I'm one who believes that once you're a mommy, you're always a mommy. Every second. No, I might not be with my children every second, but they occupy at least a small portion of my brain every waking moment of my day. Whether I'm fully mindful while in a downward dog, or balancing with all that I have in a tree pose. I could be a million miles away, alone on a beach, but still, I'm a mommy. It never goes away. Which is good and bad.
This morning, it was good.
This afternoon, not so much. On the way home from a fantastic two and a half hours on the beach, the kids fell asleep. Just long enough to get them through until an early bedtime. But it was ugly. Really really ugly. They were loving on each other one minute, and the next slapping each other and kicking and screaming. But so it goes.
I've been reading Mamaphonic: Balancing, Motherhood and Other Creative Acts, recommended by a dear friend. It's a collection of essays on motherhood and creating written by artists, writers, singers, people who create. I've read a few essays a night for the past few nights, and am struck by the honesty and the resounding "YES!" I feel as I flip the pages and devour the words. By mothers, about motherhood; that thing that never leaves us once the first wave of morning sickness crashes.
I have underlined and starred something in each essay thus far, but the one that sticks out in my mind is called The Blue Pitcher, by Patricia Kinney. In it, she writes about how she self publishes a poetry journal, hand sews the bindings with her sons watching, helping. She writes about how she wants to involve them in her art, how it's important for them to see her passionate about something. Not sweeping her work into a cabinet when the kids come home from school as her mother might have. Her art has a place in their family.
What a concept. Taking yourself seriously, how else can we teach our children about that kind of passion, except to live it. I want my kids to see me writing fast and furiously on scraps of paper when an idea comes to mind. I want them to feel my passion about books and art and whatever else is in my heart. To keep my heart on my sleeve, even when that sleeve is used to wipe snotty noses and dust sand off of gritty hands.
I can't turn being mommy off. But there are other things I don't want to turn off just because I'm a mommy. The creativity that flows possibly because of motherhood, the passion that exists for beauty and art and life, the love of words and the moment when pen hits paper and magic happens.
It's good stuff. I want to share it with them, inspire them. Show them this world and the incredible inspiration that is here for the taking.