I started a writing group at my church and tonight was our first meeting. This is the writing I did. The writing exercise was
Write about what people see when they look at you from the outside.
Write what people commonly know about you – your job, some of your accomplishments or interests, who you live with etc.
Write something that very few people know about you: wishes, dreams, a secret
Write a lie, how sometimes when you are home alone, you are transformed into …
I’ve moved around a fair bit and every time I unpack and get to know the people around me I’m surprised by how terrifying and freeing it is to start over. The terrifying part is the knowledge that I am now surrounded by a new group of people who will eventually learn of my idiosyncrasies and my failings. The opposite side of that, the freeing part, is that no one knows my past mistakes.
Because of my experiences with moving I think I’ve dissected my own first impression that I give to people. People see in me a fun person. A woman comfortable in her skin. A woman happy to laugh and find enjoyment whenever possible.
It would be helpful if there was a sticker on my back with my interests and my accomplishments. The sticker would relieve me of reciting once again my life’s current story.
I am a mother of four children, the last baby being born four months ago at home in my bathtub. I am therefore an advocate for midwifery. My children are Jason, eight years old. He’s my little sheriff, interrogating anyone who will let him. He is full of questions and just as ready with all the answers. My daughter Jocelyn is six years old and she’s my princess. She loves anything to do with being pretty and hates anything gross or anything on eight legs. David is two years old and he’s my tank. He’s busy and rough and loves to break things. He’s my two and a half foot tall bull in my china shop. Laurelyn is my baby. She’s my last and the cumulation of everything I wanted in my birth and in myself as a mother. I finally got to have the home birth I wanted and I am closer to the mother I wanted to be all along.
I have been married for almost ten years. When I got married I told Chuck that I wanted to do several things once I was finished having babies. He’s amazingly supportive and no matter how many times he forgets to put his socks in the laundry basket I will always be grateful for his support while I entertain talents that have long laid dormant while I focus on motherhood.
I am thrilled with how things change. I am moving out of babyhood and into tweendom. As my children get older I am reminded of ambitions that I put aside long ago. I have wanted to travel for as long as I can remember. I use to pore over picture books of far away places. Places I was sure I would never see. The Grand Canal, Notre Dame Cathedral, the Mayan ruins. If I had my wish it would be to travel the world with my children and my husband. We could stay in Rome for six months learning a new language and discovering a new place full of history and adventure.
Until then I will continue to snuggle my babies and enjoy my life with Chuck. I will stay close to home and relish in my role as ElastiGirl. With one arm stirring what’s cooking on the stove and the other changing a diaper. One leg closing the oven door and the other holding me from falling over. If it weren’t for my inhuman ability I would never survive motherhood.
