How have you been affected by remembrances and anticipation in your life? Has pregnancy changed or enhanced how you deal with past, present, and future, or how you hope to teach your baby to do it?
I have a lot of anticipation in my life. I feel like I am lazy or I am just putting to much energy into a life I don't want. I want to be an artist, but I feel like I have no time. If I feel like I have no time, how is that going to change when I have a child and how will I teach them to value the arts when my sculptures have changes to house decorations.
I would like to work at a job where I am busy just on the weekends or a few weekends. I would like to have all day to work on what I want and spend time with my child. I need to become a photographer or a dj or something. I worked hard to get Bryce into a job similar to this. One that he can work from home on and on his own time, but I kind of ignored myself to do it. Not that I am a huge self sacrificer, but what will this teach my baby?
I have a high hopes for parenting that I feel is going to be crushed by the life I have now. My own hopes for life, traveling, making art, directing plays are all crushed with my lifestyle now. I haven't been able to travel for more than three days in a year. How will I be able to spend as much time with my child and be involved like this. Grrr, I need a life change.
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Maybe Baby (perhaps named "He/She Who Comes From the Line of Furry Beard")will bring you new insight into this. Maybe Baby will bring clarity with him/her.
When I was pregnant with Sam both Richard and I were full-time, free-lance musicians, and Richard had just started seminary full-time. I was really scared that having a baby was going to "keep me at home" and prevent me from traveling to sing and teach all over creation. I also thought it was an ideal work situation for a family who chose to go the way of breastfeeding and co-sleeping: I could take him to work with me, and but for a few hours each day, we'd be together.
BUT....I found that much as I tried to prepare myself for what I thought I wanted, I didn't actually know until the wee one swam out into the world. It turned out traveling was damn hard with a babe. That when MamaMilk was needed NOW and we were not at a place to pull over and do the deed, leaning my still very voluptuous body and enormous breast over the car seat and into to the mouth of the boy gave me a crick in the neck. And for a long time all I wanted was to be at home.
My sense about vocation seemed to be shifting regularly, too. With Sam's stages of growth, Richard's grad school schedule, the earth's seasons, the weather, my mood, etc. This was really frustrating at times. But now, in a new way, it all kind of makes sense: I'm an artist. I make of my life art. I was learning to create art from my life as mother. And since I hadn't before seen mothering done the way I wanted to do it, I felt like I was inventing all the way.
It was a good way. A sleepy way, but a good way. And Sam was like a little guru guide in how and what that artwork came to be.
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