Emo

Song: "All that you can´t leave behind," by U2.

Last week, I went to see the West Side Story, along with my mother-in-law, aunt-in-law, and cousin-in-law. It was grand. I so wished I could be up there, dancing and singing and acting. I wished I were a Broadway star. The stage was beautifully located next to the Manzanares river, with the palace on its left, and the trees of Madrid's Casa de Campo on its right. The moon seemed to belong to the set. There were massive photographs of Manhattan in the '50s, and I sang along (quietly, of course) to the familiar tunes of the show. "I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight." I imagined how fabulous it must be to sing into the city, to hear one's voice spread across the river and into the halls of the royal palace.
I'm glad my baby got to enjoy a show ;-) Ari "attended" a Josh Groban concert before her birth, and traveled to England&Scotland; her sibling deserved at least one similar outing of her/his own. Hopefully, he/she will get to do some pre-birth traveling in August, as well.

It has taken me about one whole year to feel the weight of parenthood. For all the trouble that people associate with caring for a newborn, Ari's infancy was definitely the easy "bit" for me. There were no baby-blues, no post-partum depression of any sort. On the contrary, I felt like I was on top of the world for that entire first year. Motherhood was the most thrilling & fulfilling thing. This second year has been harder. I finally understand why mothers (especially stay-at-home mothers) struggle with their new identity and task. This is not some kind of lament, or horror-story. Not at all. I have just come to the (frustrating) realization that perhaps I, too, need to be more than just a mama. I thought motherhood would be enough for me. At least for a good while. It gave me such a sense of fulfillment and self-worth. But the thought of recovering the "other me" is starting to itch. I feel the urge to express myself creatively, to pursue my other interests. In fact, I finally remember that I actually have interests beyond motherhood.
I didn't think I was that kind of mother. It has taken me a while to realize that that kind of a mother doesn't exist. And if she does, eventually she will inevitably feel the need to be "more" than just a mother. Motherhood may seem like a big bubble for a while, and it certainly revolutionizes one's life, but it is bound to burst at some point.

This is a discussion of the "mother as a person" problem, and the guilt that comes along with it. Now that I am no longer singing my way through every day, no longer raving about how changing diapers and being with my daughter is enough for me, I want to be open about the harder side of mommying. It started several months ago; I lost some of my enthusiasm for caring for my daughter. She still brightened my days with her silly behavior, with her beautiful smile, and her intelligence.....but I started to wish I could have other skills, or other interests.. I wanted to find the next goal. And it made me feel so darn guilty. I thought to myself: "how could I possibly want to spend an hour away from Ari!??"
But I've learned, mainly through conversations with other mothers (including my own ;-) ), that pursuing other interests & developing my identity (beyond motherhood) does not turn me into a bad or selfish mother. On the contrary, it should help me to be a better mother.
"If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy..." It is so true. How can I invest in Arianna if I am an empty shell of a woman? I can try to focus all of my energies on her.... to let her life be life enough for me. But that won't be enough for either of us.

I recently discussed this issue with another mother (of a girl of Ari's age). While I didn't particularly understand her mothering-mentality (i.e. the fact that her daughter goes to the daycare full-time 5 days a week, while the mother doesn't work), she made a good point: children benefit from parents who live fulfilling lives of their own. In other words, if my life revolves solely around Arianna, that will inevitably put tremendous pressure on her.
This is another story about balance, then.

It is tough...I feel quite guilty toward this new baby already. For one, I haven´t been so ecstatic during this pregnancy. And then there is the issue of my plan to be a part-time working mother during his/her young life. Ari has been priviliged to have had my undivided attention for the first two years of her life. I think it has been healthy for her... but I also know that I need to do things differently next year. For my sake & for the children´s. I want to be a fun & energetic mother. It is so strange (yet so recognizable): this change in perspective. Things really are relative. I can no longer say, "ah, what a selfish woman! she works while her baby is young.." Precisely because I think that mothering does revolve around nurturing...and no mother can nurture a child if she is not nurtured by something in return.

More to consider:
So, I´ve been thinking a lot about pregnancy and emotions and how the one affects the other. I thought of my (if I dare say it)perfect first pregnancy. Then I thought of Arianna...of how absolutely cheerful she is. It is no exaggeration. She is, by far, the most joyful & energetic (albeit hyper) child there ever was. She was also the most easy-going baby. It must have something to do with my pregnancy. With how calm and thrilled I was. I have read that a woman´s emotional state during pregnancy affects the child´s emotional development, and I believe that Ari exemplifies that theory. Having said that, I don´t think a mother is entirely to blame or to praise for a child´s behavior/disposition. But it seems natural and logical that a mother would project her energy, positive or negative, onto the child in her womb. Again, I think of how I am influencing my new baby... I think of the tensions, the negativity...the wishing things were different. I want to give this child a fair start in life, too. I need to take a hold of myself, of my emotions, for the sake of this baby.
Still, I am so glad that this weight rests on other shoulders, too. It would be too much of a responsibility to carry. I am convinced that there is a higher power at work.

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.
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Alright. I´ll keep this one short.
It´s good to be back. I´m hoping to stick around for a while.