I did it! (Now, do I want it?)

Daddy and baby are snoring together in the reinvigorated family bed (teething has put a little dent in the sleeping patterns here at the cottage), but my mind is racing too hard to nap.

You see, I finally did it...after all the applications and interviews and sorry's and no, i'm sorry's and horrid commutes and almost-fits, I finally landed my pretty-much-dream-job - - - running a school-based garden and nutrition education program. So, YAY for me, I finally nailed it! I can be righteously psyched about a position, AND qualified for it, AND they can be excited to have me on board, AND it can pay a good salary, AND it can be a doable commute. See, it is out there!

Funny, though, how this baby thing makes the dream job seem a little less than practical! I'm trying to decide whether to take the offer, and I'm realizing that maybe 1/2 a dream job would be more suited to my current situation. Because though the job is dreamy, it doesn't offer very suitable conditions for motherhood. No on-site daycare, no working from home, no baby at work, no part-time flexibility...and I'm having a very hard time visualizing how I could leave my little man at 7 and not see him until 5 when I really don't have to. I'm not sure that the personal satisfaction gained from working would really outweigh the likelihood that I will miss out on my kid learning how to crawl, to walk, and to talk. Yes, I know plenty of people do it, many of you have done it, but it is tough. Harder than gritting my teeth through our current 1950's gender role experiment that has me handling never-ending laundry loads and dinner prep.

I know it is doable - if I wanted it bad enough we could work out childcare and share more household chores and make it work. The baby will be fine and healthy either way, god willing. I applied for the job because I couldn't let it slip by without knowing whether it was the fit for my experience and my goals that it seemed to be. But what I've been trying to figure out this weekend is if it'd really be worth it. You see, I don't think I'll regret a minute I spend with Silas as he moves so rapidly towards childhood. But I already regret some of those I've spent away from him. We are lucky to have the luxury of being together, and though I could certainly use some brain exercise beyond parenting books now and then, I don't think I'm ready to jump headlong back into my career so soon. I love kids and I love teaching, and I'd like to have the time to provide my own kid with enriching educational experiences instead of using up all my energy on other people's precious babes.

So I think I'll propose a contractual consultant position, and maybe they'll take me up on it. And if not, maybe the position will be there when the boy-o is a bit older and more in need of some daycare socialization. Or maybe it won't work out. But at least I did it. Finally.

Whoosh...

A picture to represent how fast time is whooshing by lately! My big boy is sleeping in his own room, eating real (well, very simple, very shmushy) food, and drinking from a bottle so well that we even took him out last night for appetizers and a sunset and he ate, drank, and fell asleep without needing me whatsoever! It is kind of sad, because after six months I was getting kind of used to being his whole world. But it is also VERY exciting to see how well adjusted and secure he is in the greater world as a result of all the love and care we've given so far. He trusts us so much and always expects things to be fun and exciting because we look at them that way. Teaching always gave me the opportunity to notice how children approach new experiences - some with curiosity and wonder, diving in with arms outstretched; others with apprehension and caution, sticking a toe in to check the water first. Silas seems to be a diver, and I think it is so neat to see how we as parents have been able to cultivate that trust and sense of adventure.

I'm thinking more about working again lately. I had ANOTHER interview (like number 20 in two years??!!) yesterday, this time for a school garden supervisory position. It was really exciting to learn more about the position and just to talk about learning and teaching gardens...it is a huge passion of mine and I hadn't had a lot of time to think about it much this past year. But I really don't think I want to leave my baby full time, so it's going to be a tough decision. At least Mommy gets some of her own drama now and then...gets the creative juices flowing.

Of the trees...

I had a little time to write today (yay, naps!):

It was while doing a tree pose in yoga today that I realized why my son's name was the right one.

I am exhausted, ground down by week upon week of interrupted sleep and the general muted nature of my mommy life. It is a good life, but a little bit dreary now and then, without the highs and lows and goals and productivity that a childless life has. This general "blahness" of motherhood creeps up on me, and leads sometimes to desperate attempts to get out and engage with something, anyone. Postpartum yoga is one of my usual escapes.

My postpartum class is great. Only in Berkely could you find a class like this, with the right mix of kharma and dharma and good old fashioned pain. On days when Silas follows the prescribed rhythm of baby-mommy yoga, baby massage, baby-please-sleep-or-go-play-with-the-helpers-so-mommy-can-get-a-real-
workout yoga, I find that I return from the class invigorated and with more abdominal muscles regained.

Of all the yoga poses, I especially love to stand in tree. One leg bent up and resting solid against thigh, heel drilling into the mat, back reed straight and arms reaching towards the sky, I feel powerful and calm. If I breath well and keep my feet grounded and my eyes ahead, I can usually keep from falling over for a couple of minutes. But then, like a frigid breeze, some thought will invariably come into me head..."did I put that load of diapers on the rinse cycle before we left", woooosh...knocked over. Try again. Breath, breath, regain the pose, focus ont he wall, "oh, crap, I have to remember to return those books to the library before his nap." And whoosh, down again.

This morning the instructor's voice broke in to my own, telling us to be like the tree, "rooted strongly in the ground and lightly swaying with the wind." The lightbulb going on in my head was so real that I swear I heard a "click."

We tell everyone we named our son Silas because "it was the only name in the baby book that we ever both liked", chuckle, chuckle, shrug, shrug. "Oh, and it has it's root in the Greek silvus - of the trees." How nice. Nat's a scientist, I'm an environmental educator, our son has a fitting name for Mr. Nature Baby. But for us, the tree part was more than that. Trees offer solace and strength. We go to the trees when we need a break, some insight, some oxygen. But, I realized today, metaphorically the tree holds the answers to the sort of life I'd like my son to live. To be rooted, solid and trusting (and trustworthy), held strong and able to draw from a network of family and faith in himself and the world, while knowing how to sway with the breeze, to rustle with the rain, to constantly grow outward and upward while retaining his core.

Silas. At five months he is a solid little fellow. A sitter,watcher and chewer. Eleven plus pounds at birth and nearly thirty now, he is larger than most of his compatriots by almost double. I joke that he's been in a race with an invisible opponent his whole sweet life. But, not so secretly, I am amazed at his ability to grow. Like the lucky sapling who landed in the best spot ion the forest floor, shooting up faster than every other seed to to catch the sun , Silas excels at turning all that we give him into flesh and activity. We are his forest, he is our tree. Solidly rooted, lightly swaying.

Something to do this weekend...

Sorry to be so vacant/absent/generally not here lately. The baby's blog gets way more attention than this one. Which makes sense, because his is mostly pictures. Believe me, you don't need to see pictures of what I do all day (nor do I need any reminders about how the baby weight is not "melting off" with breastfeeding as all those liars attest.) It seems as soon as I am done with the laundry/watering/dishes/mail, etc. that I save up for naptime and have a chance to consider a topic or reflection that I decide might be worth writing about, he wakes up.

SO (I swear I here the sheets rustling) here's something easy and...helpful (I was going to say fun, but it depends on whether you enjoy picking up trash on a beach or not, but most people who've pitched in in the past find it fun) to do this weekend. Come participate in the annual Coastal Cleanup! Whatever coast you're on, or even if you're not, you can help protect wildlife and collect some hard data about all the junk we keep dumping into our waterways. Nat and Silas and I will be helping out here in Berkeley, but there are plenty of other locations. Just a couple hours of your time for a great cause...and a chance to win prizes...ooops, and there goes the baby.