Sometimes I feel like my life is like this picture. A blur of activity and motion and time passing, with no clear center or focus.  (The picture is actually the result of a baby grabbing the camera to prevent his picture being taken and photographing the foliage overhead instead.) It’s September.  The kids are back in school. Patrick is nine months-- nine months!!-- old.  My first anthology for Cleis Press has been on the shelves for two months and I’m getting ready to submit my second collection and start planning the third. Jay has been home from his umpteenth deployment for going on four months (though he’s been out of town for about a month of the past four). We’re going to celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary in a month.

Time is passing. Quickly. And I’m trying to stop and look around once in awhile, as wise young Ferris recommended a crazy 24 years ago, but it’s just so darn hard sometimes.  The days are a blur of activity and routine and squeezing in just one more thing before bed.  Baby milestones to record and stories to write and diapers to change and laughter to soak up and lists to make and plans to plan and phone calls to return and precious few hours of sleep to recover from it all.  Oh, but life is good. So very, very good.

I spend a lot of time contemplating the future that is rushing up on me, rather than simply enjoying the present.  The next book, the next story, the next milestone, the next doctor’s appointment.  Do I want another baby?  Or a Ph.D.? Or a M.F.A.? Should I go back to teaching in the spring? Do I want to edit another dozen anthologies or do I want to write my own novel?  Family trip to Chicago or Disney World next year? Can I swing a fun trip on my own in the fall?  When can I revisit my beloved London? Should we move to a new city/neighborhood? When? Will Patrick be ready for Montessori school at two or three? Remodel the kitchen first, or the office/playroom? So many questions. It’s a wonder I get any sleep at all.

The days still pass, oblivious to all the things still left on my list to do.  Slow down, slow down, I tell myself.  Enjoy this moment.  This one right here.  Enjoy it!  And I do, I swear I do. I ignore the nagging guilt that I still have so many other things to do and accomplish and, hey, I’m not getting any younger thoughts, and I enjoy the happy moments as they come. Sometimes, I even revel in them, letting that knot of ambition coated in guilt and anxiety slowly loosen so that I barely notice it at all.  And then I catch my breath and think, oh yes, this is what it’s all about.  A summer’s day, a blanket in the grass and the loves of my life.

This is what life is all about.

Posted by Kristina in Life at 03:16 PM Permalink Leave a comment

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.

Posted by Kristina in Life at 03:43 PM Permalink

The always inspirational Shanna Germain shared an “is in love with” post on Facebook, which inspired me to write the following:

Kristina Wright is in love with: her pretty pink pedicure (polish name: Naked); the lush sensuality of Pablo Neruda’s poetry; the freedom that having a fabulous babysitter brings; the starting-to-bloom azaleas and other spring blossoms; the promise of a happy, creative spring; and the sense of returning self...

Not a bad list, is it?  The pedicure is my first since September, when my belly was already huge and baby was still three months from being born.  Much needed, it heralds the beginning of spring and warmer days.  As I was enjoying this little bit of pampering, I was thinking how it was just like that last pedicure, except my beach-ball stomach is gone and I’m now somebody’s mother.  Weird.  Wonderful.  Weird. I do love that I picked a polish called Naked.

Pablo Neruda has been on my mind lately, since Neve Black shared her passion for him on her blog.  I’ve blogged before about my love for Nerdua’s poetry… lush and sensual.  Ohhh… I do love Pablo Neruda.  I haven’t seen the movie Neve recommends-- Il Postino-- but I think I must.  This poem seems particularly fitting for spring:

Ode To Enchanted Light

Under the trees light
has dropped from the top of the sky,
light
like a green
latticework of branches,
shining
on every leaf,
drifting down like clean
white sand.

A cicada sends
its sawing song
high into the empty air.

The world is
a glass overflowing
with water.

Oh… how can you not love Neruda?

Speaking of spring… the azaleas are beginning to bloom and that always makes me smile.  The blossoms are fleeting… like spring in the south… and to be enjoyed for the brief time they are here.

Spring brings renewal in mind and spirit and a returning sense of my own identity in the midst of motherhood.  I’m writing again and it’s like I’m just now discovering what it is to be a writer.  I’m finding myself pulled in new directions creatively, driven to reach farther that I ever have.  It’s nice to feel the pieces falling into place, in a way that is more natural than anything I could have imagined. I still feel a twinge when I leave Patrick with the babysitter he adores, but it’s not a bad feeling anymore, it’s a reminder that I am somebody’s mother.  I can still leave and be me… alone… for a time, just like always.  I am still me… I am now Mama.  Everything is the same… and everything is different. 

It’s a grand adventure, this parenthood thing.  No one told me about that part.  I heard the rainbows and flowers part, but I never heard about the adventure of seeing the world and life through new eyes.  It isn’t all rainbows and flowers-- sometimes it’s hard as hell and I still have to do it (and get up tomorrow and do it again), but that’s what an adventure is.  It’s twists and turns and not knowing what’s going to happen next and crazy-making moments and moments of quiet, intense perfection.  A grand adventure.

I’m in love with a life overflowing… and this smiley, goofy little face.

