raw. beauty.exhaustion.
This month.
I can’t write. I can barely form words. I smell like a mix of B.O., espresso, and hot buttered popcorn (breastmilk poo). It takes me 2 hours to leave the house. I lock myself out. I forget diapers for one of the two in them. My shirt is on not only backwards but inside out as well. My kids teeth have not been brushed in 24 hours. Mine in 48. I have exactly 3 pairs of pants that fit. My hands look like my mothers, veiny and wrinkly. Let’s not talk about my eyes. When I don’t take my placenta pills things start to spiral out of control, just like when I forget my oils, my vitamins, food and water. When I do remember to eat and drink and encapsulate pills for a fews days, my life is good. Beauitful. Raw beauty. Stripped down to the center of all existance I have to tap at the neverending flow: Love. Because in the end, the driving force behind all this; the procreation, the manifestation, the isolation, the exhaustion, the challanging path of mother/child communication, is love. It’s all for the love.
Days are still fragile. We all transition and allow moments of melt-down, hysteria, silliness, saddness and heaps of hour long group snuggles on the floor. Chocolate chips and small cups of whip cream and sprinkles help, too. One moment at a time, I breath.
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My newest daughter’s name is Zaida Dove, as we annouced over a month ago. Since then it’s changed about 3 times. Echo Dove. Zaida Echo. Zadie Echo Dove. And finally, again, Zaida Dove and Zadie for fun. I have never had a baby whose name was so mysterious.
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Four and 1/2 might be the most fucked up age besides 21.
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Zaida is sensitive to Soy and Dairy and I can’t eat either.
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My house has never been such a mess. There are smashed blueberries from last week still on the kitchen floor. The baby’s room has turned into the Closet Room. Looking for clean clothes? Go in there and dig through the pile on the floor. We haven’t had TP in 2 days. Sula is out of diapers, not because she is ready, but because I keep forgetting to buy them for her.
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I AM NOT a bad mom because I stopped using cloth diapers on the baby last week. I am not. I refuse to feel the guilt. The laundry was fucking drowning me. Period. I’ll go back. I always do.
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I have found a wrap way better than the Moby and I never thought I’d say that. Don’t know the brand. It was a gift. Go here (www.lyonmom.blogsome.com) and ask her because she’s responsible for my new obsession. I want one in every color.
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One top of it all, we’re trying to search the surrounding 30 mile radius to buy a house on some land. I drive around in the mountains alot looking and listening to Kanye West while Sula screams for Joan Jett. It’s an ongoing argument. Her and I both get stuck on one sound and we just don’t budge. Luckily I have control of the IPOD. Nothing against Joan Jett. I mean, I’d be the mother of her kids if she’d only ask me. But I’d also do the same for Kanye, and he’s so damn literary. Hot.
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It’s official. I’m a mom. I drive a caravan. My beloved Subaru is no longer mine. I know own a seven seater/14 cup holder silver bullet of can. That thing can go fast. Kinda impressed after I got over the fact I drive a minivan.
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Washington State is insanely beautiful and I feel so blessed to be here. It is my home away from Om. And if I can figure it out, I plan on changing the subtitle to this blog from Constantly Searching For That Perfect Space to Creating Space or something like that. When I was out walking along the water yesterday I thought of the perfect line to change it to and now it’s gone, a glimpse of a thought.
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I am trying to create another blog which I hope can help lift me up and bring me wellness, a blog that chronicals my postnatal yoga (instead of focusing on the PPD, I am hoping to focus on what really works in lifting me out of tightness and into Space. It will include video, daily yoga lessons and lots of fun chanting along with my writing. The only problem is I have no time to make another blog. Or really practice yoga. So if anyone wants to make the blog and watch my kids while I practice…that would be sweet. Oh and someone to film me too. And maybe lend me a digi cam. Great. Thanks.
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I am truly falling asleep at the keys right now. All in all this past month has been heavy, raw, overwhelming, and so perfect. Just perfect. When all else gets to me, I just tap into that love, or try to. Picking up the baby and breathing her in, accepting the force that she so freely offers and hoping to give to her as well is where I find the strength to keep it going on.
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no time or energy to spell check.
Some photos of the past couple weeks….
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sisters…
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presence
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dont ya cut off mi dreadlocks…
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self portrait because i thought it was a good day…
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I love you. That’s all.
Comment by Jane — March 14, 2008 @ 1:45 pm
It is all for love and it is all love.
And you know what?
I love you, three pairs of pants, un-brushed teeth and all.
Sending you love and light.
Comment by bella — March 14, 2008 @ 2:11 pm
I hear you mama - Sam is 8 months old and I still have only 3 pair of pants that fit me, and it takes us at least an hour to leave the house…
sending you love and strength and patience…(and if you email me your address I will send you a new wrap that I am making)
Comment by Chelsea — March 14, 2008 @ 2:41 pm
MB- sending you positive vibes from the desert. As I sit here waiting for my own #3, I can hear your voice. It resonates with me and echoes my sister (mom to #3 in Dec). I also have to agree that 4.5 is a crazy age - E will be 5 next month and it is still insane!
Comment by Heather — March 14, 2008 @ 3:04 pm
I feel your joy, love and pain. Mine are 4 1/2, 2 and 8 weeks. Won’t waste your time but the link to the wrap would not work! Could you hook me up? I love my Moby but got to see your find!
Comment by Rose — March 14, 2008 @ 3:05 pm
oh god. oh god. oh god. om shanti. om shanti. om shanti. thank god for the love amidst the exhaustion and smelliness and shattered fragility of falling into two-dome with your babe after ten months of one-ness.
can’t wait to meet her. to see you all.
soon come.
more on that later…
Comment by brooke — March 14, 2008 @ 3:31 pm
wow, this line got me: “Home away from OM”. THAT should be your blog tagline.
