Sometimes

Sometimes mommies get cranky. Sometimes mommies aren't all the way awake. Sometimes mommies would rather sit at home than do something fun.

Sometimes I cringe at the suggestion of a trip to the beach. Sometimes all I think about is the mess. The sand will get everywhere. It takes forever to get sand out of Lion's hair.

Sometimes I say no. Sometimes I miss out on the beautiful moments.

Sometimes I don't. Sometimes saying yes is the most important thing. Sometimes letting go is totally worth it.

Sometimes life is perfect.

Swimming and Running

My hand slashes through the water. My feet kick behind me, propelling me forward. My head turns, rising up to take a breath.

I continue on until my hand touches the wall. I could grab the wall and hold on. Or I could turn, pushing off and moving forward. I choose to turn.

The wall approaches again. And again I choose to turn. Touching the safety of the wall, letting go, turning back to the water.

My body begins to tire. My resolve begins to falter. My mind starts to scream. "This is not normal. This is not safe. There is nothing holding you up. You are not a creature of the sea."

The water is not real. It is not solid. It cannot hold me. Panic sets in.

I try to fight my mind. I try to continue on. I thrash and kick out of control. My chest tightens. My pulse quickens. My heart thumps so loudly I can hear it in my ears. I lift my head trying to take a breath but there is not enough air. My hands frantically search for the wall but it lies just out of reach.

My foot hits the ground. The ground is solid. It is real. One foot, then the other, hitting the ground and pushing off, propelling me forward.

I look up and see the sky. I look down and see the ground. It is solid. It is real. One foot, then the other, moving forward.

Around me are signs of life. Grass, plants, dirt, the smell of the earth. Buildings, cars, concrete, the smells of civilization. A squirrel darts in front of me, looking frightened before it escapes to the safety of a tree. A dog spies the squirrel and strains on its leash, struggling to pull free to chase the squirrel. The hand at the end of the leash pulls back, straining to control, to regain their rhythm. We pass and smile, connecting with each other, connecting with the earth.

This is real. This is solid. One foot, then the other, moving forward.

My mind does not struggle here. The sound of my footfalls, the feeling of connecting with the earth brings a clarity. I breathe in the fresh air. Each breath bringing the peace I have longed for.

This is real. This is solid. One foot, then the other, moving forward.

I have been swimming lately. Some days all I do is swim, struggling to reach the shore. Swimming in my kitchen, swimming at the store, swimming in my sleep. Too much swimming. An endless pool, river, lake, ocean.

I choose not to swim anymore. I choose to run.

This is real. This is solid. One foot, then the other, moving forward.

Grieving and Letting Go

I've come to a realization. It is time for me to come to grips with something I've known in my heart for so long.

We are in the process of bringing another child into our family. It is a child that I want more than anything else in this world. A child I love with all of my heart even though I have never met him.

We began the adoption process last fall and we have not progressed very far. I have been dragging my feet on getting our paperwork done. And I wondered why I wasn't doing what I needed to get done. The faster I moved, the sooner our child would be here. I want this other child. I can see his face when I close my eyes. So why wasn't I moving heaven and earth to get him here? I could chalk it up to laziness and procrastination, I am no stranger to those demons. But that was not the answer.

Then one day it hit me. I wanted to have a biological child. I thought if I didn't get the adoption process rolling, then maybe just maybe I would get pregnant.

It is a dream that I have had for so long. I can't even rememeber the first time I thought about having children, playing mommy as girls often do with a pillow under my shirt. It was a given, I would get pregnant, I would have a baby. Every one does.

But not every one does.

I didn't.

Month after month, year after year, I didn't get pregnant.

So I moved on and made other plans. We built our family through adoption. But I thought about having a baby. People told me that I would get pregnant after we adopted. They told me stories about it happening. I knew people it had happened to. I grabbed at the hope that those stories offered and held on tight. It happens. It can happen to you.

But it didn't happen.

Month after month, year after year, it didn't happen.

And maybe it never would.

Never.

In my mind I knew it.

But my heart still held on to this dream. And in order to move forward, I had to release the dream that I had held in my heart for so long. I thought my heart would break into a million tiny pieces when I finally said those words. But I had to do it, I had to open my mouth and say out loud to the world:

I am never going to get pregnant. I am never going to carry a baby inside of me for nine months. I am never going to give birth to a child. I am never going to feel the joy and the pain that experience can bring.

As I said those words, I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. My heart hurt but it had not broken. I was still here. The earth was still spinning. The sun was still shining. My daughter, my beloved daughter, was still laughing and playing.

And now I can move on.

The child I see when I close my eyes does not look like me, nor does he look like my husband. He has cocoa brown skin and dark eyes. The son that I want, the son that I love is the one we are planning on adopting.

Not flesh of my flesh, Nor bone of my bone,
But still miraculously my own.
Never forget for a single minute,
You didn't grow under my heart - but in it
--- Fleur Conkling Heylinger

You Look Like A Big Girl Now

Bunny had her first hair cut today. I had a few issues with her getting it done. It was necessary but I didn't want to do it.

So we started off with her hair looking like this:


Then the haircut started. I was surprised that I didn't start crying. I managed to hold it together and she was such a good sport.



