Who says what?

Novelist, mother, minister, and yoga teacher muses on books, babies, motherhood, and what matters with reverent humor.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Interview with Self

Enquiring minds want to know: what's the hardest part of being nearly seven months pregnant and in England with two young children?

You want to know what it's like? You want to KNOW, is that it? In the first place, I'd like to take a deep breath and do a sun salutation but in the place we're staying but the ceilings are too low to raise your arms up over your head. And while my dear offspring have yet to settle into a rhythm after these weeks, and still are getting up at seven and not falling asleep until nine and only occasionally nap and then usually in the car, and when I have to sit with them in the car while they nap the sweat drips down my back and pools near my bottom, this is not the hardest part.

Here's the hardest part: I adore them. I love to mother them. I love to feel like I'm doing a good job--and to see them reflect this. Alas, on this trip I have felt like screaming: THESE NASTY BEASTS DON'T BELONG TO ME. In particular this is true of my son who has taking to either hitting me when I demand he do something, or threatening to hit me, usually in the neighborhood of twenty-seven times. Yes, please tell me this is a phase.<

Okay, enough with your complaining. What's the best part?

Good question. Maybe the times I've walked down the high street (what they call the main street with all the shops) in a town near us called Whitstable where there still exists a baker, a butcher, a cheese shop, a veggie/fruit store, a fish market, and a sweets store. It reminds me of the sweetness and simplicity of how life may have been in the way long ago...and also could still may, may still be in the future. And too there have been a few truly joyful moments with the children, when yesterday my boy got on a big jumping pillow at this adventure playground and tears came to my eyes at the sight of his pleasure. You know it hurts my heart to feel so distant from them--to be the disciplinarian so ceaselessly. Now that's the hardest part.

Well, no one asked you to be so serious.

You're right. The hardest part is the cheese. Cheese at every meal. Cheese every day for lunch. Don't make me explain why this is hard.
On the other hand, the best part is the cheese. Cheese at every meal. Cheese every day for lunch. Tasty cheese.


  1. It's a phase. The toddler here is being a beast, too. He's also testing that even in these crazy circumstances, you still care enough about him to enforce limits. Remember, every "NO!" from him is really him asking, "do you love me enough to discipline me?"


  2. You make it sound so positive...Like, honey, this hurts mommy more than it hurts you.... :-)