Thoughts on Motherhood

I struggle to embrace the opportunities I have as a mother with my son. I still get stuck in the confines of motherhood instead of the possibilities and opportunities it brings. I get caught up in my own agenda and forget the bliss of the present that he as a child so naturally lives in. At times I bask in the moments of his newest discovery - of seeing life through his unobstructed and pure eyes.

I wish I could forget about the messes and relish in the feel of mud between my toes; forget the clock and spend the day observing the parade of circus animals floating across the sky; to wake each morning with joy and excitement for what the day brings or simply spring out of bed with a childlike enthusiasm to play. I can’t remember the last time I just gave myself a day to play. Why does that time always have to labeled as “vacation” as an adult?

Do I even know how to simply play as a child an entire day without boredom setting in, distractions of a to-do list, and mounting chores in the back of my head counting the minutes of “wasted” playtime. I do not know how to be, how to operate without an agenda or ticking clock counting down the minutes without worries of responsibility. How do I approach life where everything doesn’t feel like a burdensome task to be checked off, but rather as an opportunity for creativity, joy, nourishment, connection, and fun?

Beach days are the closest I get to play days, but even those, as a mother, get shrouded by the task of packing, planning, and making it all happen. Beach days as an adult are not the same as they once were as a child. Long hours splashing in the water, doing flips over the crest of the waves, rolling in the warm sand becoming coated like a sugar cookie, building castles, playing volleyball or other beach games, scavenging for shells, and taking in the fresh ocean air.

Days at the beach as an adult more often look like reading in a chair, sedentary, quiet, shaded, and lifeless. The things that once drew me in as a child have lost their appeal. Exhaustion has set in and the thought of exerting that energy seems daunting. It takes enough for me to keep my son fed, dig in the dirt and play cars with him, splash in the water for a bit, and walk with him down the beach. Where have things gone wrong? What keeps me from being present and enjoying the simple pleasures of the beach? Why do the things that once drew me in and brought excitement bring dread and avoidance?

I am unsure if it is the preoccupation with exhaustion and lack of physical energy or if it comes from a somewhat forced maturation and transition out of childhood at an early age to take on the role and responsibilities of adulthood. Very little value was given to childhood, frivolity, and play in my life and it has become a prominent topic as I have become a mother. I’m been confronting my own views of what childhood is and have been grieving the things I missed. It has been a journey and continues to be, as I am learning to reimagine childhood and motherhood for myself letting go of other’s expectations, especially from my family of origin.