Tag Archive for: baby steps

New Years Resolutions, Dreams, and Motherhood.

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I’ve never been much of a resolution gal, but I’ve always been a dreamer. And who doesn’t perch at the beginning of a new year and daydream about what is to come? Some of us make one big goal, some choose a word, some choose so many goals that we collapse overwhelmed three days in.

But as I sit here on my couch, in stillness, my dreams for the new year feel a bit jumbled. There are dreams for my family and our future that come easily and without much coaxing. And there are dreams for just myself-big ones, impossible ones, things that once seemed attainable. But there’s a shift once you have a little person or two relying on you for life…your dreams take a back seat. They just do, it’s the nature of things. And the backseat is fine because they’re still in the car, they’re just not the focus, the one up front controlling the radio. But how do I honor my dreams just as strongly when they’re not in the forefront? Is it even possible to have dreams and change diapers?

Of course there is, right? Women have been doing it for ages. But sometimes when you’re up to your elbows in someone else’s poop, it doesn’t really feel like there are dreams beyond motherhood.

So what do we do? Where do we turn? Do we just throw in the towel and “wait until their older” to honor our souls? Big fat NOPE. Baby steps my friends, that’s how. Because achieving the goal isn’t really the purpose, it’s about honoring ourselves enough to reach towards the goal, and move into the space of accepting our dreams.

This year I’ve come face to face with the reality that I have given up on the dream I have had since I was a little girl: the dream of being a professional actress. I used to stand in front of my mirror and accept an Oscar over and over again. I’d sing the songs from Les Miserables until my throat was sore . But life got in my way a bit, and over the years the dream was pushed to the side. I remember being accepted into college, crying inside that I had never even tried to get into NYU as I had always dreamed.

The truth is, my life has changed. But that dream is still there asking to be acknowledged in some way. And so I will continue to honor it by bravely auditioning for shows in my area, and taking dance classes at 28 years young. And maybe just maybe I will stretch way out far and be an extra in a movie. Baby steps.

There are other dreams too-to write a book, to get back into half marathon shape, to travel more. And they all begin with baby steps. Dreams that I give life to in even the most minuscule of ways. Who cares if I “get there”, all that matters is that I reached towards it, even while momming.

And can I just say friends, let’s not forget that reaching for our dreams is an absolute privilege. I do not take for granted the freedom I have to dream and do something about it.

Dream big this year mamas, and baby steps.

When you’re a mom with anxiety.

/in , ,

I have always been a little scared of being a mom, and at times very terrified. Anyone who has ever had a panic attack can identify with the need to have an escape at all times. What would happen if I had three kids in a shopping cart in a store and had to get out of there ASAP? I’d be stuck. What about when my kids get older and start to realize that mommy is afraid of certain things, breathes really fast in certain places? What about the days when my OCD has such a hold on me that I can’t get myself to stop organizing for even a second, plowing through my kids imaginative play in order to create my own illusion for control? And then the biggest fear, the one I don’t dare share; what if life becomes too much one day and I leave my babies behind?

I come about it honestly. My whole family struggles with anxiety. Having been a child of two parents who struggle with deep fears, I know first hand how it can affect our teeny people. No judgement-my parents did the very best they could and we all turned out pretty good, but I felt their anxiety and it greatly affected me. Knowing this, I am so very sensitive to what my anxiety could do to my baby girl. I wonder if she notices, even now, the differences in my days. But even if she can’t sense my deep feelings now, I know that someday soon she will. How do you show those hard parts of yourself to your innocent babies? How to you lay your cards all out on the table, lead by example in navigating hardships, all while not burdening them with your baggage?

How am I ever going to do this?

Before I had Lilah, my life was self centered. It had to be, it was how I survived. Every move was planned perfectly to avoid as much fear and uncomfortability as possible. I had it down to a science. I had a dozen excuses in my back pocket, knew my escapes to avoid certain situations. But I can’t quite do that anymore.

There’s more going on here now. I have to learn to do it a little bit differently now then before. If I want my babies to experience life to the fullest then I’m going to have to do some of those hard things. If I want to avoid losing my shit at home with a baby all winter then I’m going to have to go to those play dates, run those errands-stretch myself to reach those places.

But guys it’s really hard. It’s hard to recharge enough to get myself to the places I need to be and to do the things I need to do for my baby. It takes a lot of intentional time to myself, a lot of understanding exactly what I need in order to be at my best. And still some days, most days, lulu doesn’t get my best. She just gets what I’ve got to give in the moment, even if it’s teary snuggles in front of the TV.

I’m learning to have grace for myself when I don’t feel like I’m being the parent I should be. When I’m scared that I’m hurting my child by being a mess. When I’m afraid I won’t be able to handle raising her and any other babies we might parent. One step at a time right? Deep breaths, baby’s steps. That’s often all I have to give. Can I trust that is enough? Can I trust that my love for her is making the difference? I have to. Because my battle with anxiety is lifelong and it is difficult. The last thing I need is the pressure to leave that part of me out of my parenting game.

You can do this mamas. You can. We can. We will!