Nesting in to the now

Lately I feel as if I’ve been surrounded by some etheral force.  It is a state of being, pushing me along with the gentle force of a late Winter wind.  It seems as if all of the things I need, all of the people I meet, were put into place for me to find and interact with.  To answer all of my life’s questions.  To present options.  To offer paths.

If you are a follower of my husband’s blog over at Epiphany Now, you may have already read about some of the synchronistic events that continue to occur in our lives. Powerful connections with people,  with our community, have been blasting into our lives with great speed and unbelievable circumstances.  It is as if some greater force can see something that we can’t see…perhaps what lies ahead in our path.  As I continue to live the most that I can in the NOW, I continue to learn and grow more about myself and those I love.  I continue to find ways to educate our son to take time to slow down and listen.  I continue to explain to him why the answer is no, and why we have to do things like be quiet in a restaurant or at the library.  He’s learning social skills through our trips out into the world together.  He’s watching me meet new people and connect with them on different levels– almost daily.

We’re approaching warp speed with our society, it seems.  The need to build community is POWERFUL for me right now. 

I carry a little leather bound Indiana Jones notebook around with me in my purse.  When I meet new people, I ask them to list their contact information in my book.  Then I stand with them and and take notes about the things we are talking about.  I’ve met many interesting people on our journey.  Each person I meet seems to answer a question or problem that I’ve been struggling with.  Sometimes that struggle is internal.  Other times it is a struggle that I share with my husband.

The past few months have been a bit unsettling for my lover and I.  We have two sons:  a three year old and a nine month old.  We’re struggling with where to bulid our nest.  Do we stay here, in my hometown?  Do we move on to a town and an area that we both love?  Do we move for Aaron’s job?  Where do we want to settle down?  This has been an ongoing discussion between us.  Over and over we think we’ve decided on the answer only to return to it and ask it again.  It has been a complicated process.  One that we’re not through quite yet, for sure.

I take our boys to story time at the library on a regular basis these days.  As I mentioned in my last blog, I have learned a lot about my self and my role as a Mother during these visits.  The above image is the cover of a new book that we picked up at our local branch. (Branch— nest— hee hee).  My husband has been focused lately on two things:  Robins and Bamboo.  So, when I saw the cover of this book I went for it without a second thought.  The book tells the story of a family of robins who build a nest, raise a baby bird, watch their baby grow and stay with it until it finds a mate.

From Amazon.com:

In her picture book debut, artist Jorey Hurley opens our eyes to the wonders of the natural world and tells a universal story of family.

From birth, to first flight, to new friend, the first year of a bird’s life is full of activity and wonder. Artist Jorey Hurley pairs vivid, crisp artwork with simple, minimal text—often just one word per spread—to create a breathtaking, peaceful chronicle of nature and life’s milestones.

 

As I read more about the books description online, I ran across this note from the author:  “AMERICAN ROBIN One of the most common birds here in the Presidio is the American Robin. I decided to make them the main bird in Nest because they live all across North America, often in suburban or fairly built-up areas. Also their behavior is appealing to a human perspective (some birds are really not nice once you get into the details), so robins are perfect to share with young children.”

This led me to the desire to learn more about Robins.  My Mother taught me to be an avid birdwatcher as a child.  I knew all about birds and how they can sometimes be “not so no nice.”  For instance, when a cowbird would land on our bird feeder– or a blue jay– we were instructed to bang on the window pane until they flew away.  Both Blue Jay and Cowbirds are “Not so nice”.  Cowbirds are a parasite brood.  “Cowbirds don’t build their own nests. Instead, they generally remove an egg from another species’ nest, replace it with one of their own, and then rely on the surrogate parent to incubate the egg and rear the nestling.”-http://www.sialis.org/cowbirds.htm

“Furthermore, some female cowbirds destroy a nest and steal the host’s eggs BEFORE laying their cowbird eggs, thereby forcing the host to build a new nest.” –www.hiltonpond.org

Blue Jay have been known to partake in nest wrangling and destruction, and are just as upsetting.   Blue Jay may raid other birds’ nests, stealing eggs, chicks, and nests.