YOU are the most radiant, beautiful “mess” (in your own words…) I’ve ever seen and known. I love messy. Messy is my life. Messy mixes it ALL up. Messy is the new clean.
Just wait, girl. Summer will come to that beautiful WA soon and make even MORE delightful. You’ll be rolling in the grass and cavorting in the water soon.
Happiness.
PS WORD! You are not a bad mom for disposables. Not not not.
Comment by MereMortal — March 14, 2008 @ 4:53 pm
I have MISSED you, MB. I check every single day to read new words from you, hoping you’d update. I am glad to hear you are living. It is hard, it is. And no, you are not a bad mama for any reason you could ever cite, ever. The coming spring will wrap everything up for you and at the same time, let you free into the world to enjoy all you have and it, too. Hugs, hugs - if you ever need to commiserate on ‘3,’ I’m here via e-mail. It will get better; things always evolve. I agree with L: your tagline seemed to appear within the text of your post here; lovely - just as you are, and your girls…XO
Comment by Joanna — March 14, 2008 @ 6:44 pm
Crap, my response has been used already. But I’ll say it anyway … I love you, my dear. This is life, isn’t it? Living, breathing, surviving. Down and dirty and gory. Sending you boundless strength and light.
Comment by gearhead mama — March 14, 2008 @ 7:47 pm
P.S. The pictures of Sula and Zadie made me cry. In just 7 weeks (plus or minus a few, but hopefully minus), my beautiful M will be a big sister too. My heart aches for her because I know all the changes that will come and oh, how I am treasuring these last bittersweet days with just the two of us; but my breath is also taken away by the new love that is coming into her life.
Comment by gearhead mama — March 14, 2008 @ 7:51 pm
i can taste the love and the frustration and the sleeplessness and the chaos, and my own memories of ‘om-lessness’ flood over me as i read you. tapping into the love sounds like a good remedy, Dr. Bach’s never hurt either!
..and i thought of this the other day, it was inspired by a children’s show my toddler was watching, and reading this particular post reminded me of it ~ you can’t see love, but you can see what it’s doing.
peace new momma,
Lil xo
Comment by Lil — March 14, 2008 @ 10:13 pm
i’ve missed you.
your family is amazing. love indeed.
sending love and peace~
Comment by jouette — March 15, 2008 @ 2:33 am
(sigh). I feel like I just had a kindred moment with you. I so totally GET this. SO much of it, you have no idea. I was smiling the whole way through…part happines, part exhaustion, part acceptance, part knowing, part strength…ALL love.
Messy is beautiful. Messy is life. We are all a mess when we are honest enough to admit it. I love messiness!
And holy crap…you are gorgeous!
Keep breathing. Keep surviving. Keep loving.
(my favorite picture is of your babe and her dreads…saweeeeet!)
you are beauty!
Comment by jessamyn — March 15, 2008 @ 3:36 am
So glad to hear your voice. And to feel the vibe of crushed blueberries on the floor and forgetting diapers and walks along the water and drives in the mini van with kanye west and joan jett. I, also, love a good mess. I’m having a time, myself, with just ONE. I think of you all the time. And the wrap is called The baby wrap. Love you so much, C
Comment by Courtney — March 15, 2008 @ 4:35 am
Actually, I just did a search on google and I don’t think it’s called just the Baby Wrap. What does it say on the pocket part? Mwa (that’s the sound of a kiss).
Comment by Courtney — March 15, 2008 @ 4:40 am
I should take photos of my disastrous home for you. And I only have one kid and a stay-at-home husband.
The photos are beautiful. YOU are beautiful!
xoxo
Comment by Sarah-Ji — March 15, 2008 @ 6:07 am
You capture this time so well. All I could ever muster was slapstick and I’m sooooo tiiiiiiiiired. Took me over a year to speak of the darkness. The tunnel, as I grew fond of calling it. In and out of the tunnel. And so it was. Such a beautiful time despite the craziness that goes along with it. So raw. So HUMAN. Dare I say, I miss it a little?
Comment by Ninotchka — March 15, 2008 @ 2:28 pm
Even in the midst of everything crazy, you still sound so calm. I know it doesn’t feel that way sometimes, heck, most of the time, but you have such a wonderful presence (even through the computer screen).
And heck, I hear you on the dirty floors. Mine are a disgrace.
Much love.
Comment by Awake — March 15, 2008 @ 6:04 pm
The third was the hardest for me in the first few months. Not the baby — not at all. It was all the rest. So glad for you that the placenta is helping.
I love the name Zadie. One of my children was almost a Dove… but turned out to be a Lark instead. My great-great-grandmother’s sister was named Echo, and it was on our short list of names.
Comment by Linda — March 16, 2008 @ 11:48 pm
I love the way you write and the way you LIVE… I may be having my own #3 this week (high blood pressure - if it gets higher, I’ve got to go straight to the hospital) about 5 weeks early. I’m scared and not ready and excited all at once… But enough about me - I loved the pic of Sula and Zadie - SO ADORABLE! And where did the name Zaida come from?
Comment by SS — March 17, 2008 @ 9:21 am
I have missed your writing. As a sister in PPD, please please don’t miss the placenta. Try to remember to use that!
Thinking of you!
Comment by Spacemom — March 18, 2008 @ 5:34 pm
I love and miss you so much! Your girls are as beautiful as you are.
Comment by Doulala — March 19, 2008 @ 11:22 pm
Just wanted to say, your children are all beautiful. Congratulations on the new babe.
Comment by jessica — March 29, 2008 @ 2:02 am