Jane Was Here

Jane Was Here
acrylic on paper, 8.5" x 5.5"

This is a painting that I did as a memorial for a preemie baby back in February.

Why do I post it now?

I think because in a way, it relates to yesterday's post, about how what you do does indeed matter.

Jane was a lovely little girl and was loved dearly by her family, and through her mother's blog, Jane reached out and touched many, all over the world. They are still receiving cards and messages telling them that their little girl did indeed affect many. She was here.

Jane isn't here anymore, and although her life was so short, she mattered. Her existence mattered. Her very breath mattered. She was here.

We all matter. What we do affects others and changes them in ways both big and small. The struggles we take on to reach our dreams or to make the world a better place or to raise good people or create something to leave behind, or even to just simply survive... these matter.

Even if it seems there are too many endings, and too many setbacks, and too many good byes and too many heartbreaking disappointments...

It all still matters.

So there.

I have more words on the subject of how we matter, it turns out.

And if you'd like to follow Our Girl Jane and here about how she was indeed here, and perhaps even send her mom a postcard declaring Jane's existence in your life, I'm sure she would be grateful.

Talismans To Get Us Through the Darkness

Three more OOAK ACEOs (One Of A Kind Artist Cards, Editions & Originals)
Girl of the Deep Sleep
Girl of Something Being Born
Girl of the Storm Clouds
all Golden Fluid Acrylic and Watercolor Pencil on Paper, 2.5"x3.5"

Hi. I took the weekend off. Sort of. I kept painting, did some more research, listed a few things in etsy.

I have been totally stumped on the Flying Girls, although I have been trying. Finally, I just painted over one that I'd been struggling with and started over with a night time background over the sea. I did it in the very bright sunshine in the garden, and out there it was a vibrant blue, but when I looked at it last night, it was nearly black. Hmm. I may just have to let it stay the way it is, because garsh, I'm tired of struggling with that painting. There comes a time when you have to let go of an idea and say, it's good enough. And then move on.

I definitely feel as if I am in transition here. As if things are starting to come through, but before they do, it's going to get dark and stormy. Or maybe it already is dark and stormy, but the light is starting to show.

It's like that Buddhist saying, "It's always darkest before the dawn."

If you look at the Girls up there, you can see this story, too. In order of painting, it is Storm Clouds, Sleep and Born.

Storm Clouds is my knowing little Boricua, probably from Washington Heights (where my cousins used to live), and she's been through the storms. But that smile and that flower in her hand is a reminder that after the rain comes the flowers. She knows it's tough now, but she also knows that storms pass, and we are washed clean and energized by their trials.

Then theres pretty little Sleep, a reminder that we have to rest and take care of ourselves. Allow the night to rejuvenate us. Allow the dreams to rise and grow strong. Step back. Be quiet. Sleep.

And lastly, look how gentle Born is. I think she's about being kind to ourselves. Could it be a baby she is holding? It sure could, but it could also be a project, or a new path in life, or a beautiful new idea.

Are these ways we struggle through?

I think so. Are these talismans to get us through the darkness. I think they are. In fact, when I found out the prompt for Illustration Friday was "talisman," I was at a loss. Not because I couldn't think of anyway to represent talisman in my art, but because I was already involved in making art talismans. Or talismans in art.

Sometimes those are the most difficult prompts for me, when I am already engaged in the topic, I wonder, "well how can I use this to prompt my art?" But then, maybe I don't need to do something more, maybe I just need to relax into what is already there.

Yeah. So here are my talismans. You can have them for your own, here, and here, and here.

Flying Girl of Memories and Dream, or Dirigible

Flying Girl of Memories and Dream, or Dirigible
2/11/09
Golden Fluid Acrylic, paper 5x7"

Meaning here? I don't know. I was browsing the internet and came upon a picture of rooftops, which reminded me of the view out my back window when I lived on Driggs Ave in Brooklyn.

