Tuesday, August 3rd, 2010 • 4 Comments on Rambling Paths
I blink and a week has gone by. I think that pretty much sums up 2010 so far. What a crazy, unpredictable, maddening, wonderful year it’s been. So far. I feel like the year is mostly over, but there are almost five more months to confound, confuse and delight me.
Speaking of feeling like the year is almost over, I’ve started my holiday shopping, have you? (Don’t throw things at me, even virtually. Unless it’s chocolate or affection.) I don’t even know how it happened. Like other (good) things in my life, I guess it happened by accident. A perfect gift for someone becomes a holiday gift tucked away. If I can wait that long, of course.
Patrick turns 8 months old tomorrow. I never managed to write his 7 month letter, so I will spend some time tomorrow recounting two months in his young life. The time… oh my. He is amazing and awesome and all those other things that moms say about their kids, so I’ll spare you the gushing. It’s not all sunshine and roses, but it’s pretty damn close. At least for now. Crawling (and walking) is on the horizon and I’m sure there are trying times ahead. And good times, too. Did I mention my rotator cuff injury? My shoulder is jacked up from carrying the 95th percentile baby. Sunshine and roses and doses of Aleve.
The biggest thing I’ve taken away from this new mom thing? I’m still me. Wow. Maybe that’s not as big a thing to you as it is to me. But, crazy as it sounds, I thought the baby would come out and I would be… someone else. Maybe I am and I don’t know it. (Do the crazy people know they’re crazy?) Maybe I need to take a poll. But I feel like me and I seem to generally act like me, though I talk about baby stuff a lot more than I did pre-baby (which is to say, I never talked about baby stuff pre-baby, so any change in that regard was going to be huge), but yeah, there I am in the mirror each morning, looking and sounding and acting like me. Sweet.
Today is an old friend’s birthday. We’re going out to celebrate on Thursday. It’ll be a reunion of sorts. Reunions are nice, aren’t they? At least the kind you are looking forward to, and not the kind imposed upon you by family. This is the good kind. I’ve had a few reunions in the past several months, all good. Well, mostly good. Some reunions remind you why you were separated in the first place. But I’m a sentimental sort (hell-o, old car I won’t get rid of!) and I like that sense of not having to explain myself to someone who already knows me. Maybe that’s why I’m a fan of writing erotic reunion stories—you can get to the good stuff quicker. Hmm.
There are days that I look at my current life and am filled with an odd sense of surprise. Where did this child come from? How did it come to be that I am someone’s mother? I know the mechanics of it, of course… but could not have predicted this path for myself a year or two ago. I have planned and prepared and attempted to control my destiny, but much of my life has been unpredictable. Moments of serendipity, luck, coincidence. Going with my instincts instead of what I’ve been told is right or proper. Making my own path, even if it’s different than the path I thought I wanted. Making lemonade out of lemons? Maybe. Or maybe just being open to the possibilities the universe has presented. Saying yes instead of no. Laughing instead of crying. Living and learning and still being amazed at life’s little mysteries and people’s little quirks.
I wish I were a better writer. If I were, I could put into words how I feel. I wish I were a songwriter, because even mediocre lyrics sound pretty good when set to music. I wish I were better at a lot of things. I wish I were more. But at the end of the day and after all life has thrown at me, I’m still me. And that’s something.