Note to Kerri & friends: Keep Paddling
February 26, 2013 in New Zealand, Oceania, Travelogue
The river water is almost icy cold, rushing past the bank and over the rocks with a happy gurgling, before it sweeps around the bend and downstream. The little turnout we bathed in is cool, and clear and deep; almost completely still, in stark contrast to the tumbling flow just a stone’s throw away. We warned the boys to keep well inside the line of the current as they splashed like seals on the warm rocks that knelt at the edge of the pool.
I’ve been thinking about rivers and life today…
As I’ve gone about my work, cooking, cleaning, playing a card game with the boys, writing a little, diving hard into the icy water to rinse the soap out of my hair and eyes and coming up gasping. I got an email recently that is responsible for the pondering. Kerri, mother of three, including twin 1.5 year olds, wrote the following:
When I was younger my life was like a river…plunging forward, both formed and forming the life and objects around it. But now that river has lost momentum. Nothing as dramatic as turing into a stagnating lagoon but definitely more formed than forming. More static than motion.
Her imagery has captured my imagination this morning and I can’t help following the flow.
I’m not a stranger to that feeling of near stagnation; I suspect it’s common to every mother who has been at it for more than five minutes. The glossy brochures that lure us into this family raising business aren’t exactly truth in advertising, are they?
- I remember well the decade that I was either pregnant or nursing, often with someone (quite literally) hanging off the hem of my skirt.
- I remember having two four year olds, a two year old and new baby in a second story walk-up apartment in Chicago with no family nearby, no friends and no support system, and a husband whose job took him traveling at least 3 days a week.
- I remember the exhausting cycle of feed, sleep, bathe, wash, play that was toddlerhood times four or five, depending on how you count our kids.
- I remember feeling extremely “lucky” if I could carve out thirty minutes to myself to read or write in a day and wondering if it would ever end.
- I remember looking around and feeling like everyone else’s lives were more exciting than mine.
I remember. It’s why I’ll go miles out of my way to help or encourage a mom with young kids; because it’s unimaginably hard work, and some days, the stagnant pool threatens to drown you.
But life is a river, after all…
… and what seems to screech to a halt in a sluggish pond after the white water ride of your life isn’t actually stagnant. Still waters run deep. There is motion, even if it is far below the surface, even if you can’t see it right now, even if all evidence seems to the contrary. It may be true that the water isn’t carrying you forward, but if you’ll keep paddling, you’ll catch up to the flow.
Blog reading can be an insidious thing. It tempts a person to compare his weaknesses to someone else’s strengths; her deep, still pond where baby fish are safe to grow, to someone else’s white water raft ride through an echoing canyon. Rivers have both, so do lives.
Right now, people reading our blog get to travel vicariously through our adventures across continents. It’s exciting, it seems glamorous, it feels like we have all the luck and a perfect existence crafted from postcard slideshows. Some people love the ride, other people feel stuck in their pond, I know, because I get both kinds of email.
Here’s something I’d like you to remember, if you fall into the second category, reading my stories, or anyone else’s:
What you are reading, are snapshots from a life, not the sum total; just like the postcard from a river trip with everyone smiling and whooping through the rapids. What you don’t see are the long slow slogs, the hard paddles to get there, or the carrion birds circling when things stagnate. Our stories are the two inches of top water on our lives, and far from the whole story.
To Kerri, and the other folks who feel like they’re stuck in the stagnant part of the river, my encouragement is to keep paddling, and trust the flow. It’s there. The hard work you’re putting in now is what will build your strength for the strenuous parts and equip your kids not to fall off of the raft when the adventures get bigger than you bargained for.
RSS - Posts
As one who’s spent more than just a bit of “river time” with you…AMEN! I’ve lived a few of these blog posts…written a few myself, and it’s absolutely true…the worst days make for the best blog posts! Those days that are over the top awful, you WILL laugh at later…maybe years later, but you will laugh. I remember when 4 kids under 5 seemed like a lot, and it was…but you blink and those same four are fabulous teens & pre-teens, not to mention I now have 3 more that are 4-7, and somehow they seem easier than the first 4.
Part of it is the extra help that the big kids give, but part of it quite honestly is perspective. The realization that the still waters that you feel trapped in now are just around the bend from a huge rushing rapid. So enjoy the quiet still waters. I’d like to call it a lazy river, but I know it doesn’t feel like it at the time. Try to grasp childhood and hold fast to the memories, but it flows through your fingers like a mighty rushing river leaving you with a big grin and many soggy memories.
Lois… indeed… perspective… too bad we can’t bottle that and sell it, eh? We’d make a million and I’d PAY a million to have it from those up stream most days!! 🙂
I have to echo the words of wisdom here! Having raised six, I well remember when they were all small & their Daddy was out of town & other women’s days seemed far more exciting than mine. Those years of faithful investment into those lives, day after ordinary day, have lead to wonderful years with young adults and adults who are truly a blessing and we’ve gotten to enjoy many adventures together. Do not grow weary in doing good, for in due time you will reap your reward!
Thanks everyone for your honest writings-I remember taking my first child to get weighed at the clinic and bursting into tears, explaining to the health visitor that everyone else in the waiting room looked so much happier than me, and that they were all coping so well , even though most of the mums were a lot younger than me. That wise lady said,”The next mum who comes into my room will probably say the same thing about you-you put on such a good show Melanie, everyone comments on how relaxed you are.” I laughed so hard. She finished up by telling me she was always amazed at how she saw the true side of motherhood when mums walked through her door, yet they wouldn’t share what they were feeling with other people who would have appreciated their honesty.The fear of appearing a “bad” mum!
I still need a reminder every now and then, to stop comparing myself to others (remember the education dillema Jennifer?), but I am always careful to tell new mums the truth and help them in any way.
Beautifully said. I remind myself that these days will go quickly and pretty soon that flow will take off, with gusto.
Melanie… yes, exactly, we need to help each other more and work together as mums, it’s a tough job!
Love it! I like to check on your blog when I am in stagnant pond mode. We are back in USA in my hometown now, and I was longing for adventure and dreamy looking at old trave pictures today. But the day did not bring a trip to Budapest, but to Trader Joe’s sans the kids. I wondered if everyone in the grocery store was questioning why I was beaming and nearly dancing in the aisles, but it was simply one of those times the store with out kids, with out a baby in a sling or a hand on your hem, feels like a vacation. Mine are almost 2, almost 4, and just 8. Enjoy your adventures, and thanks for the encouragement and inspiration. Our day for adventure will come too…but still enjoying what we got, refilling on home and community for now.
Good for you Heidi!! Enjoy the day, whatever it brings. I remember those days, when a trip to the grocery alone (or with just one) was like a free pass!! There are seasons, to be sure. The only trick seems to be in finding joy in the moment you are in. Keep going… and thanks for your kind words, so glad you enjoy reading along and it lifts you up a little.