Fickle, much??

Singing: "Losing my religion" by R.E.M.

I just can´t seem to stay away. This is, what, my fourth blog?

Several months ago, I made the rash & radical decision to delete my blogs and to quit using the web to stay "connected." I might as well have moved into a cave. The sensation that I was hoping for- the tranquility of being out of touch- lasted for about two days. Then I started to miss all the random updates and the casual notes that seemed so irrelevant and monotonous before.
As it turns out, I depend as much on "connection" as the rest of you. And, sadly, closing my fb-account reduced my interaction-level from being regular to practically non-existent.
So, I am back. At least as a blogger.

Being a Mama:
Ari is a baby no more, and her sibling is well on her/his way. That´s right, I´m 15 weeks pregnant, and a whole lot fatter than I was 4 months ago. I mention the "fat!" part just because it has bothered me a great deal to see the weight accumulate about twice as fast as it did in my first pregnancy. Last time around, pregnancy boosted my self-esteem. Honestly, I didn´t feel self-conscious until week 41 or so. Now, I actually try to avoid mirrors.
Most second-time (or third, fourth,fifth, eleventh....-time) mothers would probably agree.
As our bodies lose their shape, pregnancy loses a bit of its charm.

Everything is different. Not necessarily worse, but definitely different. I am not whining, I am just agreeing with the millions of mothers who warn first-time mothers that the second time around:
*we would not daydream half as much about the state we´re in
*months would fly by before we would even think about writing booklong letters to our awaited children
*and we might look like we´re in the final trimester before we´ve even ended the first.

I am starting to sound like one of those mothers who can only think about dirty diapers, midnight meltdowns, and temper-tantrums when the word "motherhood" comes up.... but I assure you, I am still the happiest and proudest of mothers.
It has just surprised me that my second pregnancy, too, is different from the first.

When I found out about my first pregnancy, I started a journal immediately. I walked around feeling magnificent and alive as if in another dimension. Now, there are days when I don´t even think about being pregnant. I don´t worry about the weight I carry in my arms or how much I have rested, because I spend my days running after an energetic toddler & carrying her 11 kilos up and down the stairs and across town.

Still, I am curious about this new baby, and so eager to meet him/her. It is just funny that everything about this second child seems so defined by Ari & is inevitably measured by our experiences with her.

Being me:
On the bus this morning, I reflected upon my life (as I tend to do while on the bus) and realized that I´ve crammed a decade worth of experiences into a couple of years. (Hence the title of this blog.) I got married, went to graduate school, lived in 3 different countries, got my Spanish driver´s license, and am twice a mother (well, sort of). Most (sensible) people take their time. They begin to chase their dreams when they are 25... I feel like I´m all out of dreams to chase.
Although I love what I´ve lived and done, sometimes I fear that I have nothing left to do. I don´t want to become one of those women who lives vicariously through her children.
¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨
Alright. I´ll keep this one short.
It´s good to be back. I´m hoping to stick around for a while.