[1] Momming with Mimi l The Beginning of Something

The Beginning of Something 

Somewhere deep beneath the spit up, buggers, tears (yes, I cried today and admitting that feels awesome) and ketchup smeared all over my semi-semblance of an outfit, a part of me is coming to life. 

I've been feeling for a long time now that I'm not truly fulfilling my potential with LadyMama (which is an easier way to say not fulfilling my potential in general). Even though people like to think I have a popular blog (I get called "LadyMama" in the street. Very interesting for my husband), this little blogger space sits miles away from the aspirations I had for it to be a tool to awaken my own personal conscious and share my discoveries. I had really hoped that I would entice other women and mothers to join me on my daily ride as a mom striving to stay smart, stylish, spiritual....and sane. I wanted to open up, to share and to truly use my life as a platform for involving other LadyMamas out there in a public discussion we were all privately having. But alas, life got busy. And my amazing authors have been entertaining and inspiring my readers so well! 

But here I am, post-Rosh Hashana, feeling the magnetic pull of the potential in this moment. Sitting in a dim and quiet apartment, writing away, to the chagrin of all the things I am ignoring (like dishes from last night's dinner, which will tomorrow become "dishes from two nights ago."). 

The baby just woke up. I let him cry for a minute—because I'm in a flow!— and now he's quiet. Is it normal I didn't go running to his rescue? Is it crazy to admit that the feeling of writing right now is far more glorious than the ego-boost, the answer-to-responsibility, the coziness of comforting his cries? Is something wrong with me? What is it that I am craving so much in the experience of writing and expressing and publicizing my thoughts? Do any women out there relate? Why does sitting and blogging feel so much more...more epic than doing something so unadulteratedly motherly? [So this is the Jewish mother's guilt!]

I guess the baby did interrupt my flow. But we've come full circle. I was speaking about sitting down to write, even though there are things I am ignoring—and then the baby became one more thing I am ignoring! 

Which is why I am still here, feeling the high of having written something semi-coherent after all. I guess you have to ignore everything sometimes (even the guilt) to tap into a little piece of yourself. 

Life is complicated. We're all a bunch of busy bees trying to actualize our potential. We're juggling many jobs, many roles—just trying to keep our s#*! together. We're on a roll and then the baby wakes up and then we have to struggle to find our bookmark, wondering all the while why it can't just be simpler and easier and then somewhere in between finding the centeredness to feel sort of grateful to be given the lives we have. 

Some days we take a step forward and feel like we've conquered the world. And others days we're driving backwards with the speed of a racehorse. It's all part of the beautiful chaos that I will hopefully succeed in blogging about, with honesty and humor. 

So here's to beginnings—and the strength to see it through.

Now, aren't you going to ask why I cried today? (Stay tuned.) 


With love from a modern matriarch,