For the Time Being

I've had poetry on my mind a lot recently. Discovered that my cousin and I share a similar interest in poetry and have enjoyed swapping favorite stanzas with him over Twitter today. That is what took me to W.H. Auden's "For the Time Being: Christmas Oratorio". Patrick and I have tried each year, over the course of our marriage, to set some time aside each holiday season to read "For the Time Being" together, by a fire, with a glass of wine. And T.S. Eliot's "Four Quartets" (actually, it was you who first introduced me to "April is the cruelest month..."). It has been one of our grounding traditions.

But we haven't done it for a while. Too much to get done over the holiday season. Too much after a full year of pounding our way through the days, weeks, months. Too hard to find time alone. Too much. Too hard. Too little.

All the same reasons I haven't posted here for months! The "bearing it on our shoulders" discussion turned into debilitating pain for me. Pain that brought me to my knees, that has forced me to "pay attention to myself." Pain that has prompted me to put sessions with clinical social worker and massage therapists at the top of the "To Do" list each week. Pain that has miraculously, however, led me back into being.

So, now that I can extend my arm again, I'm reaching out to check on how it's all going with you. I was at a swim meet with Sadie yesterday. After a year of swimming, we are supporting her as she explores the competitive side of swimming. She has done a couple of meets this fall, with me as her ground crew, and it has been a good experience for both of us, I think. She is a strong, beautiful swimmer, who is just starting to realize what her body can do for her. It is very fun to be a part of that discovery.

Seeing her in a swim suit, however, I acknowledge to myself that she and I have made absolutely no headway on the very issue that brought you and I to this blog. She is getting taller, but her weight -- her circumference -- is growing proportionally. And, I say to myself, "Why do I blog? What a waste of time when I can't even help my own daughter. Why do I make our obesity public when I'm not even committed to doing anything about it for her...or me?"

And just about then I strike up a conversation with a "Facebook friend", someone I know casually in the neighborhood and mostly via Facebook. And after a while she says, "I read what you wrote", meaning this blog. And that was it. We could talk about it. About our girls, and why we were giving our Saturday mornings to that damn swim meet, and about our own motivations and barriers for taking care of ourselves, and about the intricate and confusing dance of trying to balance a life, a marriage, a family, a household budget, the self-confidence of all involved, while trying to facilitate an environment of trust and unconditional love. Whew! And, right there on the swim deck, I felt very not alone in all of this that I struggle with every day.

I am so grateful that you have given me this space to talk so candidly. And that from it, other conversations -- personal, painful, growing, supportive conversations -- have blossomed.

So I will continue to contribute and protect this place where we come together -- as mothers, as women who once knew better than anyone else in the world and now have 30 years of time under our belt -- a place where we can come together and just be. For the time being.

And, while I hope I'm not violating Sadie's trust, here's a photo from the meet. Because she's a beautiful, amazing kid, and I'm so grateful that I have been chosen as her ground crew!