Sometimes I think I should rename this blog 'fumbling through motherhood'....I've spent many an hour racking my brains over the source of my child's meltdowns in the morning on the days I go to work and every night when I make dinner. They began around 12 months old and now, at 29 months continue on a mostly daily basis.
I know some of it is fatigue and hunger and some is the stress of being away from me or the prospect of being away from me. I've tried just about everything to solve the issue - given my undivided attention upon returning home for 10-15 minutes, put on Sesame Street, created art projects to be done 3 feet away from me, put on music, read books in between chopping vegetables, yelled, ignored, given time outs. Nothing has made a difference.
In the last week I decided it was time to return with a serious bent to my yoga and meditation practice. I've been so aware of how off-kilter I've felt since the beginning of the year. Frankly, I find myself miserable to live with, I can't even imagine how the other two people in this house can deal with it.
So, I've gotten up between 5:45 and 6am and tiptoed downstairs where I've done 45 minutes of yoga, 5 minutes of breath practice and 5 or 10 minutes of meditation. What I've noticed is a marked change in my sense of balance. I feel better. I feel like Sarah on a good day.
In my meditation I often visualize sitting on the dock at the Eckel's Camp, a place I would go swimming with my grandparents as a child. It is probably the place that I most equate with happiness and safety. My time there, usually with my grandparents, was filled with nothing but joy. Now, when I close my eyes, I can feel, see and smell the surroundings - cool pine needles crunching as I step on them. The weathered wood of the dock that is warmed by the sun. The sound of the water lapping against the shore. The feel of the vinyl seats in my grandparents subaru.
The person that I most wish I could talk with about my role as a mother is my grandmother. A person, who, it seems, had endless patience and the deepest well of happiness I've ever known. I so wish I could travel back in time, staying the age I am now, but being with her when she was 65 or 70 so we could talk about just how she did it.
So, in my meditation I imagine she is sitting with me on the dock, holding my hand. I can so clearly evoke the feel of her hands, the texture of their skin, the spots that peppered their backs and the smell of her paquin hand cream. I try to allow myself to feel the same sense of patience that I always perceived she had.
What I've found is that the first few times I did it, I just dissolved in tears and sat a wept as I (tried to) meditated. Now, I can feel a sense of peace as I sit with her.
The most interesting thing is that in these days when I have felt more balanced, my child has not had the meltdowns. Yesterday she was meltdown free. This morning, when she asked me if it was a mommy-ella day and I said, no it was an ella and friends day, she said a small 'oh' and then brightly 'ella and friends! yay!' I dropped her at daycare with nary a tear.
So, is her behavior her or me? Was I looking to the wrong source for the meltdowns? It will be interesting to see how things proceed. If I keep up my practice will her behavior be better because she senses mommy is more even keel? I'm sure there'll be hiccups and some meltdowns are inevitable, but if nothing else, maybe this practice can help me to respond better when they happen. That alone makes it worth it.
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