The Internet is a double-edged sword. Especially if you are compulsively creative.
Some days I read all of the blogs and websites I love and I feel invincible. There is so much energy pulsing through my veins I can hardly sleep. I find projects, goals and creative things to do across the spectrum. I am determined to be a super-twin-mama-master-chef-yogini-seamstress-crafty-decorator-gardener-healthy-choice-maker-extraordinaire!
Then there are the other days.
The days when I read all of the blogs and websites I love, my Facebook newsfeed and I literally stop breathing. There is no energy. I am overcome with an unexplainable fear. Fear of failing at everything. Not just some things, but EVERYTHING.
Somewhere between invincible and the last 48 hours my super-twin-mama-master-chef-yogini-seamstress-crafty-decorator-gardener-healthy-choice-maker-extraordinaire! has left. She has been replaced by the nothing-super-to-see-here-twin-mama-can’t-boil-a-freaking-egg-sloth-can’t-sew-a-napkin-witless-craftless-no-eye-for-style-plant-murderer-Dr.Pepper-drinking-who-knows-what-the-hell-is-in-this-food-extraordinaire!
There has to be some sort of happy medium between the days I feel invincible and the days I don’t. But I can’t seem to find it.
My only explanation is that sometimes my dreams for what I want to do and be and see and experience exceed my own expectations. Or I read too much in one morning. I’m sure it’s a little of both.
We can take in more images and types of information in one hour of our day in Google searches then we could in one week when I was younger. Literally.
Have you ever looked something up on microfiche? Yes, I just typed the word microfiche. Welcome to how Generation-X wrote papers. Google? Google what? Google NOTHING.
Have you heard of a card catalog?
Somewhere between Americans expanding their girth size and information intake, I think some important things have been lost. The Internet has made it easier to sit and dream about it rather than doing it. It takes seconds to pin it, like it, read how to do it and dream about doing it before we’re on to the next thing.
We forget we didn’t actually DO anything.
Our pin-boards, dream boards and bucket lists become so large it’s almost impossible to know where to begin. It’s easier to just keep pinning, dreaming and adding.
As a sometimes chronic pinner, dreamer and adder — it’s my take on things.
Lately, I have lost my ability to slow down (even on my mat). To unplug. To stop and create. To stop and even figure out what I REALLY want to create. (Except for when the Dumplings send me into a coma at 4 o’clock in the afternoon for three hours.)
My husband thinks my nesting gene is on some sort of crack. I’m starting to agree with him.
When I was doing 60+ Days On the Mat preparing myself mentally and my body physically for pregnancy — praying every morning and every night, and completely focusing on what I wanted; letting go of what I didn’t — I was slowing down every day. I was getting on my mat with intention and writing from a part of me I never knew was there.
It’s not that I don’t have an intention now. I absolutely do. A million of them. And I generally wait to write until I have something to say. Some days are better than others. Writing is a skill that needs to be honed and practiced like any other in an effort to find your voice.
But, full confession – I miss the focus those 67+ Days gave me. As I enter the final four months of this pregnancy I need to get that back. I have 123 days (probably less) to go.
I want it back.
I got to the day of my embryo transfer on February 1st and I felt ready for anything. I was so in my body and in the moment. I can honestly say it was the most alive I have felt — EVER.
I can’t say that today, mainly because I feel like extraterrestrial beings are growing inside of me. There are moments when I have the urge to call Ghostbusters. Like right now. I think they are punching each other.
If the Dumplings came tomorrow, I’m not ready. I’m scared to death. I’m all over the place, and perhaps that comes with the territory of growing two humans inside of you at the same time? Perhaps that comes with the territory of knowing something that used to be a dream is four months or less from a reality?
There is an overwhelming responsibility I feel right now to get everything right. I know it will become more so once they get here. And more importantly, I know I absolutely won’t get everything right. It’s statistically impossible. Plus, what are they going to complain about when they’re older if I’m not at least somewhat irritating and WRONG? Hopefully, I can get the important stuff right.
So tonight, as I was combing the Internet feeling like a less than invincible beached whale, I decided to take a breath. I prayed for focus. I prayed for clarity. I prayed for intention. I thanked God for sending my nausea to Siberia. As a side note I was hoping He could do the same for my heartburn and the many other oh-so-interesting-side-effects of Dumpling creation.
As I finished writing this post and went to get a drink in the kitchen … Raylan was waiting for me. This crazy cat has a house full of toys to play with and somehow he found the last remaining feminine pad I had and decided it was his. All his.
As I grabbed my camera and took the picture above — I had a flash of the Dumplings. A house full of toys and bouncy seats and all sorts of fancy things to entertain them – and there they were playing in cardboard boxes.
Sometimes we all need to go find our cardboard box and play in it. That blank slate where anything is possible.
Watching the cat play with this pad was sort of like that. He had no idea what it was, but he was going to explore it, chew on it and hold it and scratch it — until he had exhausted all of its possibilities.
Tomorrow we see the Dumplings in 3D. I’m sure I’ll have a picture and a Dear Dumplings letter to share before the end of the week.
In the meantime, you should all read this letter Heather Armstrong wrote to her daughter, Marlo, on her 4th birthday. I’ve been reading these letters to her daughters for years, hoping the day could come when I could write mine.
She was my inspiration as I wrote the first letter to the Dumplings before I even knew they actually were two.
As I finish my last big editing project and head to Texas for vacation next week — I am going to search for the focus of my next 123 days. I’m definitely going to start meditating and slowing down.
Eventually I hope to end up somewhere between a super-twin-mama-master-chef-yogini-seamstress-crafty-decorator-gardener-healthy-choice-maker-extraordinaire! and the nothing-super-to-see-here-twin-mama-can’t-boil-a-freaking-egg-sloth-can’t-sew-a-napkin-witless-craftless-no-eye-for-style-plant-murderer-Dr.Pepper-drinking-who-knows-what-the-hell-is-in-this-food-extraordinaire!
Somewhere between This and That is a place where my nesting gene has detoxed and I can be fully present.
I want that back.
The Dumplings need that Mama in charge of things when they get here.