Somehow, a grown up Flying Girl did not want to fly through this picture. She wanted to be a child. And she looks like my little girl, although a bit older. Not only that, but this picture did not want to be vibrant or graphic at all. This picture did not want embellishment or ornamentation.

This picture is soft. I think it might also be because I have decided to not ask so much of myself right now. I've decided to step back on the novel so that I can focus on setting up the shop. The thought still makes my stomach twitch, that I could put the novel off. But I think this needs to be done right now, if it's going to be done at all.

Another thing about this painting, I think it's a reminder of the dreams I had when I was living in that apartment, some, oh my god, TEN years ago. I wanted children, and I couldn't see where or when they would happen. So here I am now, and they are here. The dream didn't know about the hard work or the sacrifices, so much, but it's still the dream.

Also, I don't know if anyone noticed this, but all flying girls looking to the future are facing the right of the picture. All flying girls looking to the past are facing the left. This is, I suppose, my personal language.

As such, perhaps the adult Flying Girl is in that blimp... I mean dirigible, which is such the cooler word. She's taking a little voyage back into the past, and spotting that girl, and her dream.

(interestingly, this painting could also fit for the Illustration Friday prompt of time, since it's all about memories and going backward and forward in time within our minds.)

My AiAi

Listen, I'm not picky. I take my wisdom any place I can get it, even if it's from the under two set.

Ivy has this new thing. A thing that could easily drive me batty. She has taken to coming up to me a million times a day and asking me, "Mama, whatchu doin'?" All day long, when I'm putting a spoon in my mouth or getting dinner ready or fixing a toy or writing. "Mama, whatchu doin'?"

After a couple days of this new trick of hers, trying to answer each question as it came, I decided I'd try to turn it back around on her.

"I'm eating/reading/making dinner, Ivy. What are YOU doing?"

And do you know what her answer was?

"My AiAi." Which in Ivy speak means, "Me Ivy." Every time I ask, same answer. "My AiAi."

I think she is saying she is just being Ivy.

What is Mama doing? A long list of activities to fill her day or feed everyone or get her somewhere. What is Ivy doing? Just being.

And that's good enough. I don't have to chase one more page of writing to be successful, or cook better meals or even enjoy each day to it's fullest. I don't have to be supporting my family with my art in twelve weeks or add one more thing to my list of tasks completed. I don't have to worry about what tomorrow brings or what I have to make right. I don't have write the greatest novel in the world. I don't even have to hit all my marks in my Portfolio Project. I just have to be me.

I found that intersected nicely with a podcast from Jen Lee and Jen Lemen on the Portfolio project, where they talk about beginners mind and and giving yourself some space for care and nurturing, and about it being better even if we don't make every project step to be so SIGNIFICANT. Remember it's a game, just as life is.

Here's a good quote from the podcast (although I am not sure which of them said it, since I don't recognize their voices yet and they both had colds.)

"It's really okay just to be. Just breathe. Do your work everyday for three months."
-Jen L. or Jen L.

And that's how it all gets done. It is a tricky bit of balancing, this committing to a thing while still allowing yourself to not be hung up on its doing. I have all intentions of completing it... but along with those intentions I am practicing the release of my expectations.

Oh yes, it's that trickiest of all Buddhist concepts. Non-attachment.

I'll keep you updated on how it goes.

Remember Your Dreams and Find Your Wings

Flying Girl Flies at Night or Remember Your Dreams
12/30/08
Golden Fluid Acrylic

So yesterday was my Fourth Year Blogoversary. It's hard to believe I have been blogging so long. Actually, I started the year before, but I've been with Warrior Girl for four years, and it began when I began my journey with motherhood.

I don't think it's a coincidence that I started this blog right before the new year. I think it was the New Year and the reflection that came with it that had me sit down and pay attention to where I had come from and where I was going. Thus Warrior Girl was born.

