carrying it together…
January 10, 2013
“Remember when I nursed for 11 years and woke up one day and just couldn’t anymore?”
and
“Remember when we co-slept for 12 years and then one morning I decided it was over?”
and
“Remember when you worked that exhausting manual labor job to keep food on the table and never complained once and I took care of everything at home and worked side jobs for the first decade of our marriage (and complained a lot) and then we were completely exhausted for like 2 years?” I asked him.
“Yeah, I totally remember all that.” he said while folding the 13th load of laundry.
“Yeah, I kinda feel like that about everything right now. Now that I finally have a vision and plan for KindnessGirl after all these years, I mostly want to hang out, make new friends (especially artists) and take pictures of all of that and just love on people in RVA. …oh, and I want to not really take care of the house at all…like ever again.”
“I think you should do it.” he said. …and in the next breath, “Hey, did you just drop these on the floor?!” as he picked up a clean pair of jeans that I had indeed chucked when I decided not to wear them due to a food baby I have been growing.
“Haaaaa, I think I am turning into YOU and you are turning into ME!” …and that is sort of wonderful for both of us.
…because there have been so many days of way too early mornings, 13,000 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches made, late arrivals to preschool with disheveled children, heart shaped watermelon cuts, late nights of toddler acrobatic nursing sessions, taking on two more writing and photography gigs than I should, looking to find $2.43 in my checking account with 3 days away from pay day, waiting for witching hours to be over, dragging babies and small children to the grocery store in footy pajamas, wishing he didn’t have to work 80 hour work weeks and phone calls to sisters to talk you off some parenting ledge, and crying because it feels too big, just too much…and telling yourself that it’s all okay, because it is.
…and for every one of those parts of life that are hard, there are 10 more that are dear and good. …and some days you remind yourself you come from generations of privilege and tell yourself to shut-the-hell-up,
and other days you just cling tightly to those to get you through
and then other days you swim in everything good and feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
You still carry it all, because you are the mom. It’s your job, it’s the call before you and because you want to do it…you chose it…you really do love it.
and yet many days I felt alone…in the weight, in the beauty, in the warrior moments of love.
…but we will always do what love asks of us…and now I am seeing more and more, so will the people we love, the very same people that we have loved into the world.
*
It was a hard day all around, I was dealing with a bruised ego from some other life lesson. They seem to never end. I couldn’t quite find the words to say, ” I just feel so shitty about myself today guys, it’ll pass, it always does…”.
Instead I was quiet and sullen. I tried to rally with a trip to rock hop but Lyra had a head first meeting with the iron gate and couldn’t quite recover from a swollen eye and so offended such an object would hurt her. She then stepped in a huge hole in a rock and was muddy waist down, this sent her over the edge.
The whole crew decided they didn’t want what I was planning for dinner and begged for something else. I was too tired to hold court and was secretly relieved to get a trip to the grocery store by myself. It’s totally a new experience to finally have a child old enough to stay at home and have moments in the car filled with silence.
“Mom, can I do anything for you?” Josiah asked. I knew he felt me, even without my words because kids in middle school know the pains of bruised egos and life lessons.
“No…I don’t think so.” … because we are programmed to take care of our children, not our children take care of us. …and this is how it should be. But I pulled the ever the strong, I-can-keep-it-together and everything-is-fine matriarch schtick…which I think is probably a load of crap. …for all of us.
I shopped and returned home to find a bathed Lyra, watching a show quietly on the couch with a calm heart. …and Lucy and Josiah sitting at the kitchen table finishing her homework- he helped her do 2 days worth and write a story. More than I could ever accomplish at one sitting.
…and in that moment, like so many other moments both good and bad in life, I was melted. …because this was more than mother and son and family dynamics, it was about being human. He was helping me because he knew I was struggling, he helped because I wasn’t doing such a good job on my own, he was doing it because we are carrying it together.
He knows this, deep in his heart just because of the beauty of who he is, because of the pain of feeling less than at times, and because of our love, our imperfect and big love.
I feel less alone in some ways as I watch them grow into older, bigger people…and the wave of parental solitude will come again…but even then, I know….we are all human, we all know pain, we all love, we are all carrying it together.
Kindnessgirl 
January 10, 2013 at 1:23 pm
Yes!
January 13, 2013 at 7:36 pm
🙂
January 10, 2013 at 1:41 pm
Your writing is so poetic. When I read your words my mind seems to float around in different, beautiful imageries. You are special… You are a JOY to know. Thank you Patience!
January 13, 2013 at 7:34 pm
Oh, thank you Cindy! What sweet, sweet words. It is a JOY to have people like you here to hear me and love me and be part of this community. I am so grateful…
January 10, 2013 at 1:42 pm
You described the heaviness that comes with all of the responsibility– I too feel that. I try to think of it as the weight that grounds me rather than the weight that buries me. I love your blog! Thank you– CaraW
January 13, 2013 at 7:37 pm
That’s such a great visual about being grounded…thank you for that Cara!! Taking that one into my heart.
February 12, 2013 at 4:35 am
I love your writing Kindness girl, I shed a tear over this piece it resonated so much and CaraW – yes, I love your view of the weight. My life has so much more meaning now I’m a mama – and that IS grounding.
