Motherhood, Shakespeare And The Pitter Patter Of It All

Well, the first day of flaking came and went. Labor Day 2013. The first day I did not honor my commitment to this writing/posting daily in 30 minutes. By the time the busy day came to a close of sorts, it was 10:42pm. Was I going to find the energy to blog? No. (Then came the second day. I wrote this post yesterday and will finally post today.)

Right now, as I type this with my right thumb, Mr. P is napping on me on the boppy. His darling head is resting in the crook of my right elbow, where my bicep meets my forearm. His whole being is curled up into mine as his even warm breath brings me a kind of peace and abundance and ebullience I’ve never known to this extent. As if each breath is a puff of love-life-air into the deflated tire of my tired-mommy-psyche. With each burst of Mr. P air, I find the reserve to type this to you, one fumbling thumb-letter at a time.

Meanwhile, I’m giving the same kind of love-life-air to Mr. P. My heart beats slowly and rhythmically in my chest, causing his cuddle-nap-place to rise and fall in perfect symbiotic symmetry to his beats. I am thinking, now, of my first day of Shakespeare 101 way back in the other-life me at Bucknell. It was co-taught by one of the more conservative Shakespearean scholars on campus, and I believe in the field, too and by this radiant and brilliant in both brains and bright beauty Indian professor. As conservative as he was, she was as refreshingly liberal. Her voice was music to my sponge-learning-creative-peak ears. They started the first day of class with this lecture:
(This is etched in my mind for over 15 years, so please, don’t quote me)
Context: they were talking about the Shakespearean rhythm of iambic pentameter…
He:
And it beats rhythmically like the heart… Ba-buh-ba-buh-bu-buh. And it makes my heart beat to the rhythm of his words. Pitter patter, pitter patter…
She:
And the words and the rhythm to me are so powerful they make my heart stop.

This, to me, is the perfect description to motherhood. My baby and I with hearts beating pumping love and blood and air into each others spirits so much so it makes my heart go pitter patter most of the time AND at the exact same time when I’m so struck by the power of our lifeblood that then my heart stops in its tracks frozen in time and space so I can notice, really notice, the beauty of it all.

Except when I’m so frazzled that I can’t even notice any of this, which in these 11 months, is quite often.

I am grateful for this moment, away from places to be and people to see. Away from laundry and dishes and to do lists. I am grateful for this sleeping angel and this moment to share our love and life with you.

Good things, darlings.

Melissa

Day 26. (I debated, how do I number this when I skipped a day? And then I thought of fly lady: “you’re not behind, just jump in wherever you are” and Gemma saying “adelante, darling!”

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Cuddling It Out

A short and sweet post, brought to you live from the pitch black bedroom where the AC is pumping in this LA heatwave. Mr. P is cuddled up on my left side, just not wanting mommy to go away tonight. Each time I tried to creep away from putting him down in the crib, he’d wake up and cry. So tonight, I’m in bed early cuddling with Mr. P and bringing you what I have to offer in this moment, a glimpse into my mommy life where sometimes evenings don’t unfold exactly as we expected but you know what? It’s all good.

This pic is from earlier this week, Mr. P rocking his Bucknell t-shirt and helping with the laundry. He was also, incidentally, in the midst of trying to poop.

Good things, darling.

Melissa

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Day 23.

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Never Say Never: Wisdom From A Stroller Walk With My iPhone

Well hello my darling readers! Here I am reporting live from a stroller walk with Mr. P.

Selfie from our stroller walk this afternoon. Normally Mr. P loves a good selfie, but here he's distracted by Mommy, which, of course, I love.

I’ve told you in many of my posts that writing really help me process. You know what else really helps me process possibly even more? Walking. As I walk, I am holding up my iPhone into the air and dictating this to you. So far on this walk I have accomplished a lot: I made plans with a dear friend, I sent a couple texts that I have been meaning to send and I started this blog post.

When I was pregnant, I used to see moms walking their baby strollers while looking at their phone. I remember saying to Bob I will never do that. Now that I’m a mom I would like to tell my pregnant self a thing or two. Like, um, hey Meliss, never say never. You never know from looking at somebody what their intentions are or what their needs are or what their situation is at that moment. As I dictate this to my iPhone, Mr. P is happy as an 11-month-old-clam kicking his little feet and watching the world go by from the cozy shaded comfort of his stroller. If I do say so myself, I am pretty sure he’s enjoying the sound of my voice talking to you.