To mark that day, last night I sat down with my paints, something I hadn't done in a comparatively long time, considering my every day painting habit of the previous few months, and I let Flying Girl loose to wander.

Remember Your Dreams was what came out.

That's really what this blog has meant for me, I think. It came at a time when I had forgotten all those dreams I had once had, lost in procreation. Maybe these things don't happen to every pregnant and nursing mother, but to me they did. A big part of myself got lost. Two kids later, and four years, I think I've gotten back to myself, in no small part because of this blog and the community I discovered here.

Maybe it shows you how lost I was that I was writing this blog for 3 years before I even got a reader or two. It wasn't until last year around March where I really started putting effort into this blog, writing regularly, commenting, finding communities where something clicked, people who I saw as kindred.

That's what this year was for. And that brings me to the other painting I did last night. I guess I was ready to paint again after my Holiday hiatus.

Flying Girl Sends the Call, or Find Your Wings
12/30/08
Golden Fluid Acrylics

Yeah. That was this year, as I explored my creativity for the first time in 4 (maybe longer) years. It wasn't easy. It might look easy at the end point, when all you see is the output, but it took so much work, both mental and physical and so long, and so many baby steps. It's only when I look back at the beginning of this year that I can see how far I've come.

And I did. I looked at my journal from a year ago. I could barely read it. I had forgotten what I horrible state things were in. I was in. Sometimes, it is easy to forget how hard this year has been. I mean, really, really bad.

And I am so glad.

By focusing on positivity, on happiness, on beauty, on meaning, on lessons and productivity, on moving forward, I was able to gain so much more than I would have if I had focused on all the really sucky things that happened this year. I don't even need to give details, just imagine your own sucky things, or worse ones if you had a good year.

And I wonder also, if this year had not been so hard, would I have made so many leaps and bounds forward in who I want to be?

I say this, not to gain pity for my hardships or congratulations for my successes. I say this for everyone else.

It is possible.

No matter how bad it gets, there is hope.

You can come back. You can discover your wings. You can remember those passions, even if you have to go digging around in your childhood to find them.

So thank you for coming on this journey with me this year. I don't think anyone's been following since the beginning of WG, but there are a few who saw the start of my rebirth.

And it has meant so much to me.

I wonder where we will fly next.

Flying Girl Leads the Way, 9/24/08
Golden Acrylics and Faber Castell Pitt Artist Pens

I've been thinking about Flying Girl a little, (okay, a lot) and one of the things I realized from doing all these paintings and writing about them and looking at them, is that in reality Flying Girl (me) is not actually alone.

When I first came up with Flying Girl, almost, oh, TWENTY years ago, I was kind of alone. And my creative journeys were often solo journeys. Just me and my journal, you know.

But this is not the actuality of my life any more. And I am not solo. In real life, everywhere I go, I take my two littles. It is almost like the painting depicts and the boundaries between us aren't really there, connected as we are, inseparably.

Someday soon, I know my children will have more independence. They will fly on their own, but right now, they use my wings.

As for the painting of this, I had planned the concept out earlier. I've been thinking also about composition, seeing that I've kind of just been plopping these girls on the paper and seeing what happened, so this time I wanted to have a little more forethought in placement. I don't think I thought real hard about it this time, either, seeing as I didn't know what the horizon would look like.

It's kind of tricky coordinating the concept and the colors and the composition and the lines and the light and the everything. Doing this whole series is making me more aware of how many choices there are in the very simple idea of the Flying Girl Adventures. I'm also looking to challenge myself, and I am getting tired of the blue/yellow color schemes. And the pink is just not satisfying me. I rarely use purple so I thought, what the hey! I didn't plan that part.

In the end, I usually go intuitively, screw the plans. What color do I feel? Once I have a general color scheme down, what new color needs to be added? (This time it was green/yellow.) How does the brush want to be handled, sharp or soft? The horizon is almost always about meaning, an intuitive, mythical, archetypal idea that allows Flying Girl to learn whatever lesson it is that she needs next.

