slow no wake
Another winter storm on Friday. Drove home behind the plow. The woodpeckers and dark-eyed juncos were eating from the suet before the snow started. Then another storm. But the days are getting longer. The air and the snow feel damp; the birds are making noise; signs of early spring.
Hello friends,
I hope you’ve been staying warm and holding your loved ones close.
The first winter with a baby has felt—fast and slow, busy and quiet, isolating and full, big and small. It’s been a super cold winter for much of it, and that plus letting the wee one play on her mat and develop skills (day by day!) has kept us indoors a lot. When I come out of my bedroom after the baby and I wake up to set up for the day and see sun pouring in the windows that’s a major win.
I can feel my brain and body continue to change, continue to rewire for complete attunement to this small individual, her needs, our bond, our family. Focusing on other things is a bit like forcing a crank to move the other way; it takes effort and is disorienting. At the same time, part of my mind is constantly aware of other things—of all the things! I’ve always been someone who both hyperfocuses and is constantly scanning and thinking three (or many more) steps ahead, and the way that has translated into an ever-growing capacity—both automatically and with WORK—to take care of my baby, myself, and my family is interesting—and tough and beautiful.
It’s been a winter of intense busyness and also rest—in all the forms, whenever possible. Seeing the pale winter sunset—white, lavender, grey blue—out of the back window when starting a nap with the baby. Creativity also brewing and overflowing, looking for vessels. Parenting takes so much and also creates so much. I think of those fountains that pour from one basin into another into another, before drawing the water up to start the cycle again.
I can think of few things as definitionally “bittersweet” as seeing a little one growing up as you are raising them. I recognize I’m only several months in, but the feeling is palpable. Every new sound and movement and shade of personality is delightful, a joy and awesome privilege to be present for, and also there’s a feeling of grief, mourning what’s already passed. Everyone talks about how “it goes so fast.” And it does. Sometimes she changes by the day, even by the hour. It feels so rapid—but there are also moments that feel slow; these might be heavy or difficult, or they might be so full of joy they are literally overflowing. For better or worse, we are stuck in it like a crumb in honey.
When she was a tiny newborn feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago. . . .
a working list
Being a mom is being a
Protector
Nurturer
Problem solver
Soother
Home base
Friendly face
Play mate
Partner
Leader
Bed
Chef
Documentarian/scribe/recorder
Artist
Friend
Novice
Expert
Trailblazer
Observer
Athlete
Administrator
Healer
Source of nourishment
Detective/investigator
Nervous system regulator
Multitasker
Companion
Giver
Holder
If you haven’t yet, subscribe to this newsletter to support my writing—and share!
i could drink a case of you and i would still be on my feet
Previous newsletters
As I’m preparing to post this issue, we have just changed the clocks and we’ve had crazy warm weather. The birds are sounding in honor of it. Is spring really here? It may be a good time to revisit last year’s early spring post.
It is certainly not lost on me that the state of the world is frightening and dark. It’s both impossible not to think about when taking care of a small baby all day every day and really hard to think about—and I don’t mean because it’s distressing (though it is) but rather that it’s literally hard to think about. It’s hard to metabolize, fully, because my whole brain and body, as I touched on above, are focused on this little life. Parenting amid breakdown is a whole separate topic that perhaps I’ll be able to get into one day; in the meantime suffice it to say that part of my attention is repeatedly being drawn to the bleak trajectory of a sociopathic overculture and political system in overdrive. Not for nothing, the importance of remembering that Love is an act of resistance never diminishes. Sometimes it can feel like the thinnest and strongest thread to hold on to.
Thanks for reading!
Please like, share, and subscribe if you haven’t yet.
Till next time,
♡ ETP