January 10, 2013 at 1:45 pm
Beautiful…touching…true…thanks for putting it in to words for us all to share =)
January 13, 2013 at 7:33 pm
thanks for being part of Kindnessgirl Angela!! Still trying to find the words each and every day…
January 10, 2013 at 1:55 pm
Lovely. And reminds us all to ask for what we need.
January 13, 2013 at 7:33 pm
hope i can get a little better at asking for what i need. …it’s good for all of us, isn’t it?
January 10, 2013 at 2:17 pm
I was up most of the night with a non- stop nursing baby. This is just what I needed to read today, thank you!
January 13, 2013 at 7:32 pm
I have been there sister… hang in there. ❤
January 10, 2013 at 2:29 pm
I love you Kindness Girl
January 13, 2013 at 7:31 pm
I love you April!! 🙂
January 10, 2013 at 2:54 pm
Lovely and poignant.
January 13, 2013 at 7:31 pm
thank you so much Connie!!
January 10, 2013 at 3:38 pm
This was worth reading just for the “food baby” line! Thanks for a good laugh and for your beautiful words. I feel your pain. Some days are just hard and those little moments of beauty and love and connection make them worth it.
January 13, 2013 at 7:30 pm
oh lordy, i do need to work on that food baby! 🙂 i think you are right, love and connection makes everything worth it.
January 10, 2013 at 6:21 pm
So, so good…
Have you heard Johnny Cash singing U2’s One? The fragility of Cash’s voice singing about carrying each other… oh my.
January 10, 2013 at 6:51 pm
Oh my gosh, Erin, I just heard Johnny Cash sing “One” while eating pizza with my daughter yesterday! I remember thinking that his voice was so fragile and beautiful. Oh, so weird because I kept thinking of it throughout the day and thought of buying it through iTunes.
January 13, 2013 at 7:29 pm
I love fragile and beautiful…
January 13, 2013 at 7:29 pm
I gotta hear it now!! thanks E!
January 10, 2013 at 6:42 pm
I Love reading your blog. It’s always so inspiring. With reading your blogs I have cried laughed and felt fulfilled thats hard to beat. Keep keeping on with your beautiful kindness.
January 13, 2013 at 7:28 pm
ohhhhh thanks Kalan! It’s nice to know you are reading along and joining us in this crazy life and love we hold together.
January 10, 2013 at 6:56 pm
So much in this blog, Patience. And as you said, parental solitude will come again – I am feeling it with a teen-aged son, a daughter who is now 21. My role has changed. In some ways, I like it, in others, I miss those little kid years. I often think of my role now and most of it is advice, guidance and whether or not they want to listen to it is up to them. We do the best we can and hope they will be okay.
January 13, 2013 at 7:26 pm
we DO do the best we can, don’t we? sometimes I think I hope they know the intention of my heart more than anything….
January 10, 2013 at 10:38 pm
What a lovely story! Obviously you both are raising a thoughtful son.
January 13, 2013 at 7:25 pm
oh thank you Annie…I hope so, although most days I find he is teaching me something.
January 11, 2013 at 12:22 am
Thank you for the reminder, we are not alone. None of us. We are all Carrying it Together. HUG from my heart to yours.
January 13, 2013 at 7:14 pm
you aren’t my friend…sending so much love your way. ❤
January 13, 2013 at 1:57 pm
I had a good well-needed cry reading your post… As mothers we do carry so much! I am in my car right now with my 2 year old who has a terrible case of hand foot mouth disease… While my older 2 are fending for themselves in the house… My baby is in so much pain and he fell asleep in the car and I just can’t bear to wake him. My husband is working all weekend again and I have been feeling so alone. Not anymore. I can’t thank you enough…
January 13, 2013 at 7:14 pm
oh, I am so sorry Shannon! I know those long weekends where the days run into each other…hope your little guy is feeling better and things are better in the morning…sending hope.
January 18, 2013 at 2:33 am
This one made me cry, but in a very good way. Thank you.
January 22, 2013 at 5:10 pm
thanks Patience for keeping it real and sharing the real with us.
February 18, 2013 at 9:38 pm
Oh my goodness, dear Patience, what you write so resonates with my SOUL!!!!!!!! With my life, with my heart. There is a poem being written in my head about just this…this being human thing…and how we are in this together…and it’s a spiritual thing too — how the god I believe in is one who ‘walks with’…who accompanies…NOT a god who is off in some clouds or a god who desires perfection. Anyhow, that’s still up rising up from within me.
But you here…you here capture what’s real and true within each of us. I have those moments with Brian where I’m like, “…do you remember when…..” ….and it’s followed by some other “aaaaaand I’m done with such and such.” And he goes with it. We remember. We are in this together. And then my little son or daughter come to me…they ‘get’ something…somehow without me saying anything…and i get a hand on the heart, or something that just melts me…and yes, i have those moments when i realize, too, we are allllll carrying this together. It goes beyond the husband/wife dynamic, the mom/child dynamic. It ebbs and flows between us…because that’s what we do.
Beautiful, Patience.
Love,
Lisa
http://www.barefootbarn.com