On a Sunday Afternoon

Just a little bit ago I was sprawled out on the bed reading (yes I know R-E-A-D-I-N-G, all by myself, a grown up book even) with Jude lying next to me cater-cornered, snuggled deep in slumberland. Well, he must have faintly stirred or murmured because something caused me do one of those glance-checks that've become such a habit. The glance-check melted all mushy like into a gaze and, of course, I didn't go back to reading my book right away. Ahhhh...that little mop of soft brown waves, those silky eyelash fringes, afternoon-sun blushed cheeks, I took it all in.

With his little angel-face sleeping beside me, I thought about how bewildering and magical it still feels when I remember that this little guy was/is a part of me- note: this would NOT be something I'd be all getting all gushy about when he's playing table hockey across the counter with his water cup- but right at that particular moment though, this whole feeling of blended essences sort of enveloped us both. It hit me that not only is this little guy physically a part of me, but he shares my spirit too. This whole intangible yet distinct thing we all have that we've named spirit. I'd never really thought of it that way before--my spirit being part of one that is quite uniquely his. I mean, yes we are all connected, all part of each other here in this world, and I've pondered these kinds of things a bit in the past few years, but I've never truly felt it quite this...tangible, as if the two of us were encompassed in it's soft reality right there on the bed.

Strange, I know. And yes I'm going all transcendental and abstract on you, but this whole motherhood thing is perplexing, takes a while getting used to under the best of circumstances. It definitly is the most difficult, complicated, exhausting and demanding thing one can get oneself into, I have no doubt about that now. But, well, there's the dark side of those perplexing emotions that no one ever really talks about. Extremes. Extremes of our humanity that I didn't know existed. Of course, how could I until now, right?

And mixed up in it all is this whole notion of identity. See, there's this Me I've been working on for the last 37 years that I was just starting to get to know. Then in one long-long-loooong 23 hour day that Me was wiped out, and not just wiped out, but totally obliterated. I know, it's so drama queen. It's also confusing and unbalancing and I've been wandering around with "WHO Am I Now"? stuck on repeat in my head for a year and a half. Well, the mom part I knew was pretty much established, it's the rest that seemed to be MIA.

So, getting back to the little angel face moment I was having (it all ties together, I promise,just stay with me). Those sun-blushed cheeks he's sporting were acquired this afternoon when we were planting this year's purple hyacinth bean vines around the lamp post. This spring, for the first time, I had help digging homes for the tender baby plantlets. My small companion sat right beside me, his little hands gently helping me pat the soil all around the vines, and I guess what I'm trying to say is the light bulb finally clicked on. Took a while, apparently I'm a slow learner(reference Jude's Law # regarding bad toga tailors). But I now see that I've not really lost my identity, oh-it might have run away for a while or been hiding in sheer terror. But there's this redesigned version that seems to be peeking around the corner. Identity 2.0? I dunno, someone really needs to write a Mommyhood for Dummies book. I do know this though, now that this little boy has come to live with us(and who runs around in destructo-baby mode a little more often than I'd like), I'll be going down paths on my journey of Who I Am that has a whole bunch'a new road signs.