Overcome

These days I feel chronically overwhelmed. Today on my way out the door, I spent fifteen minutes looking for my cell phone. Yesterday it was five minutes doing the same. I am always asking my husband, "Do you know where I put that?" "Did you happen to move it?" "Any idea where X could be?" Usually I find it in one of several obvious locations. But some rare times it is in an odd place, like say, the Windex is on top of the refrigerator, or the glass of ice water is next to the shower.

I find myself wondering if my husband is messing with me, if my son is really to blame for hiding these objects, or if I am honestly losing my mind. Hopefully none of the above, but my brain does not seem to be as sharp as it once was. I wonder why this has affected me, and not my husband. He gets the same lack of sleep. Maybe it is some odd shift in hormonal function after you have a child that suddenly makes a woman forgetful. He thinks I ignore him when he asks me to bring him some water, but the truth is, I forget what he said somewhere in those fifteen steps between the time he asks me and the time I get to the kitchen.

I am also losing my sense of motivation. I blame this on motherhood too. We went to our little beginner surfer's beach yesterday. I had many excuses in mind for why I couldn't go out: I had a headache, I was tired, Bodhi wanted me to stay, I had more pressing things to do... I DID build up the nerve to paddle out. So I swim out and find myself bobbing in the waves thinking, this is not safe. What am I doing out here alone? I don't know what I am doing. Maybe I should play it safe. Maybe I should paddle into shore. I paddled into a few waves like a boogie boarder, riding them shortly but without fully committing to a stand. This is our first big winter swell, and the waves were larger than we have seen, and I heard the first break in the distance thundering loudly. By the time they get in to where I am stationed, they are just bumps, but the oncoming white water and pounding sound make me hesitate and think I should go into shore. I sit there for a few minutes, wishing I felt the urge to attack the waves with gusto, like a lioness over her prey. Truth is I feel more like a puppy, wanting to watch from the shore. I don't want to be one of those people that always opts out and sits on the sidelines, I want to be a mother who adventures, takes chances, and learns new things. I want to teach my son he can do anything he sets his mind to do.

When I paddle back into shore, I am both feeling relieved and slightly bothered by this apprehension that I feel in the water. I remember a time when I felt fearless, when I would try anything, when I had more guts. I want to still have that audacity, that reckless abandon for adventure...I want my child to see it, and to also have a carefree courage. But something comes along with motherhood that causes me to take pause, survey the situation for safety, be cautious. It is what also makes me now woozy at high elevations. Heights never bothered me before, I would walk a razor-thin edge out to a clifftop. Now I see them as a danger. I watch these kids in the X-games go flying over a ramp doing backflips on their snowboards, and instead of thinking, 'wow, I wish I could do that'; I think 'Never'. I am gratified by the fact that I at least took the step to swim out there and be amidst the waves feeling these uneasy emotions. I hope it turns into a more fierce determination to overcome this fear and prevail. I want to succeed in surfing and I want to experience new things, but I find those things completely overshadowed by my greater desire to be a mother, to spend time with my son, and to cheer on his successes. Perhaps there is room for a little success and discovery for each of us, if I can only remember how to find it.