Motherhood

How not to lose your mind raising children

/ Naomi Wittlin / Leave a comment

All of a sudden, there’s space. Glorious empty space for breathing and relaxing into, like a large soft chair with a chenille blanket and a cup of chamomile tea offering cozy reflection time. I’m not sure what prompted the shift in perspective, for that’s exactly what it is… A different way of processing pretty much exactly the same circumstances.
Sweet girl still needs me as much (dare I say “more than”?) as always, asking for my time and attention and dreading separations, but I don’t mind anymore.
I seem to have acquired the ability to distance myself from the emotion that is this three and a half year old spinning ball of energy and moods, yet still observing and responding as need requires, like before. Is this the observer mind that my mindfulness books speak of? I wonder only because I dont feel detached or distant… I love her more fiercely and completely today than yesterday, if that’s possible. All of a sudden, I appreciate who she is in and of herself and love watching her grow and change.
There are some circumstances that prompt an ironic wink or a conspiratorial chuckle from deep within. I can’t seem to find the familiar feelings of frustration and anger when my daughter changes her mind yet again, as she often does. I see myself as part of a motherhood chain that goes back through time. Surely i am the same prehistoric mother who had to run back into the cave for her child’s forgotten security object (perhaps a spoon? A leaf? I don’t know… Were kids allowed childhoods back then or were they put right to work?)
I’ve tried for all these days to get beyond my limitation of exasperation and that sense that too much is being taken from me( time, energy, physical space) with not nearly enough left for myself or anyone else.
When I would carry a magazine article around all day but not getting even a few minutes to read it, or wanting a lazy day when I didn’t have to entertain another person with craft projects, snacks and meals, fun outings or educational teachings.
Sure, I still want those things. But all of a sudden, I see this little person as transient, growing up all too soon and off to live her own life away from me. I have heard from enough empty nesters to realize that the gift of witnessing a childhood should not be wished away. So I am noticing and reveling in all of it … The irrational outbursts, the prideful accomplishments, the firsts and seconds and even the mundane thirds, with a sense of humor and perspective. About time!

I don’t have to solve her “problems” or heal her wounds. She simply needs me to be there. My presence, my attention, my enfolding arms are the most important right now.

6 months of books: 6 categories

/ Naomi Wittlin / 9 Comments

Oh how I love lists! Inspired by Bellezza of Dolce Bellezza, a beautiful book blog, (here is her 6/6 post), here are some lists about my reading from the first half of this year:

Six books I read most recently:

Six books I enjoyed the most:

Six books that led me into the past:

Six books that led me far away from home:

Six books I started in the first six months of the year and am still reading in July:

Six parenting books:

Inner Excavate-along: I gather and I see me

/ Naomi Wittlin / 8 Comments

On to Chapters 3 and 4 of Liz Lamoreux’s Inner Excavation: Exploring Your Self Through Photography, Poetry and Mixed Media.  Liz is leading a couple hundred of her friends through seven weeks of inner excavation on Flickr, on her blog, and through subscribed posts.  I’ve met some wonderful new friends already through this process and am enjoying seeing how they progress through the prompts.

In chapter 3 (“I gather…”), Liz prompts us to look at what we gather to ourselves and what we are drawn to repeatedly that fills the world we inhabit, gaining insight into who we are and who we want to be.  She asks “who are you?” “what inspires you?” and “how do you nurture yourself?” She is pushing us to “find clues and claim the truths within our thoughts that become tangible on paper.”

I chose to work on the writing exploration segment of this chapter, answering these questions “in poem” about the images and textures of my world right now.

I enjoyed a rare few minutes of quiet when my daughter fell asleep in the car last week.  When we got to our destination, I picked up a scrap piece of paper (yes, my car is a mess!) and jotted this down…

Having looked into our past in Chapter 2, Chapter 4 (“I See Me”) is about where we currently “stand in our lives.” I had fun with a photography series that literally captured my path… my feet and the ground beneath me, “playing with the idea of being rooted in the moment.”

I will be starting a self-portraiture class soon (“Now You“), which is not at all about the photos but more about how we see our authentic selves, and I am nervous.  It’s very difficult for me to be comfortable in front of the camera.  Liz reminds us here that we are in control of how we see our own beauty.  “Give yourself permission to let go of [the assumptions you might have about what photos of our bodies have to look like.”

In the poetry section, we “delve deeper into what the body says, how the body feels, what the body knows.”  It’s a way of looking at ourselves in a different light.

