I've been mulling this post in my head for a little while. Time to try to put words to paper. Consider this a musing in progress.

I have these pebbles in my shoes. Tiny little pebbles that are kind of annoying, but they're also shiny and--oh they glitter!!!--and even though they rub against my skin, they're mine, so I just keep on walking with them. I'm used to them. In fact, they're comforting. It's good to have a constant, something you can count on, even if it's kind of bothersome.

But I want to take these pebbles out and look at them. Give them names. Get to know what they are in fact and once I've looked at them, studied them, weighed them and felt them, really felt them, I want to start tossing them out. Lighten my load.

Yeah yeah, banal platitudes. But not really. How many parents out there--women especially because we're socialized to do this--carry around guilty feelings that we're not spending enough quality time with our kids? One of my pebbles has guilt written all over it. It's probably the biggest one. And there are the others: the "what about me" pebble, the "am I good enough" pebble, the "am I doing the right thing" pebble and so forth. I would sink in a heartbeat.

In fact, there are times that I do feel like I'm sinking. So I watch tv instead of grabbing a good book or writing down my thoughts and feelings out loud. I eat more crap than I should--even while David has ramped up his "we need to eat healthy food" cooking and the fridge is filled with wholesome food. I drag my feet to the gym too infrequently. But most of all, I run, even though it hurts my skin and makes me limp.

So this is me stopping. By owing up to me. This is my way, just my way.

***

What the heck do you do at home when you have a kid? Ever since Ruby was born I haven't felt like I can do my own things while she's awake. Which is, you know, most of the time. (Oh, lets save another post for what I do when I do have free time.)

I either play with her, encourage her to play by herself or just let her watch tv (yeah, too much tv, have to figure that one out too). And when I'm not playing with her, I'm busy with silly stuff. Making her lunch for school, dishes, tidying up, getting ready for the next rushed morning. But seriously, we're really a little family, so the chores don't take that long.

I just hang around. Flutter by my email but I don't really sit and write. I always have a good book around, piles in fact, but I don't sit down and read. So I'll get on Ruby's case to go outside and do something. Which she loves. Which I love because it's not hanging around at home not knowing what to do with myself. And I am home a lot more than I used to be, for such an oh so awesome babe.

Sure Ruby will interrupt. But she knows how to give us space. David takes that space, with his music, with his newspaper, with his work. But I just feel listless.

At first I thought I needed a hobby. I tried knitting (thanks Amanda!), but didn't stick with it.

So what gives? Part of it feels like I'm still adjusting (why does it take so long?) to being a parent and losing a huge chunk of myself. Now I can get myself back, at least way more than when she was a baby, but it won't be the same me and not in the same way I used to be able to be me.

That makes sense right? Sure, sure, lose one thing and gain something unimaginable. Like another MN says, watching your heart outside your body kind of amazing. But it's also confusing.

And surely this round shiny--oh glitter!!!--smooth pebble has other sides to it that I'm not getting or seeing. I know, a pebble with sides. Probably edges knowing myself.

I'm turning it over to you all. I've got to figure it out because I want to start by tossing this one pebble. Tell me if you recognize this. Suggestions for lifting my step?