This time, I asked myself, (or was I asking Flying Girl?) where she was leading? And I imagined a long road, up into the mountains. But why would a Flying Girl Need a road? A difficult trip, made easier by flight? Now that I think about it, should I add in a thin, ribbon like road? It is a rather featureless mountain. I might still add a road. I might leave it be. I don't know. It's all a mystery, really until I get there.

Where is there?

That is another question I asked Flying Girl in this painting.

Do you know what she said?

Home.

Doodles and Scribbles

Here is one more piece in the Hand series. I should probably officially name it something more poetic, like "In the Palm of My Hand," or "Held in My Hand." Eh. Let me think about it. Right now, it's obvious it's a hand. So that's what it is.

This new piece is a collage using a painting that baby Ivy did. Crayola watercolors and Crayola markers on plain old white paper. Actually, I helped her paint. Sometimes it motivates them if I start a drawing out with a circle or a smiley face or a monster or a spiral. So those spirals you see there are my beginnings for her painting, which she then went to town on. I traced my hand and cut it out and then pasted it in my journal. And then filled the background doodles in plain old black ink.

It looks like it is just doodles and scribbles, but this was kind of an important piece for me. This is being mom. This is being more than being mom, it's being me. It's being an artist.

Symbolically speaking, I took my life as a mom, with my daughter's painting, and recognized that this is my life. That is why it is the hand. This is not only the life I have, this is the life I make. It is my story, as much as it seems that I have deferred my story for the sake of my children's stories. Can I make art of my life with babies? Yes. It is not as simple as it was when I was single, and would doodle a whole page while I was sitting in meetings or talking on the phone. Now, I barely have time or a free hand to doodle. If I try while there are kids about, they want to be in on it.

But that part of me, the freely creative, casually art making, passionate and dedicated thinker part, she hasn't gone away. She's still here, or maybe it's more that she has become me, who I am now. None of that intensity was wasted. Those doodles I drew are very close to what fills my notebooks from years ago. I reclaimed them.

I am right now, but I come from before. They are both part of me identity. There's really no point in missing the freedoms of being young and fancy free, and no point bemoaning the hard work of raising two young children... that, too will inform who I am to become.

Life is interesting. It is not one single painting that defines you. It is the string of painting done through out your life. It is the stream of artifacts you have left behind. It is the list of actions and choices you have made. It is a river and it doesn't stop moving, even when it seems to have been bogged down in the swamps.

I have been out of it for a few weeks. Stumped and unmotivated and not really wanting to work my way back into productivity. Some of it was external, but some of it was internal.

Something has lifted though, since then. I don't know what it is or what caused it. My brain has begun working again in a manner that it hasn't for three or four years. I am thinking up new projects. I am planning activities with the kids. I am filling my journal with paintings.

It's almost bizarre. For the first time in a long time, I actually have a back log of posts. I have pictures to post, some of paintings some of creative activities that I am doing with the kids.

This is the thing that is the weirdest for me. I have a degree in education. I wrote my thesis on integrating creativity into education. I was famous for artsy projects to help kids learn, sometimes even adults. And yet, with my own kids, I did almost nothing. I had no ideas, no motivation.

All of a sudden, I want to make cardboard robots and pop bottle piggy banks and I want to grow sweet potatoes in jars and make silhouette drawings of the kids and collage with them and melt ice with warm water and go on nature walks to make charts.

What the heck???? Am I finally coming back? Is it because I have been working slowly and steadily at bringing me back? (Those Hand paintings have served before as a ladder back to myself.) Is it because I allowed myself to STOP being creative and just rest and read and relax? Is it just a coincidence that my youngest just turned 18 months?

