Breeders

I once saw a Facebook status update that said, "Stop breeding, you narcissists!"

At first I was pissed.  Then I started questioning myself, and it started a whole entire inner dialogue that I haven't expressed to until now.

I think it is natural and human (and our basic first instinct) to defend what is most familiar to us.  My initial reaction to be pissed was in defense to my situation, as a person who has chosen to be a mother twice.  I would guess that the person who posted the comment was in some way defending their position as someone who has chosen not to have children.

There is definitely a time in ones life that you either decide that you want to be a parent, or not.  Some people struggle with the decision more than others, feeling a sense of obligation to reproduce, but not feeling the internal desire.  Some people come into this world knowing that they will one day be parents, and in fact, they look forward to that time in their lives.

I find it very interesting that such a primal instinct isn't always universal.  I think it has become increasingly "popular" to not have children, and these days with the exponential population increase, countless children in foster care and orphanages, child abuse and neglect, poverty, and the overall state of our world, I applaud those who chose not to reproduce.  In fact, I've said many a time, "People should be required to have a license to have a kid."

But... for someone to claim that having children is narcissistic, certainly made this mother's blood boil.  I'll tell you why.  As a mom, you don't have the luxury of being narcissistic.  You are lucky if you can find 5 minutes in the day to comb your hair, take a shower, or have a cup of tea.  There is nothing more self sacrificing that having children, and there is also nothing else out there that makes you come to terms with your own selfishness, humanness, and potential to get out of your own way to give and receive love.

At six weeks pregnant with my first child, I spent a week at a Shambhala meditation retreat called "Dathun."  I had a hard time sitting still, and wrestled with my lack of self discipline.  During a one-on-one interview I had with my teacher, I expressed my frustrations with myself and I told him that I had previously taken my refuge vows (in the Buddhist tradition is an acknowledgment of the path you've chosen towards awakening), but that I wanted to take the next step (Bodhisattva vows) to deepen my commitment to the practice and the path.  As a Bodhisattva, you dedicate your life towards the service of others. When I expressed this to my teacher, he simply said, "You already have. By becoming a mother, you have taken your Bodhisattva vow."  This has always stuck with me and it helps me when I'm challenged by mother-hood and all of its stresses.  Linking my day to day life into my spiritual practice, has helped me start to peel back layers of the onion.  Sometimes I see parts of myself that didn't know were there, and I'm actually proud to be me!  It's like reassurance that I'm on the path towards becoming the person I've always hoped I would be.

I always knew that I wanted to be a mother, but it was never in the vain of wanting to reproduce, spread my seed, or have a clone.  It was always because I knew how much it would challenge me to actually grow up.

Kids when they won't eat.

When kids won't eat, its the worst.  You get up extra early to make them breakfast, you compromise "normal grocery store choices" for "kid friendly" choices, and you order specifically for them at restaurants.  If you're lucky, they eat one bite and they're on to the next thing.  Its one of the most madening things as a parent.  As I'm scraping food into the compost bucket, I'm think how much $$ was just wasted, and I'm completely annoyed because I'm anticipating a low blood sugar melt down in T-minus 30 minutes. Sometimes I wish that I had a mobile kitchen and a personal chef to just follow us around with the perfectly proportioned items that are sure to get gobbled up.  It just ain't gonna happen, though.  There is NOTHING more satisfying as hearing, "Oh, your daughter just ate everything on her plate," or "She's such a good eater," (which is a rare occasion.)

I've heard that kids have an internal "knowing" of what nutrients/minerals they need for their bodies, but I'm not sure I believe it.  My kids would be happy to live off pizza, french fries, and ice-cream, if I let them.  Sometimes I try to sneak the health food into the mix, by blending veggies into the sauce, or covering the veggies with cheese.  Sometimes I get lucky, but most of the time its a miss.  I'm not sure what the solution is.  I suppose if I just step back and look at them, I will see that they are perfectly healthy and happy kids, and maybe they really do have an intuition about what they need.  Atleast they LOVE seaweed.  SHEESH!

Leap of Faith

1/11/12

I recently took a huge leap of faith.  I quit my stable job as Operations Manager for a quickly growing, fast-serve restaurant chain.  I had worked for this company for 5 solid years, plus an additional 3 years on-and-off, prior to that.  I committed endless hours and 100% committed energy into the company, making it a top priority in my life.  At the same time, my husband has been developing himself into a very talented tattoo artist.  I worked to provide a stable foundation for our family as he spent his time learning, practicing, and eventually opening our a tattoo shop.   I would guess that this is a similar story to many young couples who decide that for the long haul, someone has to put their dreams on hold, in order for the other to fully persue theirs.  I would also guess that this is especially common for young couples with children.  The luxury of taking out loans or having time to study, is quickly vanished with the introduction of children into the equation.  Someone has to provide cold hard cash.  Life is expensive and someone has to make ends meet.

