21 June 2018

days as they are known.


we're settling in at home after a hop across the ocean and it's been a quiet, soul-filling stretch of days. aside from working our way through the anticipated jet lag, we're living simple hours that look like most others we live, now. where i once worked structured hours in an office and sipped coffee from paper cups and possessed such vernacular as commute and lunch hour and vacation days, i now tend our boy and keep our home. maybe in other corners of the world, this is nothing notable, but here in new york, in 2018, it catches onlookers by surprise. that i don't "work." that we don't have a nanny. that we don't send our laundry out or have groceries delivered. the work that i do between our four walls might seem silly or limiting to some, but to me, it is the dream. my dream. a lived dream that, however humble, will never feel small.

on delicious, magnificent repeat: i make bread and sip coffee from mugs and spin folk music and listen to podcasts that spark inspiration and give the apartment a good scrub on fridays. i chop vegetables for dinner and changes mountains of diapers and wipe streams of spit up and wash loads at the laundromat around the corner, my tiny assistant peering out from beneath his brimmed bonnet suspiciously, hilariously, as though he is on neighborhood watch. i negotiate nap times and navigate the complex emotions of a very small person. we sink into each other to nurse, hour by hour. we dance to the beach boys and i write when i can. we go for strolls, usually once in the morning and again before the close of the afternoon, and i call all that we see by name: roses and dogwalkers and rita at the espresso machine and central park busy blooming...

when bub gets squirrelly, we soak in the tub. taking him to water never fails. he gazes as his hands as though he's been gifted fistfuls of stars and naps in the big bed and laughs with his whole body as i kiss the pillowy rolls of his thighs, again and again and again. i make everything a song and kiss his fuzzy head with a mouthful of forevers and tell him about his papa and places we have gone and places we are going. i read poetry out loud and he blinks at me with shining, thoughtful eyes. my curiosity is his inheritance. these days are my kingdom.

14 comments:

  1. I had to read this post twice because it is so beautiful. I'm a stay at home mama too, though I lack your ability to always see the magic in my everyday (and day after day) tasks. But you're right, it is a beautiful work we do and a powerful one at that.

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    1. Hi Haley!

      Thank you for taking the time to leave your kind, beautiful thoughts!

      I believe so much what you say: that it's beautiful work and powerful work. I know that experiences vary between women and mothers, but for me and my life, I believe it to be the most important work I will ever do. That isn't to say that tasks are not sometimes repetitive and that days don't sometimes feel long, of course they do! That was also true when I worked outside of my home. But there is real, lasting magic here (to me, and I suspect also to you!).

      I wish you a happy, peaceful Monday!

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    1. I still mean what I said❤️ I have a lot of past trauma surrounding experiences of being painfully misperceived when I've expressed myself, and I just really didn't feel comfortable having all of those thoughts out there. I'm a strange and complicated person (really and truly, I am), but hopefully you'll understand.

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  3. This is so beautiful!!!! It is as if you were writing a melody that we can sing to. Thank you so much for sharing your art with us!!! I am grateful.

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    1. Hi Yésica!

      This has got to be the loveliest compliment ~ "a melody we can sing to." I'll be thinking of this all day long, I am sure of it, and feeling grateful that you took the time to share such a sweet thought.

      Thank you for reading along! I hope you have a good day!

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  4. Thank you for your words, Alexa. :) I admire your life and the way you extract joy from all the simple moments and pleasures it offers us. You have also inspired me to write more often about my own life, so thank you for that!

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    1. Hello, Donna!

      Thank you for taking the time to write me! I feel joy at the thought that, in writing about my own days, you've felt a bit inspired to document your own. Sometimes I am easily overwhelmed by the fact that no matter how much I write, I will never to able to sufficiently capture it all, as it really is, and especially as I meet new motherhood, time and mental energy can be hard to come by, as well. But anything is better than nothing, you know? And I am finding a new appreciation for the power of jotting thoughts and observations in my phone notes, as they come to me :)

      I wish you a good and peaceful day!

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  5. How lovely! I think it's wonderful you can soak up the time with your son. Your love for him and your new role is radiant.

    I hear so much about the awful state of maternity leave in the US - in the UK, it's normal for mothers to spend the first 9 months to 1 year at home with their babes, and fathers can have some paid leave too. I really feel for those who can't make it happen in the USA. It's heartbreaking!

    Love your words as ever.

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    1. It's so true, Louise. We were so fortunate that my husband's job allowed four weeks (two paid, one unpaid, one working from home) and that time together was absolutely invaluable, and absolutely necessary. It is important from many angles: parent-child bonding, the physical and mental recovery of the mother, the well-being of the family, all of it. Having experienced it myself now, I have so many thoughts on the subject. We have so much work to do here in the US.

      Thank you, as always, for taking the time to leave such kind thoughts. You are always such an encouragement to me!

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  7. What camera do you use? I’m thinking of going back to photography but I’m hopeless

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  8. I’ve been thinking about this post a lot, and how you are sometimes made to feel by those pointed questions. It’s interestjng, because I’ve had a very similar experience coming from the other perspective. Where I am made to feel like I’m doing something wrong by going to work. That I somehow love my daughter less because I am away from her working outside of my home. How lovely it would to live in a world where all mamas (and people) support all mamas (and people) and their particular choices. Something to work toward!

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  9. *Interestjing AND interesting 😂

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