Hmm. I am actually a big believer on the toll that having kids takes on moms minds, spirits and bodies. I had no idea before how truly demanding it was. The hormones, the exhaustion, the attention. And maybe it also takes a while to learn the ropes of this mom thing. Whatever it is, I'm glad something has broken through, and I hope that by writing about it, I do not jinx myself. I am a big believer in jinxing, too. So.... *knock on wood.*

They Are Why

When I first got pregnant, my creativity disappeared completely. I mean, gone. I didn't paint, I didn't write poetry. I didn't write fiction. I didn't even watch movies that would make my brain work. The strangest of all, I barely even cracked my journal.

I mean, for ME to not write in my journal, my constant companion of the previous twenty years, was almost incomprehensible. In fact, I couldn't comprehend this new state of my being, and fell into a funk. I have since learned that much of my experience was related to brain chemistry and hormones, and actual BRAIN SHRINKAGE (with actual scientific proof and all). But even knowing that, I was at a loss of identity. I did not know who I was outside of being creative. Never mind that I was creating a human being, I didn't understand why I wouldn't be able to create a collage.

As time passed on and the baby was born, life moved on to being about, well, the baby. And figuring out all it meant to be a mother, to take care of a baby, of a house, of a relationship, of myself (yeah, right, I pretty much ignored that.) And then, even before I finished nursing the first one, I got pregnant again. In some ways it was better because I wasn't so shocked at my transformation, and in other ways, it was worse, because I had to take care of a toddler while being pregnant. I did manage to write a first draft of a novel in the few months of the second trimester (thank you nanowrimo and the fear that the impending second baby would make it impossible to ever write again.) Except for that novel, my creativity was pretty lame, actually. I would try, but whatever came out was so dry and uninspired.

I held on to the hope that the magic would come back. Mothers who had been there and done that gave me the advice that it would indeed return. The truth is, it's hard to be the mom of a baby and remain creative. It's even harder to do it with two kids only 20 months apart.

So this is the bad news, kids. Having children makes it much harder to be an artist. You don't have the uninterrupted time to ruminate and be creative, you don't have unbroken nights of sleep. You hormones go wacky and mess with your head and your moods. It's more pressing to make chicken nuggets than it is to make sculptures. Your world shrinks down to the needs of one drooling, pooping, gummy smiling little being. The world is no longer just about you and your journal and your pen and your paints. Sorry.

But before you despair, before you decide to hang up your ovaries and close shop on mommyhood, there is a creative upside.

Sure, being the mom of babies is hard. But once you get past the hormonal upheaval of pregnancy, post partum and nursing, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. And it's a complicated, powerful light.

When you are a mom, you have a reason to do the things you do that extends beyond yourself. Your creativity is no longer simply about your own happiness, it is about your children, it is about the world, it is about the future. Because you are creating the world that your children will live in, and if creativity is important to you, then you will be motivated to make it a part of your world.

You learn how to utilize what little free time you have. No longer will you fritter away your long and uncommitted days, knowing that you can create later. Now, whenever you have a fifteen minute stretch of uninterrupted time, you will jump to your sketchbook, your computer, your art. And you will not dawdle. You will get to work.

You will be inspired by your children. By the things they do, the things the say. By the things you do to make them happy. By their responses to your own art work. By what they look at and how they look at the world. Having children opens up a whole new realm of humanity to you, one that you only saw from the outside before.

Children make you grow up. In a good way. So many of the little things that stopped you before will now seem silly. Like your own fears. Or what the neighbors think. Or the desire to be fabulous and party. You have a new understanding of the things that are important, and if art is important to you, then the unimportant things will no longer pose such a barrier.

I get the feeling that parenthood actually has unlimited benefits, along with its difficulties (maybe because of its difficulties). These are the the plusses I can grasp right now. Does anyone else see how having children has increased their creativity?

Boys and Wheels

The Monkey Man has found a new love.

Mama, Papa, Ivy and Gabriel were walking down the street this weekend, when we passed a tricycle that somebody had put out on the street with a sign saying "take me."

