Being Mom
Everyone says my daughter has my eyes. "Smiling Eyes" is what they call them--and they are adorned with a bit of a mischievous twinkle and a shape to them that shows she's nothing but a handful of joy (and emotions that I didn't experience to the fullest with my son).
It's funny. I see the twinkle. And I see the air of mischievousness in them. And man, when she smiles, I see it in her eyes. But do they look like me? These days, my eyes look everything tired. And older than they have in years. It might be the lack of sleep. The stress of work. Or the entanglement of all of the family schedules into one and my frustration (and exhaustion) of trying to pull all of them together into one cohesive unit. Either way--I'm wondering what else I have passed on to my daughter. If I indeed have these eyes, I hope they are one of the good things I've passed along. As I have a whole slew of traits I hope she doesn't catch on.
My self-consciousness could be tossed out the window. I want her to be confident and sure of herself and her skills. There is nothing I could be more proud of--a daughter that knows she's got the right stuff and learns from others (that last part can be hard, but I hope that she is humble too). I also hope she stops and "smells the roses" from time to time. Being an eldest child, I rushed life. I wanted to be 15 when I was 12. And 21 when I was 18. During that whole wish to be older thing, I think I missed some of the better parts of my life. Or at least sped by them as fast as possible so I could move on to what I thought would be a better time for me. It was... but every year we grow older, we lose some of the innocence and naivety of the past. AND that, my friends, sucks. Naivety can be a good thing sometimes. It lets you be free. Enjoy the moment and easily ignore what could be a downfall. The current predicament I find myself in now.
I've gotten more responsibility at work than I ever wanted. Really. I was happy staying at the current ladder rung I was assigned. Working my damnedest and being the best I could be. There. No higher and no lower. That way, I could focus on family (now with one more). And write. And spend time doing things I love. But (there's always one). Life had other plans. Now, I find that I have a To Do List piling up higher than before and less energy to deal with the important things. And here I am, still working through it to do the best that I can do. For work. Another trait that does well for a career--but is it the best for family and home? How about the self?
I'm not knocking the job. I have one. As stable as it can be in these times. Overall, I even enjoy it. But I wonder if I dedicate too much of myself (my true self) to this job. This career. That really, in tough times, could be dropped at any moment (it is business after all). And then what will I have left? No one will remember me as that great employee. They remember good people. People that defied odds. That went after something with the heart and gut. Not a Corporate Ladder Climber that found herself in a great position. Or is this just me?
What I'm getting at (long-winded of course), is that I want my daughter to have a sense of self AND a sense of balance. I don't think I ever have had a clear sense of either. Maybe until now or not ever. I mean, we can "give it all we have" in any profession and even as a mother. But, is that really a sense of self? Not in my book. We need to reach for dreams we've always had. New ones that come to us in our daydreams. And we need to balance it with all the other important things in life--friends, family, self, health. It's a shame I am worried I won't be able to instill this into my daughter. Or that I am worried I will fail at it. But I look at my son now, and at 5 years old, he's got balance down. All you really care about is yourself and your immediate family (which is the important stuff in that part of your life) All those other variables don't exist yet. But I see them. I see school intruding. And his hesitancy in participating because he doesn't know if he can do it well enough. As a mother, my worry is starting. I want him to be HIM.
To laugh, to draw, to reach for the impossible. Just like my daughter. Just like I wanted to do when I was 5. Or 12. Or 18. Or 22. But what happens, is the dream I had when I was 12, gets molded differently because of a comment or judgement from another. And by the time I was 22, the dream changed. Not deep in my heart, but in the logical part of my brain. And I never want to be the one imposing those other variables to my children. Especially to my daughter. Because, let's face it, she'll probably be the most like me. Or face at least similar challenges that I have. She'll be a woman one day too. And that is something, I can't share with my son.
It's funny. I see the twinkle. And I see the air of mischievousness in them. And man, when she smiles, I see it in her eyes. But do they look like me? These days, my eyes look everything tired. And older than they have in years. It might be the lack of sleep. The stress of work. Or the entanglement of all of the family schedules into one and my frustration (and exhaustion) of trying to pull all of them together into one cohesive unit. Either way--I'm wondering what else I have passed on to my daughter. If I indeed have these eyes, I hope they are one of the good things I've passed along. As I have a whole slew of traits I hope she doesn't catch on.
My self-consciousness could be tossed out the window. I want her to be confident and sure of herself and her skills. There is nothing I could be more proud of--a daughter that knows she's got the right stuff and learns from others (that last part can be hard, but I hope that she is humble too). I also hope she stops and "smells the roses" from time to time. Being an eldest child, I rushed life. I wanted to be 15 when I was 12. And 21 when I was 18. During that whole wish to be older thing, I think I missed some of the better parts of my life. Or at least sped by them as fast as possible so I could move on to what I thought would be a better time for me. It was... but every year we grow older, we lose some of the innocence and naivety of the past. AND that, my friends, sucks. Naivety can be a good thing sometimes. It lets you be free. Enjoy the moment and easily ignore what could be a downfall. The current predicament I find myself in now.
I've gotten more responsibility at work than I ever wanted. Really. I was happy staying at the current ladder rung I was assigned. Working my damnedest and being the best I could be. There. No higher and no lower. That way, I could focus on family (now with one more). And write. And spend time doing things I love. But (there's always one). Life had other plans. Now, I find that I have a To Do List piling up higher than before and less energy to deal with the important things. And here I am, still working through it to do the best that I can do. For work. Another trait that does well for a career--but is it the best for family and home? How about the self?
I'm not knocking the job. I have one. As stable as it can be in these times. Overall, I even enjoy it. But I wonder if I dedicate too much of myself (my true self) to this job. This career. That really, in tough times, could be dropped at any moment (it is business after all). And then what will I have left? No one will remember me as that great employee. They remember good people. People that defied odds. That went after something with the heart and gut. Not a Corporate Ladder Climber that found herself in a great position. Or is this just me?
What I'm getting at (long-winded of course), is that I want my daughter to have a sense of self AND a sense of balance. I don't think I ever have had a clear sense of either. Maybe until now or not ever. I mean, we can "give it all we have" in any profession and even as a mother. But, is that really a sense of self? Not in my book. We need to reach for dreams we've always had. New ones that come to us in our daydreams. And we need to balance it with all the other important things in life--friends, family, self, health. It's a shame I am worried I won't be able to instill this into my daughter. Or that I am worried I will fail at it. But I look at my son now, and at 5 years old, he's got balance down. All you really care about is yourself and your immediate family (which is the important stuff in that part of your life) All those other variables don't exist yet. But I see them. I see school intruding. And his hesitancy in participating because he doesn't know if he can do it well enough. As a mother, my worry is starting. I want him to be HIM.
To laugh, to draw, to reach for the impossible. Just like my daughter. Just like I wanted to do when I was 5. Or 12. Or 18. Or 22. But what happens, is the dream I had when I was 12, gets molded differently because of a comment or judgement from another. And by the time I was 22, the dream changed. Not deep in my heart, but in the logical part of my brain. And I never want to be the one imposing those other variables to my children. Especially to my daughter. Because, let's face it, she'll probably be the most like me. Or face at least similar challenges that I have. She'll be a woman one day too. And that is something, I can't share with my son.
Labels: life, me, motherhood, The Kiddo, The Peanut
