Mamas: I'm Pausing
I am traveling this week. I packed up the car, prepared all the snacks, made all the stops, and delivered myself and my two girls to Buffalo, New York. Pre-trip I was feeling all sorts of victorious, but mid-trip I’m here to report I am lusting for my bed, my routine, and the ability to walk around the house sans bra. As a disclaimer, this is the trip I’ll soon recall as the one where my youngest decided to abandon the pack n’play and my oldest discovered some weird and stubborn rash on her arm. We’re operating on limited sleep and it’s showing.
I grew up in Buffalo. My childhood home is the place I’ve lived the longest. I love remembering life within these walls and bringing my girls home with me is a gift beyond words.
But a funny thing happens when we grow and gain in experience. We evolve. This will always be the place where I was raised and learned to dream. But my home now lies within people and not a place. However, there’s no denying that the comforts of our communities largely help us in these moments of motherhood where we feel challenged or exhausted.
My parents are doing what they do best, which is loving and supporting me. My mom was up early with me and handed me my first and most critical cup of coffee this morning. And I’m surviving, which in itself gives me some much needed strength during what I refer to as my ‘travel zoo.’ And while I may miss my husband, struggle with this lack of sleep, and crave some Rose City charm, I know there’s some value in what I’m about to do, which is pause.
Life gets crazy. Whether we’re ‘home,’ on the road, or anyplace where unpredictability and adventure resides, which is pretty much anywhere, life humbles. It’s pretty easy to complain, but kids force introspection in the most interesting of times. I’m constantly a stranger to scenarios because I see the world through my experiences and my children. The latter, in all their innocence and inquiry, remind me of the briefness and beauty of the chaos.
I’m sitting in the family room where I used to pretend play. I’m listening to my mom chat with my two-year-old. I’m watching my dad make my four year-old-giggle. I’m realizing that I needed to get away to get it all back. Don’t fast forward. I don’t know if I’m winning at motherhood today or ever. But I’m living it and loving my way through it. That’s enough.
Wishing you pauses and the possibilities within.