Today, I am grateful for the way some time on my mat can help me navigate the tempestuous waters of last week’s emotional overload. And since it’s Mother’s Day, I guess it is somewhat appropriate that a big chunk of that stems from stormy seas with 7 year old. As in, big trouble at school, the call-mom-in-to-meet type. Twice in one week. Which left me feeling quite lost at sea, and to continue the watery theme, in tears. A lot.
I’m not going to lie, I experienced the almost out-of-body moment where I had the thought, hey, are you sure you have the right kid? Surely we cannot be talking about MY child. And I had many moments when I wondered what people with more than one kid do, how is it I cannot even manage ONE? And so on and so on, monkey mamma mind at its finest. I bought a box of donuts one day, a bag of chips the next. (But I did also put in the mat time, or I’m guessing the stress eating would have been even worse.) Somehow, I stumbled upon this article, To Parents of Small Children: Let Me Be The One Who Says It Out Loud, that had me laughing through the tears and reading the following lines over and over:
You are not a terrible parent if you just can’t wait for them to go to bed.
Motherhood empowered me. It felt like I took off for the moon once I had my daughter. I loved and lived more intensely and passionately than I ever had before. But needless to say, there have been plenty of moments where I’ve wondered what the hell I am doing. And it takes strength to realize that that’s ok. It takes lots of moments on my mat.
Last night I hosted a girls’ night at my house that I planned weeks ago, before the drama with 7 year old and before husband got sick as a dog. I found that my frazzled edges softened as I spent the evening with other women, moms and non-moms alike, who nurture on a daily basis. We are in this together. We can help each other navigate when the waters get choppy. 7 year old had to miss the party and serve time with sick husband downstairs, as a consequence. And given the circumstances, that got messy and she ended up at the party anyways. Call me a bad mom for not following through, but by the end of the evening, somehow it had all worked out.
Motherhood can be messy. Sloppy kisses, spilled shit all over the floor and everyone’s clothing, red hot emotional intensity, getting called into school for naughtiness. I take all that messiness onto my mat, and when I’m done, everything feels neat again. Namaste, and a happy and sweet Mother’s Day to you.