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Margaret Sky
Disclosure: some of the links below are affiliate links, meaning, at no additional cost to you, I will earn a commission if you click through and make a purchase. Thanks for supporting Home In Wonderland! I’ve always loved organized mom blogs. The ones where they purport they follow a weekly cleaning schedule, and a weekly menu plan, and their baby naps consistently precisely at such-and-such o’clock. Sigh. I’ve also always loved the illusion of control, and of doing things “right.” Yes, oh yes, I was one of those new moms who researched the *eh hem out of everything prior to trying it. (You don’t even want to know how many times I googled “2 month old baby clingy and fussy,” “3 month old baby clingy and fussy”). By no means, and under no circumstances, did I leave my parenting up to instinct. Oh no! I wanted to know what the experts recommended, what the peer-reviewed research said. I did not want to screw anything up. So, consequently, you’d think myself and my beautiful little baby girl would be excellent candidates for…
Because I know it is possible some of you do not keep your homes visitor or in-law ready 24/7, I have provided simple step-by-step instructions for what to do when you get the random text at 10 am on a Tuesday saying, “Hey, I’m in the neighborhood and thought I would drop off that book of excellent parenting advice I’ve been telling you about.” This will also serve well for those situations in which you forgot you had plans with someone until they announce they are headed over. Ditto for occasions on which you remembered full well they were coming over but were too busy trying to keep your toddler from coloring on the library books to do anything about it…. And are then filled with a rush of adrenaline/panic/doom as you look around your laundry and toy strewn living-room, gaze upon the dishes overflowing the sink and observe the yogurt slowly dripping onto the kitchen floor…. Not that I would know what that is like… Ahem. Nevertheless: Instructions! Grab laundry basket Throw all contents of living room floor into this basket. Hide said…
Hi friends. Welcome. If you love spirituality, mom life, yoga, and green, natural living, you’ll feel right at home here. If, on the other hand, the preceding sentence made you throw up a little bit in your mouth, you will most definitely feel at home here. So…. about me. I’m a wife, a mom, a mental health therapist, and a living, breathing human being. Despite appearances (maybe?) of normalcy, my life has been altogether strange. Like Alice in Wonderland I find myself frequently thinking, “Curiouser and curiouser…” In 2012, I met a spiritual teacher, and that encounter changed the trajectory of my life (not to mention blew apart my old paradigms). Before that, I was trying to find meaning in life by rock climbing a lot. Now, I’m trying to find meaning in life by UNDERSTANDING THE TRUE NATURE OF REALITY AND THEN REMEMBERING IT ALL THE TIME ONCE I REALIZE IT (that should be no problem, right?). Since that first encounter, there have been many ups and downs; I’m usually more lost than found, but I find immeasurably joy in nesting and snuggling up with my family…
I’m tired. Which by itself is not a catastrophe. However, for me, tired tends to be accompanied by other, less benign thoughts and feelings. What happens is this: Notice urge to “rest my eyes” while standing in line at the grocery store/waiting for next client to arrive/attempting to wrangle screaming toddler/sitting on couch contemplating doing dishes/serving as jungle gym for climbing toddler. “Rest eyes” momentarily only to be jolted awake by nearly falling over. Think: I’m way too tired to do everything I need to do today, and I’m never going to be able to get everything done. Exhaustion and dejection creep in Think: I never finish anything. How am I ever going to be able to… write my novel/write consistently on my blog/make dinner/keep my house clean/catch up on paperwork/enjoy my life/complete anything in my life EVER, etc., etc., etc. Dejection begins to look like depression (of the miniature, not the clinical, variety). Watch a few episodes of Friends to take the edge off. Look at clock. Be Shocked and Appalled. Think: What have I done? The night is gone and…
If you’ve been hanging around Wonderland for a while, you might know I work as a therapist, in addition to caring for my daughter and pontificating to you all via THE INTERNET a couple times per week. Now, being a therapist involves a lot of sitting in stiff-backed chairs, mustache-twirling, pipe-smoking, and saying “mmm…mmmhmmm.” Just kidding. But seriously, I was wondering why my 1.5 year old daughter, Warrior Girl, says “uh huh” and “hmmm” all the time when my husband pointed out it is because I am a therapist. But really, being a therapist involves a whole lot of listening to things that are hard to hear, and a whole lot of sitting with people in their sadness, their anger, their despair. This is tough to do without a paradigm of life that can give meaning and/or coherence to the vast suffering we therapists (and humans in general) encounter on the daily. So not long ago, I was skating through life, not really paying attention, when suddenly I woke up and found myself in a nihilistic hellhole of absurdity. Yes, yes, I’m sure…
I was 25 when I became a mother. Within moments, my reality changed. I am no longer the main character, the protagonist. I am no longer center stage. Each new generation comes (so it seems) and feels they know better, they are smarter, they won’t make the same mistakes as the previous generations. The future is in their hands. And once, I was important, I knew better, I was smarter, my future was limitless. But that is not now. I (hopefully) have many years ahead of me, but the world’s future is in the hands of my daughter, and the children of my friends and sisters, children who will certainly feel themselves to be much clearer of vision, much surer of foot. It’s not a bad thing. It is not a bad thing to become a supporting character after a lifetime of being Number One. A small death, perhaps. But I have been resurrected a Mother. **** *I want to note that for me, this transformation has been positive and humbling. I do not mean that my identity or self-hood has become subsumed into this “motherhood” role. I am myself as…