community who also challenges me. A community of readers who are also writers. In the past there were fiction writing groups that met every other week. And there was the MFA. Gone unfinished for now. But now there is a community in this blogging world. And while I haven’t abandoned my fiction, for now this is where I need to be. Where I can be. Where the time and patience that I have available to me can form a complete idea. A “post” can be written start to finish in one sitting (more or less). It is not the scope of the novel that I know I will return to, but it is more than I had hoped for. And yet I don’t know how to really belong.
I struggle with the grips of dependency. And with the urge to run to a place that is quiet. I struggle with all that I want to do and all that I need to do. And I’m fairly certain this isn’t going to change any time soon, if ever. I struggle with embracing myself the mother and finding time for myself, me. It is an ongoing process of growth and change, this business of parenting and family wellness. For now I will try to focus on doing as much as I can for everyone, including myself–including continuing to write. I don’t have a lot of time. But I wasn’t lying. I’ll be here when I can. And when I’m not, I’ll be mothering, snuggling with my Sweetie and, occasionally, jumping in the snow drifts.
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I so understand what you are saying, Jenn, about the writing and this being good and doable and about the family time. Enjoy both!
I read this last night, and have been thinking about it ever since. It’s the balance that’s so difficult, and hard to come by.
And the dependency. Oh the dependency… from little hands to words trying to rip across the page… the importance of both, but the priorities.
I hear you , lady, loud and clear.
I know a lot of us struggle with this. I feel like I’m doing too much and yet doing nothing well. Torturous.
Yes, yes, yes … I think the challenge is to let go and have what we can do – what we can do with writing, with feeling, with every day – be enough right now. This is all we have, this right now, and when it’s gone we’ll miss it even if we have more time for the stuff we so ache to do more of now.
Right?
At least that’s what I tell myself.
xo
Jen, I have been thinking so much about your post from a few weeks back when you encouraged all of us to unplug and to tune in to the life happening in front of our eyes – and so I am very glad for this follow-up. I agree with you, and with the other commenters, that it is about balance, and doing what seems right, and trying to do something (one thing at least) correctly every once in awhile. I also think it is about forgiveness, allowing imperfection, going with feeling.
I will look forward to reading more of your words in the new year.
Thank you so much for such a beautiful and validating post. I find so much solace in knowing there is someone out there feeling exactly what I am, able to articulate it in such a succinct way. I often feel that due to working out side the home and having 3 small children, I do everything at 60% and it’s hard. Really hard. But it just is the way it has to be right now. And you get out of bed every day and do the best you can. ‘Cause that’s all you can do, really. Anyway, happy new year and thanks again for remind me how powerful words can be. ~Melissa
Jen, I so know how you feel. I feel, so often, that I’ve completely abandoned my dreams of becoming a “real writer” simply due to the lack of time. Motherhood…it is all encompassing. Even when you have a partner who does half, if not more, of the load. Even when you work “reasonable” hours as a teacher. No matter what. It is so much EFFORT. I just turned 37. Not a big deal, but definitely on the other side, closer to 40. 40. When will I finally make it happen? When will I stop making excuses? When will I be able to say I gave it my All? I don’t know, but…blogging has helped. I do feel like I have an outlet. And I feel like I have a place to go be inspired, by other writers, by other women, by other people having the same experiences, or completely different ones. All of us sharing. I, too, am still not 100% comfortable with the term: blogger. I am a blogger. I blog. What is that, exactly? I still thinks it sounds (ahem) hokie. Hokie. But it doesn’t FEEL hokie. And so, I try to ignore the way the term makes me shift uncomfortably in my chair, and I post. And I read.
I am in awe of this post.
Because I dream of being a mom but in my heart of hearts know I will not ever know the depths of motherhood until I get there, in my own time.
Balance is so hard to maintain sometimes, no?
I too have so much writing that wants to be written, and at the same time so much parenting, loving and working that also wants full expression that it seems that something is always falling behind or left undone. I find comfort and solace in what you, and your readers say here… seeking community, expression, right balance, lives well lived, Selves more fully expressed. I have found a strange sort of freedom in blogging, not so self-conscious as “fiction” as we’ve been raised to write and read it, and yet great lubrication for the fiction that gestates within us. At forty-nine I feel like I am only just beginning to find a voice, to figure out what it is I’ve been meaning to say ever since pencil worked so clumsy over paper, so much slower than the words in my heart, back when I was a small child.
Here’s to a rich year of reading each other and writing for each other… and all our kids too. Namaste