I used to look at those moms and think that they were totally “checking out” while in the care of their sweet little darling. Now, I realize, as a mom 11 months into motherhood, I’m not “checking out” by being on my phone right now. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. I am “checking in.” I check in with myself and the things I need to and want to do for “me” so I can be a good mama to Mr. P: like honoring my commitment to blog but being creative about it at this very moment. This “check in” is me gathering my thoughts, me making plans with a dear friend, me reaching out to family. And right now, as I dictate-write this, this is me having an aha moment courtesy of my ability to dictate into my iPhone while pushing my stroller WHILE I am getting my baby and I some much-needed fresh air and sunshine. And much appreciated exercise.

Here’s to me and my aha moment, my friends. Here’s to all the things I said I’d NEVER EVER do way back when when I was pregnant but now that I’m a mom on the front lines of motherhood all I can say to new mamas is these three little words: never say never.

Good things, darlings.

Melissa

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This post is day 19 of my 7 day commitment to fully write and post an entry from start to finish within thirty minutes, two sessions of 15 minutes each right in a row using my beloved Flylady timer.

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Going Home To Me

Here we go! Day 2 of my commitment. Amazing how momentum begins. Yesterday I took a step towards being in the now versus being in the past or the future. I took a big fat skinny-dip into the refreshing reserves of myself for 30 whole minutes. How delicious and liberating it was just to be absolutely wholeheartedly me in the truth of those moments. How easy it was to hit “PUBLISH” when I decided to just DO IT without hemming and hawing and what-iffing and umming and should i and what you think?

Amazingly, at the same time I committed to my new 7 day, 30 minutes a day writing practice, Mr. P took a commitment to a longer nap. He napped for two whole hours AND twenty five minutes on top of that. In mom time, that is like one gazillion years. In actuality, it flies by in a second. I digress…

I felt different all day yesterday. More relaxed, lighter, freer, easier, smoother. Mr. P’s monumental nap + my kickoff to my 30 minute a day writing/posting practice. I felt like I’d gone for a swim in the fountain of pre-baby youth and freedom and independence. All by letting my heart and mind submerge into the depths of me. How important to get to this level: to breathe so deep into the moment that we allow the pressing TO DOs and FIRES and CRISES wait while we reset our internal reservoir.

As I write this I am distracted and feeling like I am skimming the surface. I want to submerge but I’m listening to the sound machine white noise through the baby monitor and also the truck rumble rumbles on the very busy boulevard we live on. I hear the guy from Home Depot on our balcony that is installing the new screen door. I heart my heart beat-beating and my fingers type-typing the keys. I THINK this post kinda stinks but I FEEl so good to be writing I just charge on. Will I share it? Is there a point? Where are you headed, Meliss?

Aaaaah! There it is. I’m headed home. Home is a place within where I’m comfortable and rested regardless of where I am or what is going in. Home is opening the new screen door and letting some fresh air in. Home is taking the baby out for a walk in the fresh air even if there are a gazillion cars on the street in this busy Los Angeles life of ours. Home is turning the corner again and again and watching the traffic – the literal and thr figurative- subside – as we go deeper into the beautiful neighborhoods with tree-lined streets. Home, for Mr. P is Mommy’s arms where he can koala cuddle himself into total comfort and peace. He can rest his weary toes on my chin and nurse his little growing spirit to sleep, to health, to growth, to peace.

The timer is ticking and the drill is drilling. Time for me to find the selfie of Mr. P and I that I took just as he was falling asleep and wiggling his little toes into my chin on his way to sweet slumber. Who knows how long he will sleep today… but I do know that I have given myself the greatest gift that I can give myself which is time to go ‘home to my self‘ for a bit. And I feel so lucky that I can share it with you.

What is home for you? What do you do to reset? Where do you go? What do you do there? I would really love to know. Please tell me in the comments.

I thank you, so much, for being here and for reading this.

So much love and gratitude,

Melissa

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This post is part of my 7 day commitment to fully write and post an entry from start to finish within thirty minutes, two sessions of 15 minutes each right in a row using my beloved Flylady timer.

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Follow the journey on Facebook. 

Visit the Etsy shop.

View more of my paintings on my Flickr.