In Between Two Worlds
And hello to a new season
“I balancing mama,” Halle shouted as her feet carefully totted on the ledge of the sidewalk, near the road. One foot in front of the other. Arms spread wide like the wings of a plane.
“You are! You’re balancing!” I shared in her excitement and pride. “Do you want my hand?” I offered as I held my palm out towards hers.
She’d taken me up on this offer many times in the past but this time was different. Her eyes furrowed and her left hand tucked under her other arm quickly. “I do it myself,” she firmly gave her answer.
I smiled slightly, watching my big girl, doing big girl things. “Okay bunny, you can do it!”
We continued on our walk. The clouds were grey and puddles cover the sidewalks and crevices between the ledge and the road. Halle wore her pink rainsuit— for maximum puddle jumping abilities. We scoured for nature: walnut shells, pretty leaves or buds, and odd shaped rocks. We stuffed our pockets with items we thought were worthy enough to come home with us. We explored a field nearby under an apple tree. A few apples hung on to the tree, but the majority of them scattered the field, broken apart and rotten. Rainproof shoes give you the ability to stomp on just about anything, even rotten fruit, just to see what’ll happen.
Somehow we wandered all the way to the park without our stroller, but eventually the wind started to breeze through our coats. Her hands were red and cold to the touch. I convinced her to start making the trek home and we did just that, fingers interlaced together, hers in mine. We ran, a toddler pace, giggling as we went— until she tripped on her pink rubber boot and landed on two frozen hands. Tears flowed down her cherry cheeks. She stood still. Frozen. Partly from the pain and partly from the sheer cold.
I scooped her up into my arms and settled her on top of my growing belly, one leg dangling on each side of me. Mud and rain drops smearing alongside my coat. Her face buried into my neck as I soaked up her tears like a sponge. Her body perfectly molded and melted into mine. I strengthened my back and plopped her up another inch as I lugged both my toddler and baby belly the rest of the way home— delighted that she’s still my baby too.
//
She lives in between two worlds right now.
As a toddler, she toggles back and forth between big kid and baby.
In one world she’s big. She uses the potty and climbs in and out of her bed. She no longer nurses and spreads butter on her own toast. She zips her own coat and pulls her boots up. She holds her scissors just right, “chop chop, thumb on top,” and the phrase “I do it myself” is a common one throughout the day.
In the other world, she still craves to be our baby. She insists on rubbing my ear lobe every morning when she drinks a cup of milk. Sometimes she just so happens to “forget” how to do certain tasks, simply for an extra dose of connection with one of us. She needs plenty of kisses before bed. And of course, she wants to be scooped up when she’s hurt and carried home.
//
I live in between two worlds too.
I long to be the nurturing mother God created me to be. Fully equipped and dignified. (Often failing because I’m imperfect and in need of my Savior, daily).
I long to create and pursue the dreams that swirl in my head.
I don’t know if two worlds is the best way to phrase my heart, because these longings of mine are meshed together, intertwined, and entangled. Neither can be separated from the other and each “world” makes the other richer, more beautiful, and full of meaning.
Ashlee Gadd writes in her book Create Anyways, “Both motherhood and creativity have taught me to be brave, to relentlessly seek beauty and joy among the mundane, to notice the remarkable grace flooding my unremarkable life.'“
She calls these two things roles, and I like that description.
But sometimes my roles clash.
I want to pour over the pages of my bible each morning but sometimes my tiny human wakes up early and climbs on the couch cushions, pleading for my attention.
I want to dip my paintbrush in color and swipe it across paper but after a few minutes of creating alongside motherhood, the water cup is knocked on the floor, paint is heading towards her mouth, or she’s simply done with the activity.
I want to get up before the crack of dawn or utilize nap time more wisely so I can write, but at the same time, I’m growing a baby and I desperately need sleep whenever I can grab hold of it.
I cling to creativity during days like these, when my two roles clash, by building towers with legos, and trying out new play dough recipes, molding that dough into birthday cakes with candles, and I search for wonder and possibility within the treasures we find outside.
//
A few weeks ago I met with a writing mentor of mine to go over some goals and dreams for the coming year. Then she asked it, “how many months do you have left until baby arrives?”
Oh yeah. I forgot I’m about to have a baby. “Three,” I slowly reply.
“The first few months with a new baby are always a bit of a haze for me. Consider keeping your journal nearby and simply capturing moments when you can.”
As we enter a new year, I’m reminded that I’m saying hello to a new season as well. One that brings the return of diapers and late night nursing sessions, baby wearing and postpartum hormones. One that brings a little more sacrifice and a little less independence.
A change in stamina.
I hope this time is different than the last. I’m clinging to that hope. That this time I won’t feel the need to get back on my feet so quickly. That this time I’ll enjoy the snuggles and won’t worry about ruining sleep habits. That I’ll ask for help more often and accept lunch. But also, that I’ll still scribble in my journal when I have a free moment, so I won’t forget all the little things. That I’ll pour over the pages of my bible even when it’s not perfectly quiet. That I’ll make time for me and motherhood, these two things that can’t be separated, so entangled and intertwined.
I want both things. To dream and create. To nurture and mother.
And the two go hand in hand.
Kendra
This post is part of a blog hop with Exhale—an online community of women pursuing creativity alongside motherhood, led by the writing team behind Coffee + Crumbs. Click here to view the next post in the series "Hello", by Joy Nicholas.
What kind of season do you find yourself in, heading out of, or into?
Love the watercolor photo with this one!
Beautiful! So much of life, I think, is the in between, and it’s good to recognize rather than wish for what’s ahead or long for what’s behind. 💗