Being mama and human at the same time

I'm playing nice on my family blog. Keeping it upbeat (as much as possible with my glass-is-almost-empty tendencies), trying to keep it clean. Always the focus on my sweet Little Man, making sure his days are there for friends and family to see. And I'm having fun with it. Really. I like to see what people (as few as there may be) have to say, and enjoy getting calls or emails about how people are checking in on it regularly to see what's going on. Silly me - I always assume no one is interested.

But. My life is a confluence of things right now that have me baffled and off kilter. If I'm honest, it's really been since my son was born, or at least after his first year. I turned 40 last year. My dearest friend (and walking partner and chosen sister) moved away when he was five months old, leaving me a bit emotionally destitute. My husband struggled through his master's thesis, and that painful process was not life affirming, especially since it happened while I nursed and nursed our chubby, insistent baby. I stopped working to stay home with the Super Sucker after working since I was 11. I got fat after baby, then finally got thinner. Oh, did I mention, I turned 40??

Things that I avoided dealing with, childhood deficits, repercusions of decisions, all seemed to gang up on me and rush me, knocking me to the ground. I think I banged my head. Having this gift of a child enter my life forced it all up into my face. If you don't deal with why you are the way you are, how events have shaped you, then you cannot parent with some purpose. One of my biggest nightmares is waking up when Little Man is 20, not knowing why I did the things I did with him; how will I explain it to him if I don't know waht it is??

I didn't expect this, this isolation that comes with being at-home mom. I'm sure I fantasized about the big group of mamas I would be a part of. All of us with kids, trading stories, tips, child care, hanging out at each other's homes, chatting on the phone. I just figured it came with the territory. I couldn't have been more wrong. Instead I have had some of my loneliest and darkest moments.

I suppose I want a place to go beneath all the daily stuff that comes with motherhood. There really is a dark underbelly, one that rarely sees the light of day. As much joy as my son has brought me, as much insight as he has unleashed in my life, there is an equal amount of uncertainty and confusion.

That's what this is.