Like I said, though, I recently quit this job and took a huge leap of faith.  What I am leaping into, I have no idea!  The fears that have surfaced are evil demons that thrive on sequestering dreams.  Where do they come from?  I'm pretty sure that most of us spend the majority of our time placating these demons by working unsatisfactory jobs, sticking with familiar rountines, and generally not daring to leave our comfort zones.  They are nasty buggers, but I'm starting to find out that if you live in this fear, you lose the possibility and the ability to experience the highest highs and the lowest lows.  You mostly just coast right down the middle, living a life that is somehow not your own, but "safe."  

People keep asking me what I'm going to do.  In fact, I keep asking myself what I'm going to do.  I think most people want to know that I have the next step figured out.  That I have "a plan."  My ego wants me to know too, but the core of me knows "I ain't got a clue."  What I do know is that when I've found myself in a similar circumstance in the past, if I opened myself up, opportunities arose.  I'm not one to waller in the mud, no, I'm a busy body who has to stay busy to have a sense of self worth, satisfaction, accomplishment.  But, what I'm slowly learning as I get older, is that you can't force things.  You can't be someone other than who you are.  When the river is rough, you gotta go with the flow.  There is no point in fighting it and exhausting yourself into a limp fish.  Life is too short.   Life is a gift.  There are a milion other people out there who do amazing wonderful things, but there is only one you.  You are the only person who has the exact culmination of experiences that make you who you are.  And, that is a perfect thing to be because it sets you apart.  You have to tap into that and find the essence.  Find the thing that makes you you and makes you smile and follow its lead.

So, while I sit in this pot and stew, I'm going to keep making my children's books.  I'm going to write them, illustrate them, publish them, and I'm not going to worry that I'm not saving the world.  I'm not going to worry about the money in the bank.  I'm going to show my daughters that I'm doing what I love and therefor I'm happy.  I know in my gut that if I stick to that formula, it will pay off and I'll be sitting back drinking pina coladas on the beach before you can say, "EVIL DEMON BE GONE!"

why did the chicken cross the road?

I have always loved chickens.  This photo is by my friend Jen Haley.  She is a very dynamic artist specializing in mosaic, painting, and photography.  Check out her work at www.haleyarts.com

Be a hero...help a mom.

9/2/07

I spent the evening at a friends party, mostly following my one-year-old around, making sure she wasn’t getting into anything dangerous. I remember when I was pregnant and I would see other moms with children between the ages of 1-3 following their children around at parties. I thought to myself, “Oh that’ll never be me.” For some reason I thought I’d be exempt from those duties. Even during the first several months of my daughters life, I still thought that we were the exception to the rule. She slept so well, and was such an easy baby. I thought we’d cruise through parenthood without a glitch. Although she is still a relatively easy baby, and a total sweetheart, I have to come to terms with the fact that she is growing up. Her mind is developing, her skills are growing, and the world around her is her oyster. If its there, she’s into it. I am the facilitator, her protector, and we are each other’s teachers. Every day I am offered the opportunity to practice patients, self-sacrifice, and unconditional love. It’s not always easy, but it is rewarded. When she comes to Me when she needs comfort, when she lays her head on my shoulder with complete trust, or when she looks in my eyes and says “Mambap,” (Mama) it makes it all worth it.

It's still funny to me how people who don’t have children are pretty clueless about them. I have to suggest to all people who don’t have children, if you see a mom who looks like she needs help, or could use a break, offer a hand! Even 10 minutes of free time away from baby can make a woman’s day. Be a hero and take the baby for a walk. You might just have a moment, and connect with that divine presence.

Waitressing

9/2/07

As a waitress, you rely on the generosity and overall courtesy of other human beings as your mainstay. There is a lot of trust involved when you roll outta bed and make the decision to, once again, serve the human race. Sometimes you’re disappointed, hurt even at the sheer selfishness of people. There are some who seem to pray upon restaurants, looking to make a fuss to gain anything for free. It is the duty of the restaurant manager to make sure that every customer is satisfied, and by god, some of them know it and take advantage. “My food was cold, and the service was terrible.”

You get a pretty good idea of the human condition when you wait tables. My husband often says, “People should have to serve a minimum of 5 years in the military or wait tables for the same amount of time. That way we’d all appreciate service.” I think he is right, and the entitlement of people shocks me sometimes. It’s as if they think they’re the only ones in the world and they deserve YOUR undivided attention.

Yesterday I served two ladies, probably mother and daughter. Their bill totaled $12. Unfortunately they had to wait a half an hour for their “split plate” meal because the kitchen got slammed with 2 huge orders, plus the rest of the restaurant, before their order went in. I explained to them what was taking so long and continued to serve the other 6 tables in my section; continually checking their iced tea to make sure it was filled. I apologized again when their food finally arrived, and they accepted the apology and said, “No problem, thank you so much.” A split plate later, I had one arm stacked with dirty dished a black book full of orders to put in the computer, and hardly a spare minute. I dropped their bill and continued clearing tables. The older woman must of thought I didn’t have enough to do already, and couldn’t wait for me to make my next round, so she hastily got up and handed me her credit card. I wondered where she wanted me to put it. Needless to say, I got a definite 0 as a tip and later a meeting with the manager for my “neglectful” service.