Here are links to previous chapter posts: “I begin” and “I seek.”

Inner Excavate-along: I seek

/ Naomi Wittlin / 16 Comments

On to Chapter 2 of Liz Lamoreux’s Inner Excavation: Exploring Your Self Through Photography, Poetry and Mixed Media.

Liz is leading a couple hundred of her friends through seven weeks of inner excavation on Flickr, on her blog, and through subscribed posts.

Chapter 2 is titled “I Seek…” She prompts us to seek clues from the past: where do we come from? Where are we? Where are we going? Liz writes that “through the senses, we can tiptoe into memories and suddenly find ourselves unearthing aspects of a moment we never thought we would remember.”

As I get older (and wiser?), I am more interested in the stories of those who came before me.  Looking through some old photo albums for pictures of me to compare my young face to the almost-identical face of my daughter (uncanny really!), I was reminded of time spent with my father’s parents.  When I worked on this prompt a year ago, I wrote this post about exploring the senses, this post about noticing the here and now, and this post about memories of my grandmother.

Here I have some photos from her wedding album and some words that this prompt inspired (click on each thumbnail if you’d like to be swept into the 1940s):

Sense memories

She is a woman of soft linens, long nightgowns, and decorum, her thin body of sharp bones draped with beautiful fabrics and jewelry.  She thinks nothing of playing on the floor with her grandchildren… spreading out couch cushions to jump on or cards for Go Fish.

I sit in the front seat of her long Buick, spacious and velvety, as she drives me to Marshalls for what feels to me like a shopping spree from heaven.  She knows what looks good and what is proper.

She tends to her garden, walking on the long path or stepping stones, pointing out elephant ears and naming flowers, picking mint for my tongue.  I love to follow, marveling at the tree leaves that fold at my touch.

She has a countertop filled with glass jars of licorice, mints, and candies, a drawer of spearmint gum and always a bowl of mixed nuts with nut crackers placed nearby.  A hall closet is full of shoes, velvet bags with delicate clasps, and blankets, all smelling like her.

Her nightstand is small, the glass top holding pictures in place forever.  Every morning, this is where she paints her features, a magnifying mirror reflecting back her soft skin.  She is not dressed until her lipstick is in place.

She reads the newspaper every morning at the white wicker glass-top kitchen table, a porcelain cop of coffee and her gold-sequined cigarette case not far from reach.  She passes on a biography by Camella Sedat that I still have.  I now have her favorite book, The Little Prince, describing a love and loneliness that she must have known.

I remember there was always a freezer full of food and rice unlike any other, a Sephardic blend of flavors.  “People come from miles around” to this kitchen.  Vanessa, the cat, slinks nearby… young in her 17 years.

I was treasured there, with my grandparents.  I remember the scents of perfumes, soaps, lipstick, and mint.  She gave me gifts of bath beads and silky nightgowns.  Presents for everyone, even though it was a birthday for one, our names written with elaborate curves.

I imagine her youth and young adulthood.  My grandfather’s courtship.  Raising four children while her husband worked so hard.  Happy times and lots of smiles.  By my childhood, they were separate… my grandfather in a cave of radio stories and books of Jewish folklore and Talmud; my grandmother in her cozy bed with the TV news blaring and books all around her.

A memory comes forth unbidden… That last Passover seder with her, near the end of the night when most people had stopped following along and she and I volleyed responsive readings from the Hagaddah.  I feel my eyes fill with tears just as they did then, remembering the love she poured into my childhood and how much I will miss her when she’s gone.

How much of my memory is true? Were she here now, I would ask her about her early days living on the farm, what her parents were like and how she met my granddaddy.   How did she get through her days ironing and cooking, working in the hosiery shop, writing and being active in the community? What was her driving philosophy? What were her disappointments? I would love to put my sweet daughter on her lap and let her paint her nails as she did mine so long ago, or decorate her in beads and purses and shoes, creating a new generation of memories.

In case you missed last week’s post, “I begin,” here it is.

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Inner Excavate-along: I begin

/ Naomi Wittlin / 5 Comments

The only book I took to Italy last summer was Liz Lamoreux’s Inner Excavation: Exploring Your Self Through Photography, Poetry and Mixed Media, along with a journal.  I enjoyed sitting with the first two chapters and being taken in a few different directions with them, first writing some poetry, then making lists of favorite words, and really looking at the world around me.  It wasn’t nearly enough time and so when I read that Liz decided to work through her own book again and invited people to come along with her, I thought it’d be fun.