Posted by Kristina in Life at 02:28 PM Permalink

It is raining the proverbial cats and dogs right now, but there are flowers blooming in the yard and the grass has turned green and despite the fact that the whole world looks gray and grim at the moment, spring is here.  I’m so ready for the season and I feel like I have been waiting so long for it to arrive.  The holidays were a strange mix of emotions and exhaustion, leaning more heavily toward sadness and depression than I would have liked.  But now… oh!… even this dreary weather can’t take my spring away! 

Jay will be home in less than six weeks and I’m already thinking about the party I want to have when he gets back, but I’m not sure one party is going to do my happiness justice.  I want to cook and bake and eat and play with babies and lounge in the sunshine and talk and laugh with friends.  I want to open the windows and listen to the birds sing and joke with old friends and make playdates with new friends.  I want to bake cupcakes and decorate them with spring colors.  I want to make pitchers of strawberry lemonade, as sweet as the days to come.  I want to plant flowers in the yard and in pots on the deck and buy bunches of flowers for the house so I’m always surrounded with spring colors and scents.  I want to buy Patrick an adorable romper to wear.  I want to stay outside until the fireflies light up the night and I want to sleep with the windows open on sheets that smell like spring.

Four months ago, I wasn’t sure how I’d survive winter alone with a newborn.  I thought for sure I’d lose my mind.  I did better than I thought I would-- and it got surprisingly easier than anyone even told me it would-- but I’m so glad winter is behind me.  That blur of cold, dark, tiring days has made me appreciate this spring so much more.

Posted by Kristina in Life at 11:59 AM Permalink

I’m utterly wiped out this week.  I think it’s a combination of not having babysitting for a week, sick puppy issues. trying to get a bunch of work done, which kept me up until 1 AM more nights than not, and what might be Patrick’s four-month growth spurt.  All of that combined has me feeling not only tired, but a bit sick. Blah.

Despite not having a babysitter for the first 2 months of Patrick’s life, I seriously missed Ashleigh last week. It’s amazing how much of a difference those 20 or so hours each week make to my mental well-being.  Though she’s been back since Wednesday, I’m still feeling a bit out of sorts.  Short on patience, a little snappish, just plain tired of the endless routine. 

I was moving right along and doing just fine until Saturday night when Henry suddenly got sick.  I thought it was the end of the road for the fourteen year old dog because his symptoms came on suddenly and seemed rather dire-- hardly walking, staggering and falling when he tried, vomiting, refusing to eat.  Of course, it was the weekend and my vet was closed, but thankfully I’m friends with my vet after years of monthly (and often more) visits.  I called her and we decided to watch and wait until Monday, unless he got worse.  Thankfully, he stayed the same and the verdict on Monday morning was an inner ear infection.  Once I knew that, it explained the balance and vomiting issues.  He’s still not himself after almost a week-- which has added a host of chores to my daily routine, including carrying him downstairs, guiding him outside and doling out several meds that he refuses to take-- but he’s definitely feeling more like himself.  Poor puppy.

The work has been a bit of a saving grace, even if it keeps me up too late and causes me to lose sleep.  I got the galleys of Fairy Tale Lust proofread and returned, I wrote that long story last week and wrote and pitched another anthology idea earlier this week.  There are a bunch of April 1 anthology deadlines and I’m working on those.  The writing keeps me going when other things don’t, so I can’t complain too much about the lost sleep.  I wish I could nap during the day. It might make life a bit easier.

And as we approach the four-month mark, Patrick is being a little more vocal and demanding.  I’ve read that in addition to a growth spurt, 4 months also marks a period of “sleep regression” where babies who were previously sleeping through the night might go back to sleeping only 3-4 hours.  That hasn’t happened yet (and I wouldn’t mind at all if Patrick skips this particular milestone), but he has been having a bit more difficulty going to sleep.  The only “cure” seems to be for him to babble loudly, almost bordering on a yell, until he finally puts himself to sleep. It’s amusing, but it also jangles my nerves because I don’t like loud noise.  It’s only been going on for a couple of days, so hopefully it’ll pass quickly and he won’t also start waking up in the middle of the night again. I can’t imagine how much more tired I can get.

Next week should be better.  I have a full week (20 hours) of babysitting, which will certainly put me back on track mentally.  Henry is recovering slowly but steadily and should be back to his normal self by this time next week.  Patrick has his four-month appointment with the pediatrician on Thursday, so I can find out if this rash/eczema he’s experiencing requires something stronger than OTC cream, which doesn’t seem to be working, and also get some reassurance that this growth spurt, or whatever it is, is normal.  The writing deadlines will be nagging at me through the week, but maybe I’ll manage to write a new story or two.  And on Friday, Sheri is coming for a quick weekend visit!  I know she’s mostly coming to see Patrick, but just having her around through the weekend to hang out and play-- and help me with Patrick-- will be wonderful.

So, the goal for the weekend is to try to squeeze in a nap or two to get back some of my energy, do as much writing as possible and cuddle with the baby, when he isn’t busy serenading me with baby yells. 

Posted by Kristina in Life at 02:26 PM Permalink