how i got here: part i

A few night's S+ I sat with our backs against the couch in the living room as the sun set. Rowan was sleeping. The light blurred from yellow to purple to dark, and I lit a a tiny trayful of candles. The room and my hands still smelled clean and sweet from Rowan's bath and massage. We weren't ready to turn on the light. Outside, the palms and sweetgums blackened. I thought about how--even though I'll probably be awake at 2 a.m.--there's no way I'll actually make it outside to watch the meteor shower. And I didn't even worry about how that thought aged me.

Mostly I was thinking how great the light was. I clung to the mood, and I didn't want to turn on the lamp. The transition to night happened slow and smooth while we watched it.
So much unlike changing hemispheres and home overnight. Going from having a home to: uprooted. You can spend months knowing that you're about to move and change your life completely. But it's only visceral when that last flight takes off and touches down in your new local airport. You can feel the clods of earth still stuck to your toes. Those are the clods of familiarity, and they help you survive the replanting.

{sunny block abstract print by twoems}
But my eight-month pregnant feet swelled to ham hocks on the flight over here. Soon afterward, we went from being two to being three. You can only prepare for motherhood so much. And you don't have to switch hemispheres for it to transform you, utterly. When a mama gives birth to her baby, she inevitably rebirths herself. Clumsy and shock-eyed at first, she quickly learns she's a superhero (however irritable she may be on occasion).
When we did turn on the light, it was time. The change felt right. But I wasn't ready to lose that connection with my husband. Sure, I wanted to blog. But we played Mancala instead, skipping the tie-breaker game, cuz Rowan woke up. That means Rowan slept for a couple of hours straight, which is very good for him! (It's really time for us to do something about his sleeping. I just don't know what we'll be able to handle, but that's another story.)

This post really doesn't have much of a point. Except to say how slow or fast things move. And that all this stuff happens whether we watch it or not. Ready or not.

9 comments:

this free bird said...

The last part: have been thinking the same thing so much lately. transition can be difficult.

xo,
C

Hollie said...

Although it's not a hemisphere away, I feel the same about oklahoma. it's so bittersweet to me, because it was my home for so long. Leaving there was the best thing I've ever done for myself. And even though I always dread returning, the red dirt is familiar in a way like no other place. Ok, now I'm going to stop because I'm teary eyed and going nowhere with this. lol

bron @ baby space said...

Your words are beautiful. They remind me of what motherhood is really about. And for me, that is the point.

LyddieGal said...

Things are moving, and I'm not watching. I feel like its about time I took more notice, and jumped on.

Chic on the Cheap

E. Charlotte said...

You write beautifully. I like your comment on mothers reborn, and being superheros. Truth! And it's always good to keep your eyes open. Watch the world as it spins. Fast or slow, there's always something to see and remember. :)

Daisy said...

so very true.

Monica {bohemian twilight} said...

yeah, whether we watch it or not. the watching matters though... our choice whether it's anxious or simply awareness... tuning in.

LatteLisa said...

I don't really have a comment on this wonderful post, guess I just wanted to let you know that I read it.

OneCraftyFox said...

Beautiful. Amazing, isn't it, how one small change can make you think so many things?

xoxxo Diana

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