Liz is leading a couple hundred of her friends through seven weeks of inner excavation on Flickr, on her blog, and through subscribed posts.  I certainly don’t have time for this, so I’m getting ok with the fact that I can’t watch her videos, probably won’t post anything for others to read (besides here), and I won’t be completing nearly all the assignments.  Ok then.  Let’s begin!

Actually, Chapter 1 is titled “I Begin…” I decided to accept Liz’s invitation to really look at what you see in your world on an ordinary day and document scenes from this one day (Saturday, June 16) in photographs.  If life is truly in the details, then why not tell the story of a day?

I’ve always loved looking back at the little things from years ago… what shampoo I used to use or how the carpet looked where we used to live.  These old photos tell stories and bring to life all sorts of memories.  So why not create them purposefully? Today I am looking around me as if seeing the present from the future.

I just received my pre-ordered copy of Tracey Clark’s Elevate the Everyday: A Photographic Guide to Picturing Motherhood and I opened it right to this quotation:

“The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life and elevating them to an art.” ~ William Morris

How fitting.  Tracey writes about seeing your life for the magic that it is.  Well, here’s a little ordinary magic…

Time keeps on changing

/ Naomi Wittlin / 1 Comment

One of you dear friends told me about this awesome (and free) e-course, Changing Time, about managing our relationship to time.   It consists of an “ongoing flow of innovative tools, techniques and ideas to create a new relationship with time,” moving away from the “defaults” of anxiety/stress/worry/complaints about time that are so pervasive in our society.  “You can finally move past the limiting views of time that have held you back from fully embracing the wild beautiful truth: time is not a defined line; it is instead a vibrant, completely moldable, layered, multi-faceted work of art that is in your artistic hands to create and design, each and every day.”

Who knew?! The Day 1 Time Expansion Moment asked:

1. When you think about time, what is the first thing that comes to mind? 
 
2. What is your deepest wish, regarding time? 
 
3. What is your biggest challenge, regarding time? 
 
4. If you suddenly never had to worry about time, how might your life be different?

I’m  thinking about these questions today.  How would YOU answer them?

My answers: 1. Either a clock or my constant companion to-do list.  2. That I would stop racing against it.  3. I have trouble stopping and just being, letting time tick past me but not accomplishing anything tangible.  There are so many things I want to do, friends I want to see, etc.  4. I would not need to search for a clock/watch every 3 minutes.  I’d be more leisurely about just about everything.  I would feel comfortable just knowing that however I fill my day would be meaningful.

This is a problem of my current situation as a SAHM.  If I had more time for myself, I don’t think I’d feel this way about time.  Some days, I’m wanting time to move faster so I can put my daughter to bed and have some time for myself.  When she was an infant and took her little (damn you, Mommy.  I refuse to sleep longer!) 30-minute naps, I’d race around the house like a madwoman trying to send e-mails, put in some laundry, use the bathroom, take a shower, and get the mail before she woke again.  I think that’s when the craziness began of me trying to escape her… and time itself.

My birthday through my daughter’s eyes

/ Naomi Wittlin / 6 Comments

“To the world you might be one person, but to one person you might be the world.” ~ Anonymous

“When all your desires are distilled
You will cast just two votes
To love more
And be happy.” ~ Hafiz

My daughter was overflowing with vibrant energy about life in general, but specifically about my birthday.  Since May 1, she has wanted to count down the number of days until the end of the month.  I cannot think what I could even liken it to…

M O M M Y to her is absolutely everything.  To celebrate Mommy for a day — well, “yes,” she practically vibrates, “let’s definitely do that!”

I got sand cakes, plastic cupcakes, serenades of all sorts of songs, a million soft embraces and sweet kisses, and endless smiles.  And that was by 8am!

My “official” interview of her:

How old am I going to be? Eleven twelve

How do you know? Daddy told me and then I member, k?

What should we do to celebrate? We’re going to get out our cupcakes for your birthday

Are you going to sing Happy Birthday to me? How about we sing Happy Birthday to everyone in the family?

* * *

Do you get personalized Notes From the Universe? It’s free and fun! Here’s what mine said for my birthday.  I felt SO GOOD reading it!

