Baby Zand pampering me on Mother's Day :-)
I have not felt in love with my blog this year. I feel rushed putting up recipes and exercise videos that I have tweaked for weeks, sometimes months. So often it’s just a quick “I love this so much, give it a try”, but there is no love or a story in my posts anymore. I feel like I am just trying to get posts done between taking puppy Haigo for a walk and picking up Baby Zand, quickly typing everything up so it can go live, and you can have something delicious in your kitchen again, or a way to stay fit on the road. I feel like I have lost the whole reason why I initially started this blog. To write. To write about life and work and motherhood and health and illness and trying to do it all. I wanted a place where my thoughts could go, and hopefully help someone to not feel so alone. Over the years I have taken so many online classes and courses on how to make your blog pretty/ read/ successful/ searchable/ profitable/ not go under in the endless sea of blogs about everything and anything, and it has moved away from what I love doing… which is making things yummy and easy to understand, and writing about life that we are all living, yet are too scared, shy, or lonely to really talk about.
So that is what I am doing now. I have decided I don’t care if the numbers of readers are going up, if more people are reposting my stuff or if anyone actually comments and reads. I just want this to be my place to write, and maybe it will resonate with someone, maybe it won’t. But either way, I will have a fabulous time doing it. So today here is my first post on just some thoughts about motherhood. This will not be a weekly or monthly thing with timed content for the bots to feel happy. This will just be me, whenever I feel like it :-). So feel free to join in the conversation in the comments or leave me a love note, or don’t. It’s all good!
Today after I picked up Baby Zand we were standing in 45 minutes of traffic. This is longer than usual because summer break has started, and it feels like everyone is off to somewhere fabulous, enjoying the first real sunshine of the year, and making the most of less wind that usually blows us off the streets here in Berkeley. At a red light with music from Moana blasting in our car I look over to my left. There is a mom. She has two car seats in the back of her blue Prius. She is standing at the red light. One hand holds a jar of Skippy’s peanut butter. The other hand is hovering over it, then she dips her index finger into the jar, licks it off, closes her eyes, and even though her windows are up, I can hear her sigh. This moment lasts only a split second, but I feel like I was right there with her, witnessing something so private, and yet so relatable. I see her. I see every single mother who is running around all day long trying to keep her kids alive and trying to do it all, with no time to have lunch, and then resorting to a jar of peanut butter in the car at 3.38pm. I see that the only moment we ever get to take a deep breath is the time when our kids are strapped into their car seats unable to run around and crash into things or climb on top of the stove (although Baby Zand has figured out how to unbuckle herself, so that has been a lot of fun in the middle of the freeway!). I feel sad for her. For me. For all of us. And yet also somehow relieved. Relieved that someone else is in the same boat, as just a week ago I was standing at exactly the same light wolfing down a to-go bowl from my favorite Cafe Umami. Relieved that I am not the only one who has trouble fitting it all into my day. Relieved that someone else out there is thinking "how did I end up with this life where I spoon peanut butter out of a jar with my finger in the car?!?" Sometimes I mourn my old self. The one that ran a business, used her brain, and had a purpose outside of cleaning up poop both from my child and my dog. I love being a mother. It has been a thrilling ride. But sometimes I just feel sad, and I know you do, too. And even if we never talk about it, know that I see you, I feel you, and I cheer for you. And I will hand you the jar of peanut butter in times of need!