The Robin is different.  It is a family bird.  Robins usually reject the eggs of a cowbird if found in their nest. The Robin is a  very common bird:  “According to some sources, the American Robin ranks behind only the Red-winged Blackbird (and just ahead of the introduced European Starling) as the most abundant, extant land bird in North America”

“The adult male and female both are active in protecting and feeding the fledged chicks until they learn to forage on their own. The adult Robin gives alarm calls and dive-bombs predators, including domestic cats, dogs and humans that come near the young birds.” –www.wikipedia.org

Isn’t it great that I have a husband who is connected to the Robins? 😉

It seems to me that we are entering into a new stage as a family.  A stage that is teaching us how to grow together, love together and be in the present.  Now if we could only figure out where to build our nest…

My husband and I are quite roustabout by nature.  He is much more than I.  However, when your nickname is “Gypsy Mama”, it doesn’t take too much explaining to understand why we connect as soulmates 😉

I met a few people today that I entered into my notebook.  Perhaps soon I’ll be able to share the story of our meeting.  (For now, I have to get back to Mamba duty– the boys just woke from their dual nap). I feel that these meetings, these encounters, should be documented. They are so beautiful and synchronistic.  I feel as if we were meant to meet.  I feel as if my life– which is surrounded by the wants and needs of my family– is becoming a much clearer path to walk along.

 

~New to Two~ Be here Now~ Transitioning from being a Mother of One to a Mother of Two.

Slow down.

These words have helped me, more than any other two words combined in recent months.  A simple phrase, containing just the advice I needed.  I have went through an amplified, quickened and necessary life change over the past year.  I have become a Mother to two.

I’ve been attending story time throughout our community for the past month.  I’ve been using it for many things.  I’ve used it as a teaching tool for myself and for my sons.  Ayden Zen, my oldest son, benefits the most through our story time interactions at the Library.  We’ve attended  different branches in our area. Each branch is filled with different parent types.  Different psychologies, different results of different parenting methods.  I have seen children who have been given little to no authority.  I have seen Mothers who have let go of their seemingly feral brethren…sitting in a blank stare, correcting their child simple “No’s” and “Don’t do that’s” without an explanation as to why the answer is so.  I’ve seen Mothers completely absorbed in their own children, too busy for Mommy politic’in.  I’ve seen Mothers desperate for a friend…desperate to find someone to help them along their journey into Motherhood.

This morning I took Ayden Zen and little Harper Tribann to our closest local library branch.  When we arrived, I stood outside the Library door and began to teach Ayden the rules of the library.  The three rules that we must remember when we are in the library.

1. We must keep our voices low, because people often come to the library to learn.
2. There is absolutely NO RUNNING in the library.  Running is loud and dangerous indoors.
3. We have to ask our feet to be slow.  No stomping allowed!  Stomping is loud!  The library is quiet.

We walked directly into the Children’s section.  I held Ayden’s hand until we made it behind the book barrier that served as the children’s section wall.  He was given the option to go to listen to the stories and songs at story time, or to have time learning on the library computer.  He chose the computer.  Once his computer time had ended, we went to the playtime period that takes place after every story time.

Three Mothers were attending this morning’s story time.  Each Mother had two children.  One Mother had two boys. One Mother had two girls.  The third Mother had a boy and a girl.  I felt my heart unleash something within.  I felt a tug and immediate pull to talk to these women about their experience in attempting to be present for two children at all times.  To be TRULY present for BOTH children.  How hard is that?  VERY! 

Today I put it together that the severe eczema outbreak that I described in a blog of my past, Dyshidrotic Eczema:  A Concerning Malady of Cause and Effect, happened as I began the process of trying to figure out just that.  How could I be as present for my second soon as I was for my first son…all while my first son still expects my full presence?  Deep stuff. 

The answer to that, I have found out so far as a new Mother who was raised without a strong female role model?  You have to teach them to LEARN to love each other and to share their Mother.  Difficult to teach a 9 month old beautiful boy without words.  And there you have it.  Baby steps.  There’s a regular term for the stroll/run/sprint down the path I’m taking into Motherhood.  I also have to make sure that I keep my feet on the ground.  That I take quiet, intentional steps.  That I NOT RUN into this process.  That I let it happen.  That I be in the moment.  That I slow down.
That I continue to strive to live in the present moment, always. For my boys, for myself, for life.

Be here now.