Women Who Fascinate Me

My eyes were bloodshot for the first two months after Josephine was born. I bought $20 eyedrops, the best. My eyes were still red. The little squiggly red veins were permanently etched, it seemed, for now. I started to get more sleep. I really did. I think there's just a tiredness a new mom can't escape.

It's the waking up at midnight because your boob is leaking and she needs to eat. Or, it's the waking up at 3am, even when she's not awake, but staring at her intently, wondering - will she wake up soon? Should I go back to sleep? Can I?

It's the times when she goes down for a nap, and I should too, but I don't because I am dying to check something off my to-do list or read a little or veg out to some mindless tv- something that feels like it's for me.

I was talking with my friend about motherhood yesterday and she mentioned the sheer amount of tv she watched breastfeeding her kids. It's true. I've had the best intentions: "I'll read a book. I'll type one-handed on my computer. I’ll be completely present with her." It's just so much easier to watch something.

It's hard to get a lot done in a day. That may be the most challenging part of motherhood for me. I used to take care of a to-do list like it was nobody's business. The thrill I get from checking off those bad boys is right up there with a deep tissue massage or a piece of German chocolate cake. And I can't do it anymore. I can't move at the speed I used to. I just can't.

My partner gets home from work and he asks, "How was your day? What did you do?" And, most of the time, I stare at him blankly, "Uh derrr, I know I did something." (oh yeah, I kept a tiny human alive) I bathed her. And rocked her. And fed her. And held her. And played with her. And soothed her. And pushed her in the stroller. And stared at her. And was about to check off something from my list when she started crying. That's what I did. That's what I should say. But the amount of energy being a mom consumes is not something easily explained. It's more of an alertness. A being on at all times, even if you're not "doing" anything. So I keep my mouth shut and my answer short. In reality, the only person I need to assure is myself - you are doing enough.

I've come to terms with the fact that I just won't be as efficient as I usually am for a while. I have way more to juggle these days. A little being who calls the shots. She’s what’s most important these days.

And I want to be present with her, but there is this other bubbling part of me, with thoughts and ideas spinning, and it's hard to feel like there's no place for them to go.

So today's message is for the busy mom. It's for the woman working hard to pay her bills wondering when she'll ever have time for that creative dream. It's for the one who feels like things just aren't panning out on her timeline, whether it be the relationship or the kids or the home she loves or the book or the career or the mission or the space to do whatever the hell she wants.

And the message is this:

There is time.

There is time.

There is time.

Time. Time. So much time. Months. And years. And luscious decades of it. 

There are so many incredible women out there who have tossed the timeline and proven that life for a woman does indeed continue after 40.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes published Women Who Run with the Wolves at 44. Sharon Blackie published If Women Rose Rooted at 55.

Vera Wang was a competitive figure skater before she worked in fashion for 15 years before she opened her own bridal boutique at 40.

Julia Child didn't learn to cook until she was 36. 

Viola Davis took small roles on TV before her career really took off playing opposite Meryl Streep at 43.

"I Love Lucy" aired when Lucille Ball was 40.

Giselle is having a baby with her new boyfriend at 44.

Hell, Martha Stewart went to jail in her sixties, made a come back roasting Justin Beiber at 74 and got featured on the cover of Sports Illustrated at 81.

I think that's what I love so much about women. We're like cats with nine lives. We shape shift, we pivot, and we do it gracefully, powerfully, remarkably.

I was listening to a podcast recently. The speaker was talking about how much our kids need us for the first three years of their lives. I mean, they need us for much longer than that, but they really need us in these first three years. The speaker was talking to new moms about how to balance career and motherhood and she said something along the lines of - don't take yourself out of your work completely. Keep your feet in. Keep your momentum going so you'll be ready to reenter with ease when the time is right. But, for the first three years of your child's life, do the bare minimum you need to do or, rather, the maximum you can do while still being present for your child. She assured the audience there is time. Plenty more of it. When the kids head off to school and then college and then their own lives. So, really engage with this chapter, if you can. I know that's not always possible and I am not trying to add more expectations or guilt to a mom's plate (there's already enough of that), but it spoke to me. It reassured and quieted the part that's afraid of running out of time. Afraid she won't get to do it all. Afraid it will be too late. 

But, that's all just fear talking. And lack of perspective. Lack of faith. Lack of looking at the big picture.

Because we have nine lives. And this is just the season I'm in. And there is time for it. There is time to enjoy it.