Thursday, 1 March 2007

Mind...Space


Spring! Ha! The neighbourhood kids are out shovelling walks, Mr. S. is stuck on a bus somewhere on his way home, and we are cuddled up inside:


In an attempt to ignore the universe laughing at me, I'll just change the subject.

A couple of days ago I noticed my friend and neighbour out in her backyard, just sitting. On second glance, I also noticed the top of her child's hat bobbing around the backyard on a curious path as children often do. But it was the look on my friend's face that caught my eye. It was the look of a mother blissfully retreating into herself (babe busy...i have a few minutes to think...). In my creative unravelling I wonder a lot about my daughter and how this will weave itself into her life. One of the reasons I am determined to do this involves my relationship with her, but very often I come up against a blank wall trying to integrate her creatively into what I'm doing (and I'm talking now about when it's just she and I - when Mr. S. is around or is doing something with her, it's different, obviously). And so, I end up writing/crafting during her nap or after she's gone to sleep, or something I'm trying to make gets put down so that I can play with her, or (gasp) I put on the t.v. My child is a person and as such I don't like to ignore her (as I would not like to be ignored). Not a shred of me resents this, but I'm not afraid to admit that it can get frustrating.

When you ask someone "how they do it" everymom's stock answer is "oh, I don't" which is honourable and humble, but not very useful. I'm not asking if, I'm asking how. I really truly enjoy playing with Safiya and watching her and revelling in being fortunate enough to have such an interesting, incredible person in my life. However, I believe in the great AND: not the forced dammit-i'll-do-this-if-it-kills-me-and-it-probably-will kind, the just-breathe-and-dance-and-go-with-it-kind. Besides, isn't this how children learn? By our side? I'm just not sure how to swing this dance yet.

Young Mother Sewing, 1900
Mary Cassatt

I'll keep trying though.

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