A few years back, not so long ago, heaven and earth erupted into a major celebration with the news of your impending adventure into this very time and space. You see, someone like Naomi Wittlin doesn’t come along all that often. In fact, there’s never been a single one like you, nor is there ever ANY possibility that another will come again. You’re an Angel among us. Someone, whose eyes see what no others will EVER see, whose ears hear what no others will EVER hear, and whose perspective and feelings will NEVER, ever be duplicated. Without YOU, the Universe, and ALL THAT IS, would be sadly less than it is. 

Quite simply: 

You’re the kind of person, Naomi,
Who’s hard to forget,
A one-in-a-million
To the people you’ve met.
Your friends are as varied
As the places you go,
And they all want to tell you
In case you don’t know:
That you make a big difference
In the lives that you touch,
By taking so little
And giving so much!

Naomi, you are so AWESOME! For your birthday, friends and angels from every corner of the Universe, including buddies you didn’t know you had, will be with you to wish you the HAPPIEST of days and an exciting new year in time and space. You won’t be alone! 

My mindset = my child’s behavior

/ Naomi Wittlin / 8 Comments
(I wrote this post a few weeks ago and unintentionally hit “publish,” so some of you have already read it.  My apologies! I am happy to report that things are much better now… three nights in a row of my daughter sleeping in her own room and some time for myself have really helped.)

We’ve had a bit of a babysitter crisis at our house the past month or two.  I know that I operate as a much more patient and loving mommy when I’ve had a couple hours every day to catch up on my e-mail, edit photos, and read a book or some blog posts for awhile.  I had become accustomed to having that time but all of a sudden I have gone without it. Our favorite babysitter has been super busy (and I hear about it every day… “how many days until Ms. C comes over?”) and my daughter just didn’t mesh with another one that we had been using frequently.  Add to that a busy and traveling hubby and the fact that my daughter has been sleeping with me (another story entirely!) and I’ve had very little time apart from her to refill my well of self-care and quiet.

We have been outside quite a bit in the backyard or the park, we’ve been at friends’ houses, or we’ve been playing “store” or “house” all the freakin’ time.  I’ve said quite often, “just give me a few minutes to sit… go play by yourself.” I asked her last night as we were falling asleep and she inched closer and closer to me, “Am I really so great that you need to be with me every second of the day?” I guess so.

Coincidentally, we have noticed some testing behavior lately… deliberate defiant behavior after being instructed to stop doing something.  Putting paint on the wall; rubbing lipstick on my pants… anything just to get some attention.

It is said that “what you resist persists.” So I am asking myself how I am contributing to this.  Is she reacting to something I am doing? Could I be more present in my interaction with her? The paint on the wall… she was asking me to paint with her and I was trying to do something else (after a morning of already not getting my attention due to having friends over).  The lipstick… she’d just spent time at the park playing with daddy with me mostly talking to a friend separate from her, even though she wanted to play with me; and more of the same.

When I find reserves of patience and energy and am focused on her, my daughter’s behavior is stellar.  She is sweet, generous, and cooperative.  This past month’s change in behavior is probably due to my exhaustion and my attempt to separate from her before she is ready.  She is asking for my attention and care and I am shifting away.  This behavior is how she expresses her need.

So the basic question: how can I get through this phase, take care of my need for time alone, AND give her what she needs? I am trying to surrender to her needs for now, while still protecting myself by getting sleep at night and maximizing the alone time I do have.  I have changed my mental script: rather than be a drudge, I tell myself that we are lucky to play together all day like we do.  I am going to stop believing that something needs to be fixed and just accept it and see what happens.  I am trying to stop focusing on when I can get a break and start focusing on simply being in the moment.

I have also been applying the advice of giving her my undivided attention for a half hour or so and then watching as she goes off to play alone, her tank full after just that short time.  I get to decide if I am going to be worn out or delighted and I will choose delighted.

What can reasonably be accomplished in 2.5 hours?

/ Naomi Wittlin / 7 Comments

Every other morning when I am walking out of preschool after dropping my daughter in her classroom, I have a little lift in my step.  It’s practically a skip.  After the morning routine and the rush of getting out the door (difficult no matter how much I pre-plan), I’m already exhausted.  I am very protective of my free time.  2.5 hours is a big chuck of time, right?

