I've had the blues the past few days. Being a parent is a great joy. However, there are some things that come with it that I did not anticipate. It is boring and I feel isolated. Making and maintaining friendships is either 1) more difficult or 2) more needed. On most days, I could sit home, doing chores without a single person calling, texting, or reaching out to me in any way. In turn, my brain feels dull. What could I possibly have to say or contribute to anyone or anything? I ask myself that when I am feeling blue. I've felt blue a lot lately.
So, this is some brainstorming writing. There are things I enjoy and things I find interesting. Lately, of course between my marriage to an Indian and the birth of our half-Indian/half-White son, I've been thinking a lot about the things I want him to know about his family. There's a lot. There are so many people I wish he had a chance to know. There are things I hope he has the opportunity to see. And, of course, there are opportunities that Arvind and i need to create for him. There are things I want him to understand, much of which I don't even understand now. There are simple things like what is the necklace that he likes to play with so much? Why do I wear it? What is it called? What is its symbolism? There are a lot more complicated things, like the nature of mistakes and how they don't have to define you. That's it's okay to forgive yourself when you do make mistakes. (This is something I have struggled with my whole life, and, in a fouled-up circular pattern, I continually punish myself for mistakes, creating layers of guilt upon guilt. What if I decided to not hold onto the guilt? I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. I don't want my fouled-up self-esteem to be something I hand over to my son.) I want him to know about the importance of music. I want him to know about taking risks--even though I've rarely taken any.
I created a writing schedule earlier last week. What a bunch of phooey. I will write about things as they come to me. The more important thing is that I write. If I can write, even a little, every day in the context of the baby, the chores, the cooking, the cleaning, the exercising, the utter lack of good sleep, then I am doing well enough. Go easy on yourself when it comes to this, McHale.
I miss my last name. Arvind once told me he wanted me to take his name. Then, after we were married and I changed my name, he said it wasn't that important to him. Sometimes he is a totally inconsistent asshole. I'd hope it's not intentional, but he does a really great job of jerking me around sometimes. I'd much rather that he had taken my name--as if that would have ever been an option. I wish he was as liberal and forward thinking as he likes to think he is sometimes.
On a related note, I need to get better about taking a stand on all fronts.
So, this is some brainstorming writing. There are things I enjoy and things I find interesting. Lately, of course between my marriage to an Indian and the birth of our half-Indian/half-White son, I've been thinking a lot about the things I want him to know about his family. There's a lot. There are so many people I wish he had a chance to know. There are things I hope he has the opportunity to see. And, of course, there are opportunities that Arvind and i need to create for him. There are things I want him to understand, much of which I don't even understand now. There are simple things like what is the necklace that he likes to play with so much? Why do I wear it? What is it called? What is its symbolism? There are a lot more complicated things, like the nature of mistakes and how they don't have to define you. That's it's okay to forgive yourself when you do make mistakes. (This is something I have struggled with my whole life, and, in a fouled-up circular pattern, I continually punish myself for mistakes, creating layers of guilt upon guilt. What if I decided to not hold onto the guilt? I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. I don't want my fouled-up self-esteem to be something I hand over to my son.) I want him to know about the importance of music. I want him to know about taking risks--even though I've rarely taken any.
I created a writing schedule earlier last week. What a bunch of phooey. I will write about things as they come to me. The more important thing is that I write. If I can write, even a little, every day in the context of the baby, the chores, the cooking, the cleaning, the exercising, the utter lack of good sleep, then I am doing well enough. Go easy on yourself when it comes to this, McHale.
I miss my last name. Arvind once told me he wanted me to take his name. Then, after we were married and I changed my name, he said it wasn't that important to him. Sometimes he is a totally inconsistent asshole. I'd hope it's not intentional, but he does a really great job of jerking me around sometimes. I'd much rather that he had taken my name--as if that would have ever been an option. I wish he was as liberal and forward thinking as he likes to think he is sometimes.
On a related note, I need to get better about taking a stand on all fronts.
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