But when it was done, I got a bit misty. She didn't look like a little girl anymore. She looks like a big girl, a girl who was getting ready to go to school with her Kai Lan backpack. (Okay now I'm crying) She looks like an angel:


The women at the salon just loved her. She got a sucker. And she also got, what I consider to be an even bigger treat, a free toe and nail polish:


All in all she thought it was fun. She looked at me, yanked the tootsie pop out of her mouth and said "I have rainbow toes, momma." Yes you do big girl.

I'm Never Leaving the House Again

Lately I've noticed that Bunny is perfectly content to stay at home in her pjs all day. She wants to play with the horses (the dinos haven't come out of their cave in a few days), dance to the Bushel and Peck song, paint and color with markers. If this were the sum total of her world she would be content.

Of course there would be the occasional forays to Ama and Baca's house and to Starbucks. Because that is fun. If I mention we have music class or play date. She says "no I wanna stay home". We still go out, but she's not really happy to leave. She's fine once she's out, its just the leaving that's hard. This is probably due to the influx of new stuff from Christmas, Hanaukkah and her birthday. There is so much to play with that she really doesn't get bored.

But some of it is also that new kids hold no interest for her. She will play with the kids at music class and play group because she knows them. But story time and other activities don't really go over too well. She even wants to skip her beloved open gym time because there are too many kids.

So what's a mom to do? I am considering forcing the issue and sending her to pre-school/day care one morning a week. This is something I never would have done a year ago but I think she needs to be around other kids on a more regular basis. It would help prepare her for pre-school in the fall.

But this decision is causing me some anxiety because I know it will cause her some. Trips to the gym daycare have resulted in so much crying that I have been summoned from my work out to comfort her. While I know this would only be temporary, that she would get over it, it still makes me reconsider the whole plan.

So faithful readers, what would you do in this situation?

Just When I Get Out, They Pull Me Back In

As you can tell from my last post I've got some issues. I've over committed myself and its starting to mess with my head. Now my head, some may say, is already messed up and didn't need anything more added to the mix.

But I suffer from a condition common to many women, the inability to say no. No is a simple word, its only two letters N-O. But I find it difficult to say.

Maybe it stems from my junior high insecurities, I want you to like me so I'll say yes and help you out. So you'll think that Renee's a great girl, always willing to help out, let's be friends with her.

Maybe its a mom thing. I'm so used to helping someone meet their basic needs that its just easy to help anyone else. You can't find your dinosaur? You need help? Let mommy help you. You need me to what? Ok, I'll help.

Maybe its because I'm not working outside of the house anymore and I need a way to stay connected to the "real world". When I was working every day I didn't do this much. I said yes all day at work but said no to other things because I was too tired. Now that I'm home with Bunny its like "you want me to spend time with adults and not talk about dinosaurs or using the potty? Cool where do I sign up?"

Even when I want to say no, I say yes. Every fiber of my being is screaming no, no don't do it but my mouth is saying ok. Stupid mouth.

But after my panic attack on Friday, I decided to let go of something. I looked at what I was doing, planning a wine tasting event and being a team leader for the Obama campaign. I weighed the pros and cons of each.

Wine tasting - wine at all the planning meetings, meeting people who could help me get into writing, wine, manageable commitment, wine. Did I mention the wine. No real downside there.

Obama team - making a difference, making history. But there are some downsides - 10 hour per week commitment, recruiting new volunteers, too much responsibility, if someone doesn't do their job, I'd have to do it.

It seemed like the choice was clear. I was going to have to quit the Obama team. But I felt guilty. I'd made a commitment, how could I back out?

Bubs tried to reason with me. "You can still canvass and phone occasionally, just not all the time." He even said that Obama would understand and agree that I have to do what is right for me and my family. I'm not giving up completely, I'm still voting for him.

Ok, that did it. I was going to call the campaign and explain the situation. And then it happened. Mike from the campaign said Obama's coming on Monday. We want you to volunteer all day. You can hear him speak and possibly meet him. And what did I say? YES. I can quit next week.

Anxious

I walked into the living room, my chest felt heavy. I sat down on the couch by myself but I was not alone. A feeling of dread enveloped me. My heart began to race and pound like it was going to come out of my chest. My mind began to jump from thought to thought, my mood darkening.

I was panicking.

I could see my daughter playing with her dinos on the floor. "What you doing, momma?" She brought Giganta over to say hi. He started to climb all over me, up my arm and onto my head. It was the connection I needed to break out of this. I reached past Giganta to hug my daughter. She was real, she was true, she was everything in the world.

After she struggled out of my hug and ran to pick up Deltadromeus and Allosaurus, I started calming down. I steadied my breathing and tried to clear my head. The more I breathed and focused on what was important, the slower my heartbeat became. My mood lightened, the dread began to losen its hold.

I had to get moving to get away from this feeling. I grabbed Bunny and the stroller and we headed out. As the fresh air entered my lungs I could sense that everything would be alright. We walked the river trail, picking wildflowers and watching bees. We saw the ducks swimming. Bunny was in heaven. "Look momma. Look at the ducks. I want to buy a boat." This was real and true. This is what was important.

This was my first panic attack in years. I used to have them all the time but I learned how to handle stress. I learned how to avoid them. But lately I've been overwhelmed. I've been stretched too thin. I know I need to let go of some of these things to focus on what is important.