forgetting mother's day

i really truly normally do not care about these things, but it's gotten to me here this evening that it's mother's day and until my sister said "happy mother's day" to me here at the end of the day, no one in this house had acknowledged it. even tho' i spent the entire day with my daughter and sat and had tea and breakfast with husband. i realize i'm not his mother, but he could have encouraged the child. and she liked about a zillion people's pictures of them and their mothers, but didn't even say happy mother's day until she heard me thanking my sister for being the first one to say anything. and i'll admit that i think it bugs me more because it's everywhere on social media - warm fuzzy posts of people with their mothers, thanking their mothers, acknowledging them. i don't care about a present, as there's nothing i need, but it would have been nice if the child would have at least wished me happy mother's day and maybe brought me a coffee at some point. or posted a picture of us together and said happy mother's day on instagram or facebook. but no. i got nothing. and i have to admit that hurts more than i would have imagined it would. and i honestly wish it didn't. but there you have it. it's undoubtedly compounded by my sister being there to visit our mother and realizing for the first time that mom doesn't really know who she is. we knew that day would come, but i find it genuinely distressing to hear that that day is now. in all, not the best mother's day ever. and not the best way to end an otherwise glorious weekend.

all i really needed to know about motherhood i learned from a bunny

a nest of bunnies (both white ones still alive at this point)

when i went out to take my daily photo of baby bunny progress, there were only four bunnies in the nest. one of the little white ones was missing. i looked all over for it and finally found it, much to my sadness, cold and stiff, far outside of the nest box. it looks perfect and plump and yet perhaps the mama bunny pushed it out because she could tell there was something wrong with it, something that wasn't visible to the human eye that's just utterly charmed by the nest of furry baby bunnies.

mama mira

thinking that mama knows best, that's our impulse, right? we've been acculturated to think it. and i've been otherwise impressed at the transformation of mira, a rather fluffy and inscrutably expressionless bunny, who i didn't think had a whole lot going on in her little bunny head, into a very good and diligent mama.  i guess there's also an element of hope in the story i've told myself - that she could sense that something was profoundly wrong with her little white bunny baby, and not that she just accidentally knocked it out of the nest box and couldn't be bothered to get it back in.

motherhood is transformative. both mira and molly's thoughtful post on c is for capetown have me pondering that. tho' i am a mother and a blogger, i resist the term mommy blogger, finding it decidedly pejorative. i also find the lists of advice and navel gazing in the mommy blogosphere make me throw up a little bit in my mouth. there's a lot of piety and righteousness and i don't do well with either of those (and don't even get me started on homeschooling).  there's also lots of talk of losing oneself and finding oneself and there's also a whole lot of self-absorbed chat about how to get your old self back.

well, i have news for you. you can't have your old self back. and what's more, you don't even really want her back. you may still have her clothes and they may not fit, but guess what...fashion changes and you needed new clothes anyway. realistically, those clothes are at least a year old and while i'm in favor of choosing lasting pieces that have a timeless quality, just buy some new clothes.

of course, clothes are the least of your worries. here's the deal - you are still who you are, you just added a new dimension in becoming a mom. i had always said i didn't want children. it turns out that the reason i thought that was because until i met husband, i wasn't with a guy that i could see being that tied to (despite years of serial monogamy and long-term relationships and even marrying one of those guys for awhile) for ever and ever. and so when we had sabin, i had a lot of worries about it - like everyone does. but i don't think i ever worried about losing myself.

i worried about not being able to go to the movies or travel or stay up late drinking too much wine and i worried about putting that feeding tube down her nose (she was born 10 weeks early), and i worried about whether it was actually ok that her poo was that color. but those worries soon passed. the hospital taught us how to do the feeding tube (and since she doesn't still use it, it was a temporary thing anyway.) you learn that what you put in the baby comes out of the baby and if what you put in was green, chances are it will be rather green coming out. i stopped caring about whether i'd seen the latest movies and it stopped being important whether i saw them in the theatre or on a plane or on my computer. i found i could still have friends over for dinner and stay up 'til the wee hours solving the world's problems over a bottle (or two) of red wine. and as for travel? the child has been to the philippines five times, dragged across europe on a train, shopped in london and dublin and barcelona and was sent to the US on her own at the age of 7, so travel hasn't been an issue. turns out they have tickets for children.

if, when you have children, you continue to live your life, including your child in that life, it's the best you can do. you can't really lose yourself because, as i commented on molly's blog, you're the one person you can't ever really get away from. you might lose an old version of who you were, but we do that all the time anyway, it's called life and growing and changing. and if there's one thing that doesn't change, it's that we change. our priorities, our desires, our homes...life is change. but if you show your child that you're strong and secure in who you are and that you'll protect and help and cherish them and be there for them when they need you, you'll be the best mom you can be. even mira knows that.

oh the bunny adventures you'll have...

chatterbox

addressing invitations, originally uploaded by julochka.

we spent a number of hours today making invitations for sabin's upcoming birthday party. we started last evening, drawing robots. because we're all about the robots at the moment. then, we made the screens and printed the little robots on some beautiful bright cards i bought at the fabulous norway designs last month. we made sweet robots with cupcakes on their tummies.

sabin was so excited and so happy and so bubbly. she was making lists of the names of her classmates so she could write them on the envelopes, where we had gocco printed a little stack o'robots. it was fun and i hope it's the kind of activity that sabin will remember when she grows up.

but, i have to admit that eventually, all of the chatter was driving me completely crazy. she counted and counted again, she named all 20 classmates and then named them again. she talked about which ones would give her what for a present. she never, ever stopped talking. or wiggling. jumping up and down from the chair, running around, fiddling and just wiggling and chattering and chattering.

i want to love every minute of her joy and her happiness and i love that we're doing something creative together that makes her happy, but i was eventually ready to scream. finally, around five, when she was calculating for the 66th time how many days it was 'til her birthday, i asked her to just keep some of her thoughts in her own head for awhile. i didn't yell, i didn't say "shut the hell up," i didn't scream, tho' i was screaming on the inside.

i feel a little bit bad about it because i dearly love her and i dearly love seeing her joyful and happy. i KNOW these are the moments i should treasure as well, because in a couple of weeks, she's turning 8 and it won't be long before she's a sulky teenager, sleeping 18 hours a day. and i DO appreciate her and love her dearly.

i just sometimes wish she could sit still and be quiet for just a little while.

p.s. this is the first time i've tried doing a blog post from flickr. not sure i'll do it again.