Here’s what’s on my to-do list today (way too much for one little morning): answer e-mails, pay bills, edit pictures, vacuum out crumbs/food from car, post items to sell on mom forum, return clothes via mail order, sort through coupons for after-school Target run, finish Friday’s blog post, put away morning/evening clutter, make bed, move laundry to drier, feed kitties, scoop the litter boxes, fix sprinkler schedule, renew library books online, buy a baby gift for hubby’s coworker, check Mint and categorize expenses from last two weeks, order pictures for a scrapbook page for a friend.  Oh… and RELAX.  Ha! I’d like to get a mani/pedi but that takes at least an hour and I can’t sacrifice that time today.  I know I won’t accomplish all these things and yet my list will be just as long in two days when I have another break.

This doesn’t include the things I can accomplish with my daughter, like scheduling a haircut (haven’t had one since August!), watering plants and buying flowers for the front beds and unloading the dishwasher-type stuff (anything non-computer).  Pathetic, isn’t it??? Someday it’ll be better.  I’ll actually be able to visit with friends and while away a morning just reading.

I was telling a friend, who is moving, that I still don’t have my house organized and she asked why I didn’t unpack it the way I wanted it 6 months ago.  I can only laugh.  I literally don’t have a spare moment.  My hubby says I don’t use this free time correctly to get the most benefit from it, but if I did spend the time relaxing, the house would literally fall apart.  We have been known to literally run out of clean undies and be charged fees for late bill payments when I’m on one of my “I’m going to change this” kicks.  I’ve also been asked recently from a friend (sans kiddos) what it is I do all day.  It’s amazing how you can fill an entire three years with errands and cleaning up toys and getting snacks/meals/drinks, music class, play dates, birthday presents, school fundraisers, and trying to figure out our HSA plan!

Dude, I was an event planner! I coordinated many executives’ schedules! Surely I can find a way to clean the kitty throw up off the floor before it sits there for days on end.  (OK, so I covered it with a paper towel! Who has time?!) Or get to the grocery store… or return library books on time.

It feels like my heartbeat is constantly at a high pace.  And I am always behind, trying to do too much.  Some famous person said “stress is trying to do two things at once” and it is so true.  But the bathrooms need toilet paper and the cats need food and still my daughter needs ME.  It seems that I’m always saying to her, “one second… just need to… and then I’m coming.”

This is why about once a month I completely collapse in a heap of tears and exhaustion and my husband thinks I need to be committed. (ha!) I just lose patience when it all catches up to me and my daughter is whiney and demanding and we have nothing for dinner because I didn’t plan ahead and there’s no hope in sight for her sleeping in her own room and I haven’t had a few hours alone with my husband in months now, let alone time for myself, and I am just done.  Luckily just about every mother I know has days like this too so I know I’m not alone.  And I am happy, yes I am.  I’m smiling and laughing most days.

Now back to that to-do list…

Does it seem to you that your days are rush rush RUSH too?

Kids make terrible pets

/ Naomi Wittlin / 1 Comment

I saw this at a bookstore recently and laughed out loud.

Happy belated Mother’s (you’re doing the most amazing work on the planet) Day to you all.  I wanted to pass along the two articles below.  They might just be especially useful to you if two nights ago you stomped from the room after spending two hours trying to get your little girl to go to sleep, enduring wiggles and excuses and stating things like, “This is your last chance,” and then you started screaming, “I just can’t take it anymore!!!” scaring two kitties and one bewildered husband trying to watch a movie.  Just in case.

OK that was me.  I’ve been having a rough go of it lately and even tried returning my daughter at the customer service counter of Target.  Just kidding.  Sort of.

Meagan Francis on looking for the positive parts of motherhood: “Being a good mom means… you’re able to roll with the punches and move on from the difficult days feeling satisfied with your life.”

25 Self-care Tips for the Body & Soul: “Stop trying to wade upstream at high tide.” “Breathe deep.” “You are enough.”

“You are changing the world, one child at a time.  I know that what you do often seems invisible.  I know that your child has no idea how much sacrifice is required.  I know that you don’t get the recognition you deserve.  But every act of love makes the world a better place and has a ripple effect.  
 
“Devotion, as parents know, is walking the floor at 2am holding a screaming baby with an ear infection. Devotion is taking a deep breath and re-centering yourself when any reasonable person would scream.  Devotion is forcing yourself into the kitchen to make your kids dinner after a long day, when all you really want is to curl up on the couch and go to sleep.  Devotion is biting your tongue so often you get a piercing. Devotion is taking off your jacket on a freezing night to tuck it around a sleeping child in the back seat of the car.  The pay, however, makes everything worth it.  Mothers get paid in pure love.” ~ Dr. Laura Markham