I care about people. I studied early childhood education in college and before that I had planned on being a psychologist so that I could help people as a profession. So, I take it personally when people make insults at me. It haunts me in my dreams and in my conscious state. My husband does a great job of being my sounding board over and over again, bless his heart. He’ll always say to me, “You have to let it go.”

Sometimes I feel like there is no hope. I can’t figure out where to begin. If I can’t please someone with a meal, or make my family run smoothly, how can I begin to help the greater population? Michelle Obama, said in reference to Barak Obama’s ability to run as president, “If you can’t run your family and be a good father to your family, how can you expect to run your country.” I loved this quote because I believe that we have to start with our homes and our communities to begin to affect change in the world. But, I’m certainly not tooting my own horn. I am very guilty of losing my patients in my family. Spending half of my daughter’s naptime, trying to keep her asleep gets my blood boiling. Or reminding my husband to “Please put your laundry IN the basket, not NEXT to it!” It’s a daily struggle, and when the struggle is so daunting with the two people I love more than anything in this world, I surely don’t have answers about how to deal with the rest.

The Confusion

8/31/07

Sometimes the confusion is so loud it is deafening. This morning I woke up from a dream in which we had moved. I was searching for a school for my daughter to go to. I was walking through a small general store, where an overweight woman served sweet potato and marshmallow casserole. I asked her where the school was, but she had no helpful information for me. I managed to find a school, and as I walked through the hallways middle-school-aged children surrounded me. I came upon a room where there was a package waiting for me. I opened it and found that my aunt had sent me her hand-me-down pants and a couple of shirts for my daughter. I was a little bit upset by it because it seemed that she thought I was still very large. The pants had an extremely large buttocks area. I was happy to wake from this confusing and frustrating dream. Although I awoke to the sound of my alarm reminding me that my 10-minute snooze was up. It took me a moment to catch my breath because I had been sleeping sideways and on my side, to avoid the puddle of pee my daughter had marked earlier this morning.

The confusion comes from not knowing where to put my energy. It comes from having concerns for my children's well being above all other concerns. And mostly, it comes from a lot of self-doubt.

Step one: acknowledging.

8/30/07

Today I will ask God to show me what is next. After a year of being a stay-at-home mom, I’m ready to re-enter the world as a redefined woman. I’m just not sure about the what’s, where’s, how’s, or why’s. The span of change that has happened to me over the past 2 years is astronomical. My body has morphed from a young 22-year-old, 140 lb, perky breasted, slim figure, to a 200 lb pregnant woman with legs and feet that look like they’re about to pop and the varicose veins of a body builder. Now, a year after the birth I’m under my pre-pregnancy weight, but my breasts have been the sacrifice. One flops on my chest like a dead fish, and the other is usually much larger than the other. They droop, and like the stretch marks on my lower right tummy, thighs, and breasts, serve to constantly remind me of my role as “mama.”

The physical changes are only the beginning. The youth I was seems to be hiding within, waiting and hoping for a chance to sneak out, like a rebellious teenager. It wasn’t always this way, oh no. During the pregnancy, and for the first several months of motherhood, I exuded an uninterrupted calm. My role was unquestionable and understood. I was life giver, nurturer, and protector. The itch of independence has only recently snuck its way back into the spectrum of my experience, and I believe it is a parallel of my daughters growing abilities and individuation from me. We have been a unit, and now the unit is slowly dividing. I watch her exploring her world with curiosity that is unencumbered by past experience. There is a freshness that I can only dream of feeling again. Like the moment of birth. WOW, true awe! I will learn from her and try to see the world through the eyes of a child.

The idea to write this book came to me the other day when I was at a friend’s house. It was the four of us, three artists and my little girl. The discussion of my friend’s most recent works was hot and the dialogue consisted of wanting to understand where her paintings came from. “These paintings are mirrors of spirit, true feeling and total emotion, an expression of the 6th sense.” In the middle of the discussion I noticed my daughter squatting and grunting on the floor, a sure sign that “potty” is about to happen. I quickly scooped her up and attempted to make it to the tiny bathroom, which was non-equipped for the baby style poop process. It was a mini adventure, trying to catch the poopy in the potty, wiping her butt with only a few ply of toilet paper, interrupting the esoteric conversation and bringing it back to earth with “DO YOU HAVE ANY MORE TOILET PAPER??!!” That was the moment that I broke down and started laughing. The moment when I knew that my life as a young independent woman was never gonna be the same again. That I was forever changed with the blessing and duty of being responsible for another precious being. I could never fantasize about flying to NYC a young, single, gorgeous artist with the world at my fingertips. No, I’d have to leave that to my friends, and try to live vicariously through them, as they do me. I wouldn’t trade my situation for the world, but there is a fine balance that is being sought out. The balance of being a whole being at least 2 hours a day, or during nap time. The challenge of negotiating time. Organizing moments of silence, socialization with peers, and mama-baby time.