Let's just say that G was quite enthused. So we walked to brunch, Papa pushing the stroller and Mama carrying Ivy in her carrier and pushing the new trike (thank goodness it had a push bar for grownups-- an invention that is genius). G couldn't take his eyes off of it. And when we got to brunch, we sat in the empty back room of the restaurant where he could explore the thing before we got our food.

He rode the trike home, so proud and excited, yelling all the way at the top of his voice.

All was well and good until we got home and he had to get off the tricycle and go upstairs. Or no, that's not precisely right. He was fine going up the stairs and all, but when we go into the apartment and he could SEE the tricycle, he started having fits. Crying. Screaming. Pulling the thing this way and that, knocking it over. Not even trying to ride it, not wanting to push it anywhere. Over stimulated, we thought. Too excited. We clamed him down with a sippy cup of milk and reading a book and brushing his teeth and washing his hands, since he loves to play in the water. Bed time came and that was that.

But this morning, the fits started again. First when Papa took the trike downstairs so they could go on an adventure, and then again when they came back upstairs. G kept yelling "mine! mine! mine!" even when we assured him he could keep it and no one would take it away from him. He grabbed it and pulled it to him and bonked himself on the head-- or so I assume, because he has the impression of a nut on his forehead.

He wouldn't stop crying. He didn't want to do anything with it. I asked him if he was scared, and he didn't deny it. I told him that he just needed to practice and mommy would help him whenever her needed it. Still tears though. Then I started identifying the parts of the tricycle and the tears went away. He kept pointing at the different parts and I would tell him what they were. Then he could get up and move on to something else.

It's so strange how little guys process life. He obviously loved it, but it scared him.... or maybe he just needed to know more about it. Is this the beginning of a boy obsession? Boys and things with wheels. My brother is going to love it, his only nephew following in his footsteps.

Wrestling with Mom Brain

So I'm taking the time that G is watching the Backyardigans to post in my blog. I am having trouble being productive, now, what with the toddler and the newborn. I haven't figured out how to get things done. I feel like there should be a trick to it, somehow.

Somehow, I have the feeling that it's about organizing my time and about building up a routine.

I made a promise to myself that I would revise my novel by the 15th of May. It was supposed to take me one month. I think I'm a week into my challenge and I haven't done squat except for printing it out.

You know, before I was a mom, I could take a whole week to focus on myself and go deep and explore my creativity and work my way up to the writing--- I no longer have that luxury. Not with diapers and making lunch and washing dishes and going to playdates and breastfeeding. And not with the way I collapse in exhaustion at the end of the day when they are finally both asleep at the same time.

So how to focus on the project?

I guess I'll take my tiny opportunities to do my thinking about my project... like during Backyardigans. Work up my writing practice in small steps. I really have to learn to take advantage of those free minutes I do have, instead of turning to some mindless time waster, like surfing the web or watching tv that I'm not even all that interested in.

One thing about having kids is that it can be really motivating. When I was in my twenties, there seemed to be so much time to get my career started I could play around and explore and practice. Now, I know I have limited time. I really do. Both during the day and in the future, because the kids needs are always going to be there, and they are going to be demanding.

I need to learn to use what time I do have and use it wisely. I have no time for the insecurites that plagued me when I was younger. I need to take my creativity as a business, instead of as the romantic life style it was when I didn't have kids.

What steps do I have to take?

1. I need a calendar with a schedule-- both for daily todo items and for whatever is scheduled for that day. Also for deadlines. I also want to be able to keep up with my household duties there, so they don't interfere with my writing time or my brain space. Menu planning, bills, appointments, even cleaning schedules. And I would also like to use it to keep track of my personal goals.

2. To focus in on those personal goals... I need to clarify my ultimate goal and set a deadline for it. Then I need to break down the steps I need to take to get there. Put each of those steps on their own deadline, write them down in my schedule, and take them as seriously as I would take the deadline for paying bills.

