Sand and Water

Child #1 could spend all day digging in the sand. Filling and dumping and refilling buckets. Making hills and mountains and castles of sand. But she doesn't care as much for the ocean. She got knocked over by a wave on our first visit, and I made her go back in for the second visit so she had some fun experience in the water and didn't think you could come to the ocean without at least dipping a toe in.

Child #2 loves the ocean. She would have run straight into it till she was carried away by a wave if we had let her. Born in water, she's been my water baby ever since. She was happiest waiting for the next wave to wash over her. She didn't like the sand much because she didn't want to get dirty. She kept trying to wipe off my toes buried in the sand. She eventually did dig in the sand. But before long she wanted to splash in the shallow waves of the ocean.

Our New Neighbors

These little guys scamper around our patio. I'm still getting used to them. They often startle me because something that size that moves that fast with a long tail makes me think it's a mouse. I've convinced my girls that the little lizards are cool and my toddler sticks her tongue in and out when she sees them. They're both scared if a sparrow lands in the path ten feet away, but they're fine with lizards. Go figure.

Lost in Motherhood

A recent conversation made me remember my pre-children, even pre-marriage college days. Back when I was known as a femi-nazi (though you truly don’t have to be radical to be called that in a conservative religious town). When I got passionate about issues. When I dabbled in vegetarianism (aka, I didn’t like to cook meat). When I wrote poetry. When I didn’t wear a bra for about six years (pregnancy put a damper on that at the time and breastfeeding has put a damper on it forever). I was, in small ways, my generation’s version of a hippie.

For a moment, I wondered what had happened to my past self. Where did she go? Did she, as I had feared, get swallowed up in the role of wife and mother? My sister reassured me that I won’t feel it as much once my children are older and no longer need so much of my time. But I also realized that the hippie college student has simply morphed into the hippie momma.

I had a natural waterbirth at home. I’m breastfeeding my toddler. My baby wears an amber teething necklace that absorbs into the skin and aids in pain relief (it always sounds weird when I explain it out loud, but I swear it’s helped her). I use cloth diapers. I co-sleep and wear my baby in a sling. I made homemade baby food. Neither of my children ever took a bottle or a pacifier (I am lucky in that I have not had to leave them to work much since I had them). A fun family weekend activity involves going to the Farmer’s Market. I blog.

I did not lose myself. I transformed into myself as a mom (with a little bit of my mom thrown in—this morning I watched The Price is Right with my daughter and sealed the deal on that one). I wish I had more time and energy for me. I wish I could do Yoga without a child climbing on my head. I wish I still wrote creative works that could be rejected by every journal I sent it in to. Right now I feel lucky if I get to shower every day. But my life will not always be like this and when the time comes, maybe I can rediscover some of my old self. Just with less anger, less bad poetry, and a lot more cleavage support.

Oranges

Dear Florida,

Why do all your stores sell California oranges? Aren't you supposed to be known for your oranges?

Sincerely,
Baffled New Resident