Izzy’s first rainy day (I can’t really do ‘wordless’)
I went to Bikram today for the first time in ages. In fact, I think I’ve been a total of twice since I became pregnant with the boy (in 2011). However, even though it’s been about four years since I’ve been and even another year or so before then since I’ve been regularly, it still felt just like coming home.
I was so nervous before – worried about everything from the way I look in my yoga pants to passing out or throwing up in class. The latter didn’t happen and though I didn’t look the way I did the last time I went to class, right when I entered that room and looked at myself in the mirror, all the judgement escaped. I realized that those are the only times I ever feel that way. I’m always so hard on myself, constantly critical. Until, that is, I’m standing in front of a huge mirror with myriad other people in various levels of undress. It’s a bit odd, but I seriously just found my people.
Now, however, I have a headache and I’m really sore.
I can’t wait to keep going and I can’t wait to start feeling that sense of peace within myself outside of the yoga studio and for longer amounts of time. I desperately long for it. Though I feel slightly trepidatious, I also feel pretty excited.
So, it’s been awhile. What’s new, you ask? Well, we moved to the US. Finally! I’ve now been through all the stages that a move like that brings with it, starting with absolute joy, spiraling through rage and depression (mostly surrounding health care frustrations and costs) and ending up with a bit of reality: confused, trepidatious and mostly, content.
We are here, in New Jersey and I’ve actually had to turn in my California drivers license to get a New Jersey one, which I think may be where most of the anger has come from.
We’ve been through quite a bit, actually. I wouldn’t really recommend moving across the world with a one year old and a three year old. It’s pretty stressful. I think my husband and I have taken the brunt of that stress, both individually but mainly as a couple. I’m not quite sure how that will play out, but I imagine it will take some work on our part.
But all that aside, like everyone else, I’m really just posting here to write out my resolutions. I think that not only do I need to focus on myself, but really, it just might be the best way to help my relationship with my husband as well.
So, here we go:
- Go to yoga at least twice a week (thanks to my mother, who is paying for Bikram as a Christmas present)
- Hit my step goal at least four days a week (10,000 steps a day)
- Kiss my husband intentionally at least once a day
- Blog once a week – hopefully with more care and attention than right now (I’m watching Notting Hill – it’s been a long holiday and an even longer weekend).
I shall write again next week – or hey, maybe sooner – and update on my progress. I’m starting yoga tomorrow and am very excited about that.
I have not followed through with the Abundant Mama Rise & Shine Challenge, regarding which I think I already acknowledged that it would take me much longer than ten days. Perhaps if I were the sort of person who didn’t need some (very nice, I’m sure) lady online telling me how to be a better person/mother, I would be fine within the confines of those days – Hell, maybe I’d even beat her ten days and double down on some of the challenges. However, I am what I am. Part of me accepting this challenge for myself is figuring out how to (finally) accept that, and not just with half-joking regret, but in full and complete understand and empathy of my own struggle and my own dance through life.
That said, I am still fully planning on completing the challenge; it, along with many other things in my life, has made me realize that there is a whole lot of stuff that I need to let go of in order to “rise and shine” at any time of the day. There were some rituals in one of the emails (I don’t even know what day I’m on anymore, but does it really matter?) that got me thinking of intention and how I intend to live my life. I realized, I don’t. I think about shoulds quite a bit: even this blog started out as a should. In fact, I don’t really live. I am alive, of course: I breathe, I laugh, I cry, I love, I feel, I embrace, I fear. But I don’t actually live. And to be honest, I fear far too much.
On days like today – a Thursday, where my beautiful little boy is happily looked after by other people, I wake feeling wonderful, filled with my plans for the day, which are usually a mixture of yoga/blogging/me time, cleaning, and relaxing/doing nothing. I lay in bed reading for sometimes up to an hour (depending on how hungry this little girl gets) and then I get up and make myself breakfast (a prospect made far less enjoyable now that I am gluten and dairy free) and while I eat, I put on the TV. Then I’m hooked and I don’t stop. Suddenly, it’s 2:00 in the afternoon and I haven’t showered or brushed my teeth or barely moved from the sofa. All I’ve done is watch TV and play games on my phone. Today is different, obviously, as it’s currently 12:30 and I’ve already tidied the living room, cleaned the kitchen, done the laundry, read and had breakfast and lunch. Woo-hoo! Go, me!
However, the former is all too familiar. If it isn’t a Tuesday or a Thursday, the instant that little boy’s head hits his pillow and I say, “Sweet dreams” and walk out of his room for his nap, the TV goes on and my phone or iPad comes out. Numb. I am numbing myself. From what, I’m not entirely sure, because my life is pretty awesome. Sure, we live in a country where things are difficult and we don’t want to be here and there are a lot of things I struggle with here. Sure, I have a very independent, outspoken, stubborn toddler and am also currently growing a baby. But those problems in and of themselves are pretty great problems to have. I know this. I am grateful for this. Daily. And yet…
I’ve been doing it for so long, I have no idea how to stop. Ever since I stopped doing drugs, I’ve been doing it with food and TV (which, let me tell you, leads to a far more coherent me, but is much less fun). That means since high school. I’ve not been fully living my life since high school. That’s over half my life (Eek! I’m old!). I’ve had moments, of course, some lasting months even, but something always happened to shatter that bubble and bring me back into my reality. I don’t want that anymore. I know, and have always been aware, that my depression means that I’ll always have days where I question, where I fear too much, where I cry for no reason and every reason, where I feel absolutely useless and heartbroken over everything and nothing. I know that, and I’m okay with that. Right now, though, it’s too close to the surface. It’s too much of a reality. My lack of living has allowed me to become that person always. I am defined by my depression, by my fears. I don’t want that anymore.
