Artifacts of ourselves
Posted on | September 18, 2005 | 8 Comments
On Friday, the minute after I posted, Bean woke up, still fussy, still with huge brontosaurus tears, inconsolable, needy. It was a long weekend. We’re adjusting to a possibly teething, much more active little guy, and it’s been a bit of a crash course.
The house is finally quite tonight. The first time all weekend I’ve had down time–away from Bean, DH or friends, who often stop by now that we live in a neighborhood of people who share, among other things, our passion for outdoor sports and good food.
I went for a run this evening with Bean, and felt myself gradually shifting back towards my center. Bean napped for my entire five mile run, despite the fact he’d cried hysterically when we tried to put him down to nap beforehand. And as I ran, feet thrumming against the uneven, slightly damp pavement, I got to thinking about how having a child makes you examine your own archeology, as it were.
I see myself in my son. He’s starting to be so purposeful in the ways in which he interacts with the world. He’s cognizant now of cause and effect, and has discovered that HE can affect the outcome of something. He is active, curious, and ready to laugh. Yet he is also stubborn and determined. Like me as a girl, when he gets wound up, crying hysterically, water sooths him. I wonder now, as he’s becoming an active participant in the world around him, what lessons I’m inadvertently teaching him, simply by being myself.
What do I affirm, or negate with my daily actions? My choice of words, the way DH and I interact, the places we go, taking Bean with us in the Bjorn or running stroller, how do these things all affect him? The tracks we make with our daily living, grow apparent in his big eyes, in his laughter, in his tears.
I once read an article by a mother who had wisely observed that her elementary aged daughter mimicked her patterns of speech and tone of voice. At the time I remember thinking how as a teacher I noticed this as well—my entire class of third graders would pick up certain mannerisms or idioms I frequently used. Like chameleons, children take on the color of their world.
I realize that my son watches me intently and often. He beams up at me when he sees me looking back, and then contentedly turns back to his toys. But he often stops to watch me adjust my hair, or sigh. He notices when I grow tense, and his body tenses too.
All this to say, after a long weekend of too much tenseness. Of fussiness and aggravation and short words, I realized something small, yet huge. I need to take space for myself regularly and often. I need moments of quiet, where I can paint Bean’s bath dinosaurs, or sip a glass of wine, eat some dark chocolate and finish my book.
It feels selfish and obtuse to insist on this time. Yet without it, I find my inner landscape feels shaken like a snow globe. I scatter myself carelessly, pounce easily. And Bean absorbs this, his whole being noticing these
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8 Responses to “Artifacts of ourselves”
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I am Christina Rosalie
Hello. I'm so happy you've stopped by!
I am a multimedia storyteller, digital strategist, idea starter, stalker of wonder, finder of four leaf clovers, MFA graduate student, and mama of boys. My first book,
will be published by SKIRT! Books in September, 2012.
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September 19th, 2005 @ 1:41 am
I truly agree with you! I had a few hours to myself yesterday to ‘get on’ with some sewing and it was pure bliss! Dh took Mia out to the park and the house was silent, it felt quite bizarre but extremely good. In about 6 weeks time i’ll have 2 children to run around after, but i’m planning to schedule some ME time, even if it’s only for a few hours a week. I hope you get more you time to get creative or lay in the tub with a book!
September 19th, 2005 @ 3:56 am
A woman I know calls this the “put on your own oxygen mask first” approach. Baby can’t be happy and healthy if mommy isn’t happy and healthy. Within reason, obviously – I can’t go overboard just doing whatever I want whenever I want just because it makes me happy, but truly a happy mom is a happy Small Boy. The challenge has been how to recharge as much in smaller blocks of time as I used to in much longer stretches. I’m actually contemplating waking up an hour before the Boy for a quiet contemplative hour in the morning. Me! Who loves sleep above all things!
September 19th, 2005 @ 4:10 am
great insight. of course you need some time for yourself, you even advised me to do so and told me that it was NOT SELFISH AT ALL.
September 19th, 2005 @ 8:44 am
It is not selfish. My son is six now and I still need that time for myself. My husband understand and readily lets me have a break too. We Moms have a rought job. By taking this time, your son doesn’t see a selfish mother…your son sees that you take care of yourself and that’s a very valuable lesson to teach him. One that I’m striving to do better at myself.
September 19th, 2005 @ 9:18 am
I like what swissmiss up there calls the “oxygen mask first” approach. I believe that, too, wholeheartedly, that a happy, healthy, fulfilled mom makes for happy, healthy, fulfilled children. Everyone needs downtime and alone time
September 19th, 2005 @ 6:05 pm
I was sitting among a bunch of moms at a playgroup once while we discussed this exact thing. I started to say, “if mama ain’t happy…” and the rest of the gals finished, “ain’t nobody happy!” It’s so true and such a hard lesson to learn. Motherhood teaches selflessness and yet teaches us that we must be selfish if we want to survive and raise half-way decent children. Freaking illogical world of mothering.
Hang in there, girl. It’ll get easier (and harder, but that’s part of the whole illogical thing).
September 21st, 2005 @ 12:24 am
“Like chameleons, children take on the color of their world.” I love that… so true.
I remember in those first few weeks of being a new mother I actually made a promise to myself that I would be a great mother and never be the kind of parent who needed a break. It took some time, but I finally realized that taking time for myself does make me a better parent.
October 15th, 2005 @ 7:38 pm
I have 7 kids and the “your oxygen mask first” approach is not just a good idea it is mandatory. If you have nothing left inside how can you give anything of yourself. I am 31 and my kids range from 20 to 2 years. (4 of them of stepchildren.) You need that time for yourself, even if it is 10 minutes a day!