The Present of Presence
It’s January. I am awaiting my spinning class on Monday to have all fourteen slots full instead of the steady six or seven. My husband will probably come up with some type of goal that involves growing or shaving his beard. And my mom’s’ group will probably make us write out a resolution or two. This resolution thing is not my thing.
It’s not that I am against the steady stream of motivated people. In fact, I applaud their efforts and will gladly cheer lead those losing the pounds and training for that marathon. But for me, as a mother, I have goals every month of the year on an hourly basis and not always because of my own choosing. Get dinner ready, keep the baby alive, clothe the baby, clean the house, see my husband. These goals are mostly steady and daily (especially ‘keep the baby alive’ part!).
It’s easy to get lost in the minefield of mom.
To lose ourselves to tiny human beings.
But I think that’s okay.
In fact, my anti-resolution self is actually encouraging the idea of a goal this year. It’s a simple idea, really.
I want to lose myself in the daily moments with my son and growing belly (thank you, Baby #2).
I don’t want to be so preoccupied with the to-do’s of life. Instead, I want to be okay with a kitchen floor that is three days past cleaning. If we eat a frozen pizza because I didn’t make it to the grocery store, it’s all right. I am not insinuating that any of us make it a tradition to be lazy. But I think there is a blaring line between being present to the moment and ignoring responsibilities.
I have begun to try to bring my son into certain areas of my life that normally I would do alone. I allow him to help me put away the dishes from the dishwasher. This usually involves me sorting the silverware again and pre-selecting the knives out ahead of time, but what matters is his joy in helping his mother.
I am trying to remember that just sitting on the floor and reading a book in the morning is beneficial for both of us. I don’t want him to remember his mother constantly at her laptop writing and editing photos.
Time moves quite quickly and slowly simultaneously, I still can’t figure that out. But what if this is my last pregnancy? Did I enjoy any of the quiet moments of the first trimester where the exhaustion hit and I was napping while my son was? Did I remember that it was because a miracle was forming inside of me?
Our presence to our children is a gift.
So after this New Year’s I am not going to check in with you and tell you I ate 25% less sweets or walked a mile every day. Instead I hope to tell you that I have been present to the moment. I encourage you to do the same.