Like this:

My husband is a verbal processor.

I am not.

Ever since I was little girl, my processing has come through writing.  If you want a lengthy thought-out answer, it’s better to ask me to write it down than say it, though after six years of knowing my husband and with the time crunch two small children bring, I am better at the verbal bit than I used to be.  There just isn’t time to jot down everything that I want or need to say.

But I know that I think things through more when I write and I also know that I am more likely to do things that I think through.  That is why I have decided to hash out, at least a little, the why behind my 2012 resolutions.  Thank goodness I only have twelve, right?  (I’m pretty sure I don’t need to think through my resolution to not get pregnant this year.)  It would be different it I had thirty resolutions but this year I was so moderate.

So I’m going to take it from the top with resolution #1:

1.  Find things to do that will make me feel less like a mom.  These days everything from my hair to my clothes to my body to my activities feels blah and, well, mom-ish.  I’m glad I’m a mom but I don’t want that to be the core of my identity.  I would like to find things to do that I love that nurture who I am.  So far all the things that come to mind either demand too much time or money or don’t make sense with our stage of life.  At the same time, I really want to be doing things I love, even if there isn’t as much time to put into those activities right now.

Now obviously there are little physical things that I could do in this area.  I could find clothes that I feel good in, get a nice hair cut, spend less time working out in the morning and more time fixing my hair (I can tell you right now that won’t be happening) apply makeup in the morning, things like that.  I’m sure all of that would feel good to a certain extent, but I don’t think it gets at the right level.  I think that what I’m feeling here goes a lot deeper than wanting a cute haircut and a nice pair of jeans.

Ever since I was little I wanted to be a mom.  When I was in high school I worried that I wouldn’t find someone to marry and wouldn’t have kids.  I worried about the same thing in college, because surely I was supposed to finish college and promptly have children.  (Please insert getting married between the finishing college and child bearing.)  The thing is, even though I am “living the dream” that I’ve had for most of my life, even though I get to stay home with two adorable little boys who are overflowing with brilliance and cuteness, sometimes it’s just plain hard.

I have a friend who, in an email to me, signed off with, “Being momma is hard.”  And it’s true.  What I never would have believed growing up is that having kids is a tough gig.  It’s hard to not have the time I want.  It’s hard to have little people need me all. the. time.  It’s hard to be less selfish.  It’s hard to teach my toddler to handle his crazy emotions while simultaneously keeping a handle on mine.  It’s hard to think that this is a 24/7 commitment, but then it’s equally hard to know that some day my kids are going to grow up and leave.  It’s hard to know an independent person who I kept safe for 9 months is walking around and that something bad could happen to him.  It’s hard to know what to do or say at any given moment and there are so SO many moments during my day.

I grew up watching a variety of responses to motherhood.  Some women seemed able to be mom and still be themselves and others seemed like they got lost in it.  I think I’ve always sworn that wouldn’t be me.  I wouldn’t fall into the mom trap, but I think now that it’s harder than I realized.  It’s not like you smile and say: I don’t plan on doing anything I enjoy for the next 18 years.  It comes on subtly.  It’s the time crunch and the tiredness and the mundane difficulty of keeping up the house and cooking and shopping. Where is it all supposed to fit?  What has to give?  What gets pushed aside?

I think this might be easier if I really enjoyed stuff around the house.  I like cooking and I like a clean house but I’m not all over the sewing and quilting and projects that really seem to do it for some people.  Instead, when I think of doing something interesting or fun I come up with incredibly unhelpful ideas.  Foreign languages.  Ballet.  More time to write.  Choir.  Get an MA or a PhD.  Travel.  Do a two year Spiritual Formation program a few hours away.

Is my personal life really this incompatible with small children?  Or at least small children that don’t come with a nanny?  I’m pretty sure that the answer to that is no.  And even if it was, this is the path we’ve chosen to walk right now.  A path strewn with tiny socks that keep disappearing in the dryer and toy trains that try to cripple me.  I feel in a lot of ways, that getting the chance to blog once in a while and running both help me feel more solid in my identity.  In the last Runner’s World magazine I ran across this quote from a mom who has a son born with some severe medical issues and could identify: “Running is the only thing I have that’s mine.  To go sweat, breathe, cry in the rain, and scream or sing in the woods is why I love running.”  I get that.

I would hazard a guess that not being able to run during most of the pregnancy and after contributed, in part, to feeling down in general.  I was feeling lost and overwhelmed and just didn’t feel like me.  Now that I am running again I have noticed a pronounced shift in how I feel.  That’s great and all, but I just know that there have to be things other than running; fun things, things that I really enjoy that will be there whether or not I am injured.  So this is all a very long way of saying that this resolution is all about discovering those things and finding ways to do them.  After all, we do plan on having more children (child?) and my current ones aren’t college bound any time soon.  It is life with small children for quite a while yet.  I want to enjoy the time and the stages, but I want to feel like I have an identity apart from mom.

Plus it would be nice to find some cute clothes that fit.  That I will not deny.

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