3. I need to set aside a regular time for my project. And I need to work on it during that time, no matter how tired I am or how many dishes are in the sink. However, if the kids mess up that time, don't go to sleep or whatever, that does have to come first. And then I have to be flexible and make up for that missed work time later-- no matter how tired I am.

4. I need to take my needs seriously. I need to not blow myself off for a moment of laziness. My REAL needs need to be prioritized over the momentary sense of ease, which is often about fear-- non confrontation.

5. Speaking of non confrontation, I need to ask for help. Firstly, I should request solo time from S. Mom needs time off. I shouldn't be the one who is always sacrificing for the family. Perhaps I should also be asking for my family to babysit sometimes, and not just when I have a doctor's appointment, but on a regular basis. If it were a regular schedule that my sister or father watches the kids, then maybe I wouldn't feel so awkward about asking them to sit. I do have to get over my discomfort with asking for help from others.

6. I think I also have to be forgiving of myself. Because, frankly, I am not at my creative best. I suffer from baby brain and can barely speak a coherent sentence, let alone write one. So I need to allow my work to be less than perfect, or I will never begin, let alone finish. Even if you don't have baby brain, you should release perfectionism-- it's stifling neurosis. I know, I've been fighting my perfectionism for years. I can use this rambling blog as an exercise in letting go of perfectionism. So expect babbling.

7. I need to make being creative a habit. Writing in my blog and/or journal. Maybe painting or doing collages might help. Listening to good music, reading good books, looking at art. You'd think this might be difficult with kids, but this can actually be such a great thing to do WITH kids, even little ones. Taking them to the museum or in and out of galleries. There are so many of them in my neighborhood, why don't I take advantage of that? Playing music, even non kid-music, while playing and dancing with G or putting the baby to sleep. Maybe I should also try reading more than just picture books to the kids. Fairy tales, chapter books. Or maybe I should remember that I love reading and make that my downtime, just before bed activity instead of the more mindless activities. I could make collages with G-- even though he is slightly young for it. Why be afraid of him making a mess? That's more of the perfectionism stuff. I could also do that project I recently heard of... Project 365, I think it's called, where you take a picture everyday to document your year. That's something that can be creative and incorporate the kids.

I tell you, even now I am confused... mom brain, or maybe even this cold I have. I have no idea where I have gone with this entry. Don't know where I started or what I have said along the way. And I'm going to leave it that way. I'm not going back to fix it. I'm allowing it to ramble imperfectly. Maybe later I'll discover I hit on something important.

Hibernation Over (hopefully)

I can't believe how long it's been since I've posted.

I guess I've been hibernating for the winter. Well, that and having a baby.

Ivy was born on March 2, and she was in such a rush she was born at home! Not intentionally. I actually was getting dressed to go to the hospital and had one sock on when she came. I was only in labor for about 2 and a half hours from the first twinge until she was born. Maybe if I hadn't been in false labor for a month, I would have left the house earlier, but my contractions had, until this point, all disappeared after an hour.

Everything ended up just fine, though, and if I had left for the hospital, that baby might just have come along in a taxi on the Williamsburg Bridge.

Since March 2, I've been recovering-- which has gone pretty easily, and getting accustomed to being the mother of two children under two years of age. I haven't quite figured out how to do it well, but it's not as bad as I was fearing.

I've also been suffering from terrible baby-brain. I can't recall common words, I can't speak in whole sentences, I can't read a book at all. Hmm, most of my difficulties have to do with speech and words. Interesting. Maybe that's the part of my brain that has shrunk. Or maybe that's what distresses me, since my life is all about words-- or it used to be. Now it's all about babies.

I'm hoping that now I've reached that six week post partum mark things will start getting better/easier. It doesn't hurt that Spring is here, even if it is cold and wet, it's Spring. Life wakes back up in Spring, and I'm aiming for the same thing to happen to me.

Viva la Springtime!!!