aaaand...exhale.
Phew. We are just back from our annual trek East to my in-laws' indescribably delightful shared family retreat in East Boothbay, Maine. The Perch sits on the rocks facing southwest into the Atlantic;
the gulls cry, the water laps below and the flag snaps in the near constant ocean breeze. It is an ideal getaway in so many ways and much anticipated each year, (except the travel part.)
The girls loved all of it. Climbing on the rocks by the water, playing at the beach and playground, going into town for story hour at the library - they even met some friends this year: Sydney and Isla from San Diego - whose mom seems super cool (dare I hope for a new mom friend?!) Nana had the house stocked with toys, art supplies, puzzles, games and books to keep them occupied and entertained.
I read 3 plays and a novel, and even went on a walk/run almost every day (but I'm keeping that a secret
because I don't want any pressure or expectation with regard to getting fit and/or losing weight-ha!)
I've been saying for years that if any place could inspire me to get
out and run, Ocean Point would be it. Hard to beat that curvy stretch
of Shore Road for inspiration. If I get bothered by the thudding of my
feet on the pavement or the sound of my breathing, I look up and oh,
what's that? A lighthouse and sailboats! Blue sky, a few puffy clouds
and a divine breeze!
So, here I am, less than 48 hours after such a lovely time, and why do I
feel harried and burdened and chaotic? That trip is a total "reset
button" - I'm completely spoiled by incredible in-laws who are beyond
generous with their time and care of us.
I guess landing back home in my cluttered, dusty house with a giant pile of mail and a small mountain of laundry is pretty jarring after the tranquility of Ocean Point. And I'm not complaining. Not exactly. I just...
Motherhood is proving pretty darn taxing lately, even though my girls are my sun, moon and earth. Maybe
because they are my world is why it's so mentally and emotionally exhausting to be with them from morning until night. I am realizing that I hold some nebulous ideal of The Perfect Mom and am striving to be or become this elusive creature. I'm chasing a phantom.
I'm anxious (read: totally freaking out) about Sadie starting Kindergarten. That's a big one, I'll be honest. I know she will be completely fine and will likely blossom and we will get to watch her unique personality continue to emerge. But Oh. Em. Gee. I am worried for her little feelings, her little brain and her little psyche. School every day with twice as many classmates and half as many teachers as she's grown accustomed to is a big deal! It's a barrage of information and stimulation and and and... I just want to protect her which sounds beyond trite (not to mention totally bizarre, since I truly didn't see this coming in my own emotional landscape). I've actually choked up three times now to different friends while trying to describe how I'm feeling about it.
It's a new chapter for us and I guess I equate that with a fresh start for everything. I want our closets cleaned out, our office tidied and organized, and I want the girls to start sharing a room. I want to have a better handle on the contents of my pantry & refrigerator so that I can start cooking meals (that we'll all sit down together for, naturally) and preparing perfectly fun and nutritious sack lunches for my schoolgirl. Sound like a lot? Maybe. But I know there are tons of women out there doing this in their sleep, while vacuuming no less than twice a week, having conference calls with clients in Tokyo and running marathons.
Why do I care? Oh, that's because I have a nasty competitive/envious streak that runs pretty darn deep. It's a bear. I was telling one of my best friends on the phone this afternoon that I know for a fact that if she could tune in and hear the nonstop inner monologue in my head, she'd like to slap me sideways about 3 times a day at least.
What is
that about? The crazy talk in my head, not the best friend who would be all up in my face with some serious tough love if she didn't live 2000 miles away -
that I understand and am so grateful to have. I need to keep myself/be kept in check when it comes to The Big Picture because my tendency is to go straight to Overwhelmedville, and that does no good at all.
So, I need to dial it back a bit. Ease my grip. Lighten up. Right?
Sure.
It's a tall order. I look down at my two children and wonder how we got here so fast? How is my first baby about to turn 5 and start going to school every day? Can't I turn back the clock and rock her to sleep in my arms and hold her fingers while she learns to walk? Have I done enough to prepare her for this next step in her little life?
Where is that reset button?
