Sacred corner

As I was putting N. down for her afternoon nap yesterday, I thought about all of the time and preparations we'd done in anticipation of what was to be our forever child with whom we hadn't been matched yet. 

Nothing has prepared us for parenthood as much as our adoption journey. Having to provide essays to questions such as: Why do you want a child? Why do you want to be a parent? How did you and your spouse arrive at the decision to adopt a child? If you could say anything to your waiting child and their birth parents, what would it be? How would you describe your childhood and how your parents parented you? How do you intend to parent/discipline your child? What are your strengths as an individual, and what are your weaknesses? What kind of parent do you hope to be? If your child decides they want to find their birth parents, what would you do or say? 

No, folks, no license required to be a birth parent. But much proof required to be an adoptive parent -- financial, physical, emotional, psychological, (non) criminal, etc. in addition to blue book responses.

Once we learned I was pregnant, I read voraciously on the natural childbirth/birth process, how to become a baby whisperer, nurturing in the first year . . . I still have the pile of books stacked up in our spare room. None of our 16 months with N. has gone exactly as the books have said. 

Nothing prepared us for parenthood as much as our adoption journey. The adoption journey with its highs, frustrations and meltdowns has definitely given us a lens through which to view parenthood. Even though our waiting child never came, we keep our hearts open to what the Universe has to offer.

As for our miracle daughter, she has taught us to accept possibility with grace and peace so that we might delight in our thoughts, in each other, and be renewed in Spirit.

My wish for you & yours -- May you pause and find that sacred corner in your heart, & may you be filled with Christmas all year round.

Time in (for me)

Various concerns race though my mind daily. Did N. eat enough? How can I get N. to drink more from her sippy cup? How can I support A. better? How can I make time to work on my resume to secure a part-time online teaching position? How can I be more positive toward the upcoming holiday events? Why am I so damn crabby when I'm PMS-ing? 

I desperately needed a time out. So in the midst of Electra, flurries afloat, I took a walk outside. No one else was out. A most welcome retreat from my constant worries, I stepped on the thin blanket of snow that would become a winter wonderland.

I headed on my usual path . . . down our street, up the hill past the homes always appropriately decorated for whatever holiday it happens to be . . . a mindful stroll overlooking the marshlands that hug the GSP. 

With each step, the wind blew. With each step, a tad bit brisk than the second before, the wind biting me to chill out. With each step, a less harried energy took over. No sun to make the snow glisten, but I tune in. With each step, just heathered stillness. 

Center thy self

Holidays acomin'. Need to feel centered. N. was up just a little earlier than usual this morning having awoken because she's soaked. Still haven't found a diaper that tells the truth and lasts 12 hours overnight.

A.'s working from home today. We've shared our breakfast omelets. I've had a little aloha coffee. N.'s down for her morning nap. I turn on the laptop and locate my go-to meditation. 

Despite the early biting cold outside, the mid-morning sun shines oh-so-warmly through the living room window onto N.'s alphabet mat. 

I sink comfortably into our couch. I gently close my eyes. 

Center thy self.

Another year is about to wind down. I have learned that mamahood is hard, real hard, real exhausting. But I wouldn't want it any other way. I have learned that I have many moments of frustration in the world of toddlerdom, and I have learned much patience. More patience than I thought I ever had. Moments when I tell myself to take a deep breath, N. also takes a deep breath. Amused, I smile to myself because she has actually learned how to take a deep breath.  

Thank you, Daniel Tiger and family, for reminding us how to take a deep breath when in the moment of madness, we just want to roar!

And yet another year is about to be full of possibilities. What will I do next to incorporate my working self into the new year? It's been a major concern as I don't want to have my skillset grow stale, yet not sure how I will find the time to be with N. and be productive in the world of (non-childcare) work.

Center thy self.

To keep my heart open to possibilities. My mind wanders . . . to online teaching . . . to freelance writing . . . to facilitating wellness workshops for women and youth . . . have to re-work my resume over the Thanksgiving holiday.

Center thy self.

I take a deep breath and remind myself to be in the moment. To focus on my heart. It is illuminated as I think of my Dad beyond. Two old family friends recently passed away, each of them fathers who have left behind legacies in their sons and daughter. I send their families comforting thoughts. 

I am warm in the morning's sunlight. My heart aglow, I am calm in the moment.

A moment of simplicity, patience, and self-compassion.