Apr
28
There are a thousand and twelve things I keep meaning to do like paint my toenails go to the post office vacuum out my car but everything takes time and even though it often feels like I have it in spades the hours are actually slippery and ever-moving and there’s never enough in one day. Even the most glacial periods are tricky in that I grit my way through them thinking god is it bedtime yet then scramble because they’re gone.
I feel frantically busy but stationary all at the same time and I crave the feeling of movement. My day is filled with duty and tedium and enjoyment and laughter but no forward momentum: a hamster on a wheel. I turn on DVDs and jump around the living room to banish the sensation of paralyzed limbs, of feet that fell asleep despite the long road beneath them.
My boys are like something enormous and spectacular mined from the depths of the earth, faceted and painfully glorious, heavy and burdensome. This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. This is so hard to carry. We hold them high and march through the days, bearing that which we love beyond all measure. My arms tremble.
I am so much more capable than I have ever been. I am weak and filled with shortcomings. I am a flexing muscle, aching under an indescribable, joyous weight.
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This was beautifully written Sundry.
I can tell you, as a mom of a 16 year old and a 13 year old , that the feelings you describe don’t go away, they just change. Someone once described motherhood as watching your heart walking around outside of you. I always thought that was an accurate description.
Tammy
That was beautiful
This is the closest anyone’s come to describing motherhood to me in a way I can understand. Amazing!
Well said, my friend.
YIKES, that is throat-closingly awesome. It’s hard to choose a “favorite part” from something like this, but the part that briefly stopped me from breathing was “This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. This is so hard to carry.”
That was beautiful.
Oh, motherhood. The longest days and the shortest years.
That was really lovely. And oh so true.
Thank you for penning that. It’s what I could never find the words to say when my husband asks me, “You slept a lot last night; why are you so tired?”
*sigh* great description! Beautiful!
BTW, jealous over the gorgeous weather in your last post as it’s freakin’ SNOWING here in WI!
That was awesome. I enjoy reading your blog because you are honest. Motherhood isn’t always great. I think right after Dylan was born you said something like “this baby isn’t always easy to love” (or something…). And I loved it. You seem to voice what others are afraid of. It seems like we always want to tell people the happy stuff. The other day my neighbor and I were talking about our girls (mine is 7, her’s 5) and how stubborn they are (read: Pain in the ass!). She said to me “Sometimes I want to hurt her.” Instead of recoiling in horror, I wanted to hug her. Because I’ve had the same thought, and was too horrified to tell anyone. So, thanks for being an honest voice. :)
Your honesty inspires me.
I’ve been a reader here for awhile now (we have boys the same age) but seldom comment. Mostly I just never have much of anything outstanding to say and since you have plenty of comments everyday, most of which cover pretty much exactly what I would have said, I just read, laugh, smile and nod silently along your blogging adventures. :)
I do want to say something today though. I just wanted to thank you for putting this into words the way you did today. I’ve loved reading as you’ve adjusted to having two children… So many of the feelings I remember from two and a half years ago, when I added my second one, have been expressed so well in your journaling. It was amazing and relieving to read/go through that all again with you and I would find myself saying at almost every post; “wow! she really gets me! there’s someone else who thought all the exact same thoughts i did the second time around”
And today you did it as well. Love, love, loved your description of being a mom. I was writing about this same sort of thing this past week on my blog, though not nearly as concise and eloquently as you. And I hope you don’t mind but I linked and quoted part of what you wrote today as an addendum to my post.
I’m thankful for your honestly and for your ability to voice so much of what I think so many of us feel. Just thought you should know.
This was a pleasure to read. I really look up to you a lot.
Your writing is nothing short of a gift. To have your words be powerful enough to make perfect strangers laugh and cry, sometimes in the same paragraph – just, thank you.
Lovely, as usual. =)
Amen.
Beautiful–it’s stuff like that that makes me wonder why you don’t have a book out yet.
Thank you for this. It sums up exactly how I have been feeling. Our boys are about the same age (my oldest turned three in December and I had the same due date as you, but our youngest came in January). I am struggling so much with trying to balance being a mom, a wife, a worker bee and just plain-old me. It’s helpful to share this thrilling, scary ride with someone else, even if it’s just through this little black box.
That was beautifully said and precisely on target. I love your gut-wrenching, brutal honesty.
Magnificent :).
Dude. Deep.
I like that you can write these honest, heartfelt, loving words and then you can talk about boner rise and smoking pole and dumb dog leg humping. You are totally the best of both worlds- in the immortal words of Usher, “A lady on the street and a freak in the bed.” I am not saying you are a freak in the bed- I mean- come on- that’s private stuff but you are funny and witty and dirty and inappropriate and sweet and loving and a good Mom.
I hope I said this right!
On the money and beautifully written.
Exactly how I feel every day of my life. Thanks.
wow
I second that: WOW.
Well said Linda, you write so well.
Note to self: Remember that. Save that. Emblazon that on some visible limb.
Wow, where did that come from? Poetry!
I totally get the feeling that I should have tons of time but yet can’t get anything actually accomplished. At the same time trying to savor every minute of my son’s childhood because it’s so precious and fleeting. I worry that I will get bogged down in the details of daily drudgery and forget those sweet moments that mommyhood brings.
It’s so refreshing to know I am not the only hamster on a wheel.
Oh, Linda. You gave me goosebumps and made me tear up with this one. Beautifully written as usual. Thank you!
that. was gorgeous.
wow. thank-you for putting into words the feeling in my heart.
That was incredible. I hope you never stop writing, L. You elevate the written word. I feel sometimes like I am a better person for having “known” you.
beautifully said.
I was thinking today of my favorite authors… and realized that your name is on the list.
Linda this is just so beautiful.
I don’t even have words really, am a little exhausted myself but you write so so well. Am slightly in awe really.
You are a tremendous writer.
Beautiful entry. (You really should paint your toenails, though).
The third paragraph gave me chills. Thank you.
um, wow. this is gorgeous. i have been a longtime reader but my ears have perked up even more lately, now that i’m due in august with #2. i vacillate between being all zen and panicking about what will happen. reading you has made me feel more and less that way, and given me a touchstone for days when i can’t stop swinging between them. this entry makes me feel like it could be almost fun, the swinging between, even with the change in cabin pressure. thank you for starting my day this way.
You nailed it. Kids are the greatest, most cherished burden we parents can bear, and we do so happily, willingly, tirelessly (while feeling tired all at the same time).
Absolutely beautiful.
I’m with Swistle – hard to pick, but I think this line:“This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. This is so hard to carry.” caught me the most too.
I am home with my 4 month old and I feel the exact same way. Your cryptic but intensely descriptive words are 100% true.
This is probably the most well-written description of motherhood I have read.
Kudos!
Mine are teenagers and I look at them, bent over their homework, or talking on the phone, and think to myself…what the hell am I doing? When is someone going to jump out of the closet and shout, “the jig is up!!” Parenthood. So humbling.
This is just beautiful. It makes me both weary and so excited for motherhood. Thank you!
Oh jeeze….leery….not weary. sheesh!
So well written. You captured it perfectly. And now that my youngest son is 3, I can tell you with absolute confidence that it does get easier.
So very well said.
The need to get momentum, combined with the feeling you are running to keep up already..
too true.