I want to change my reality. I want those days just to be those days – where maybe I don’t get the house cleaned that day, maybe I have to get takeout for dinner and maybe I need to lay on the sofa and read an entire book to escape whatever it is I’m feeling. But I want to wake the following day without it holding me back from returning to my reality. I want to go back to yoga, go back to smiling and meaning it, go back to whatever glorious future I will have with my amazing children and husband. I don’t want to be held back by this fear any longer.
How does one change their reality? I suppose it’s a combination of a lot of little changes – a lot of little moments that take a lot of will power to make different choices. In search of more answers, I’ve downloaded an audiobook by Pema Chödrön, hoping that just be surrounding myself with uplifting ideas and sounds, versus the TV, it will become easier and easier to make those different choices in the little things, and perhaps the bigger things will become that much clearer as I go along.
Now, back to this challenge, which obviously plays a key part in my new reality. I’ve worked through a bit of my ideal mornings and what I want to get from my nights – I have my nightly checklist (which I need to transfer to my notebook because while I love the ease of writing my journal/blog online, I am not a person who functions online: I still have a wall calendar and an actual paper to do list) and I’m still working on my bigger rituals and also on IMPLEMENTING these things, as that is key… and I, obviously, have yet to do that.
To encourage my intentional mornings (beyond the bigger picture of figuring out how to start living and change my reality), I need to actually plan for the little moments because, let’s face it, I am NOT a morning person and as I have a husband who is and a two-year old who most definitely is, I can’t imagine myself getting up hours before them in order to accommodate my desire to do yoga, have a long, lovely shower, linger over breakfast and coffee with a good book and then also get all the cleaning, laundry, etc done in order to set myself up for the day. When would I have to wake up? 3:00 AM? Not going to happen.
So, what can I really do in the mornings? Well, I’ve been thinking that the most important thing is banning electronics for the first hour or so. The instant I wake up, I turn on my phone, check my email and Facebook. Seriously. Who do I think I am? Out of the maybe twelve emails I get every morning, maybe one of them is actually for me and even that is never urgent. And Facebook? Ugh. So. Wake up and wake up. Perhaps I should get a coffee machine and have it go off in the morning so I can have coffee – decaf, though, because I’m pregnant and get jittery if I drink coffee before I eat anything. Or perhaps I should train myself to jump in the shower. I’m not sure yet, but I know I need to get up and USE that time, otherwise any time I give myself will fall directly into the Internet void, and that’s is a routine that NO ONE wants.
What I would like is to be ready (physically: face-washed, tea/coffee in hand, dressed) when the boy wakes. That way when he is up, I can put my energy into him and his day and what we are going to do together. So, I suppose, that is as simple as it is: I need to get up, pull some clothes on, wash my face and make some tea or coffee. Perhaps this would be a good time to listen to my audiobooks for the present and in future, when I’m further along in my progress, to do some yoga/meditation (those things are fine to do with tea in hand, right?!?!).
So, my task for the day: copy my nightly check-list and my morning goals into my notebook. Yes, it does seem simple enough for me to remember to wash my face in the morning without having to write it in my notebook and keep that notebook by the side of my bed. As I said, if I were that type of person…
1. If I walk past his shut door on my tiptoes in the evening or night, his little head will pop right up as he cries out, wanting to play or wanting me to sit beside him whilst he deliberately does NOT sleep. However, if I need him to wake in the morning, I can walk in his room loudly, open his blinds (which are really loud), take out his binkie, and talk to him and NOTHING. He barely stirs.
2. If I need to shower after the hubs leaves for work (which is often as I am also not a morning person), he will stay in the bathroom with me, like a good boy. However, he is adamant about me leaving the shower doors open, allowing all the heat to escape. As I quickly try and clean the oatmeal from my hair, he puts everything he can get his grubby little hands on into the shower with me: his step-stool, his potty, my towel (which was dry), various toys, anything he can manage to pull out of the cupboards (which are supposed to be child proofed)… And we have one of those teeny little ‘European’ showers, in which I would not be able to fit were I to gain five pounds.
3. He needs to have ALL doors and cupboards shut at all times. So, if I want to get in the fridge, for example, I have to be lightening quick and already know exactly where whatever it is I want to eat is, because I have about 1.2 seconds to get it out before he slams my poor hand inside the fridge, screaming at me for daring to disturb his well-ordered universe. It should be noted that usually when I’m getting something out of the fridge or cupboards, it’s because he’s yelling at me that he’s hungry.
To be continued…
Size: kidney bean
Fun Fact: tail just about gone
Baby Enjoying: swimming around and doing flips – so they tell me, I can’t feel anything
Mommy Enjoying: vinegary foods (marinated artichoke hearts, pickles, coleslaw, sauerkraut, salads, etc…), gardening (who knew pregnancy would be the motivation I needed?), Lark Rise to Candleford: a pregnant girl has to relax after all, so I’m rewatching the ENTIRE series. Sooooo good!
Baby Not Enjoying: the crazy toddler that keeps kicking and hitting him/her and distracting mommy so much that she forgets that he/she exists
Mommy Not Enjoying: this weird obsession/revulsion I seem to have with Subway (only when pregnant), nausea in general (somehow I’d blocked the entire first trimester out of my mind), the crazy toddler that keeps kicking and hitting her belly (and everywhere else) and distracting her so much that she forgets that she’s pregnant
Secret Fears: not being constantly nauseated so I know that everything is ok (I want to have an ultrasound every day), this little baby somehow knowing my desire for a little girl and going away or feeling sad because of it
Grateful For: Prenatal Yoga with Shiva Rea – first day done and feeling totally energized!