Party in My Belly by Robin Gorman Newman
Seth said the cutest thing this week.
We had gone out for Indian food, and he loves the basmati rice. After a few heaping spoonfuls, he gleefully declared,”it’s like a party in my belly.”
I loved his earnestness and delight. And, I thought, how well put.
How simply and articulately kids often express things. They are so in touch with how they feel. So in the moment and don’t hesitate to share what’s on their mind, for better for worse.
I’m not so good at that. I don’t always allow myself to feel as I do since I endeavor to be chipper, but I have my moods.
My perimenopausal hormones feel like they’ve been raging of late, and I’m feeling somewhat melancholy.
It doesn’t help that winter is upon us, and here in NY, we’ve been socked with two major snowfalls thus far and more to come no doubt. I have never been a winter lover, and I detest snow. So, weather like this makes me feel trapped and claustrophobic.
While it was nice having Seth and Marc home from school and work on Wednesday, our snow day, it felt odd at the same time. Seth was flitting from activity to activity, and Marc, in between shoveling, was trying to get work done. He was home but quite preoccupied….almost like he wasn’t here. I spent most of my time trying to engage Seth and popping into my office for quick e-mail checks when I could squeeze one in.
So…. I asked myself….what is it I want?
When I’m home alone, as I am typically, I feel isolated. But, here I was with my family present, and the day felt confusing to me.
When my hormones are running amuck, I am often at a loss, period. I want to feel good physically and mentally, but my head is foggy and I lack clarity.
I spent the afternoon yesterday writing at a friend’s home, and that felt good. It got me out of myself and out of my home setting. Being alone a lot has never suited me. Yet, the life of a creative soul can be a somewhat solitary one. I can’t help it that that’s who I am, yet I do struggle with working alone.
As I write this blog, in fact, I am somewhat scattered with my thoughts. And, it’s been that kinda week.
I guess I’m entitled. As a multi-taking mom, we’re often doing so much that it’s hard to think totally straight.
When Seth “moons” me and invites me to give his tush a bedtime squeeze, knowing it makes me happy (as he says), it reminds me that my “little butt boy” is getting bigger by the minute, and I try to savor these days.
We can’t always be on top of our game. And, that’s ok. While hard to admit, we’re only human. And, not every day is sunny, but we moms tough it out. Our kids love us just the same, so we should endeavor to love ourselves, hormones and all.