traveling without moving

Nursing is my meditation time.

When I was employed, as I nursed I worried about work or Z or designed changes to the garden or house. Last week, I noticed that the void of worrying about work was filled by new worries about the neighbors hearing Z cry, what my friends (with kids) thought of me as a parent, what my friends (without kids) thought of me as a person, etc. etc.

Not working allows me and Z to spend time with folks during the day - the mothers from nordstroms, other friends with kids. These interactions raise new concerns - the looks that I receive at the kiddie pool when Z wails about waking up in the stroller, the admonition about Z chewing on a piece of paper..."all those toxins." It also means that when we attend barbeques with friends who don't have kids, I don't seem to have anything to say. I'm definitely in transition and feeling a bit "blank." So...I've been thinking about these things when I nurse....thinking about how I think.

During a recent nap break, I listed all of the things that I don't like about myself and negative things that I say to myself when I'm out and about with others. When I finished, I laughed. "If this is the worst I can come up with...why am I so worried?" There are definitely things on that list that I wish weren't there, but for the most part, I'm a fairly decent and likeable human being - at least on paper. :)

I feel like a rock - steady and firm, but not very interesting to watch. Needing some moss to give me some color or fire to expose the diamond within. Love and forgiveness required.

"Project sleep" - two steps forward, one step back.

Z and I have established a daily routine, which is giving me more time during the day to write, plan, and work (around the house). He isn't waking as often during the night and doesn't always need to nurse to go back to sleep. I'm thankful for the progress. A couple days last week I was completely wacked from lack of sleep, but the last few nights have been good. Deciding to work on sleeping longer before making the move to the crib seems to help - maybe we were trying to do too much at once. Several folks have said to expect Z to return to old habits during our upcoming trip, that travel is likely to disrupt progress. We'll ease back this week and the following two weeks on the road, then see where we're at when we return.

But, I have to give myself credit - we've made lots of changes. He's eating 3 meals of solids per day. His two naps per day are at least an hour long, sometimes more. He's going to sleep for the night at a regular time and sleeping for at least 3 hours at a time, sometimes longer. He doesn't need to nurse back to sleep everytime he wakes and is getting better at soothing himself back to sleep. Our nighttime routine is fun and after two weeks, he seems to be anticipating it more each night. He's playing alone more during the day and he is on the move. It takes time.

I feel like a tree, each day sending roots a bit deeper, sprouting another leaf, sending out a new limb. Taking cues from the sun, air, earth, and water. Patience, consistency, and persistence required.

What happened to my sense of humor?

I think my sense of humor is hibernating. Perhaps it is the hot weather, or the lack of sleep, or all the worrying, but I've been rather serious. My funny voices emerge when reading stories and my imagination makes appearances via silly songs ("mmmm pears are good for you, they may make you poo, let's eat pears yum yum yum")...but otherwise, I feel like I'm weighing down conversations...not to the extent of Debbie Downer....maybe I'm expecting too much...maybe it's all part of figuring out who I am without my job.

I feel like a rose bush - a diseased limb has been removed and I'm storing energy to sprout a magnificent new bushy limb full of vibrant red roses. Patience and nurturing required.