The Mommy Bubble

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This past television and movie award season was the first one I didn’t even watch.  I wasn’t the least bit interested in any of it.  Now as an actor, that is odd.  I mean, it is something all actors look forward to.  Receiving our SAG nominated films in the mail for viewing and voting on….the Oscar buzz…and finally the events themselves.  The red carpet, the speeches, the wins and misses.  This year, I could care less. And I don’t even care that I don’t care.  This year it all seemed trivial.  This year it all seemed a life time away.  You see, this year I have my little O.  And everything else is small potatoes.

Its not just the movies that don’t matter to me right now….it’s pretty much everything.  Everything except O, my husband, and my family.  I don’t know what is current in any sense, from the news to music to fashion (unless it’s baby boy wear). I don’t know what the new hot products are (unless we are talking baby gear)  or who the new hot faces are selling them.  It’s like I am in a bubble….a mommy bubble.  It’s a real thing.  I imagine the bubble will burst one day, and life will return to “normal.” But I’m kind of loving it right now.  I love this little creature who has consumed my life…who is my top priority…who is our everything, right now.  Does that change? Will it seem different as he gets older? Does every mother feel this way? Have I completely lost perspective?

I used to to read the paper and watch CNN.  I used to watch The State of the Union address faithfully.  I think I missed this one, eh? Heck, I used to read books.  Lots of books.  It’s all on the back burner for now.  Heck, I don’t really have time to write this blog.  It gets done during nap time or occasionally if I have enough steam left in me after O’s bedtime.  I literally feel like I don’t have time for much of anything but O right now.  His needs are big and it seems that everything I do,  every choice I make, I must take his needs and his schedule into consideration.  I guess that would create a bit of a bubble, eh?

I just wonder if it’s because I am older that I willingly succumb to the bubble? I feel pretty comfortable missing things.  I don’t look over my shoulder and long for the past.  I had a pretty rocking life so far…and like I said before, this is not peaches and cream all the time.  Sometimes it’s poops and screams….but I’m not longing for anything else at this moment.  I certainly don’t feel I have “my own thing” to worry about…..at least not right now.  Maybe I’m fooling myself.  I might wake up a few years from now and wonder what the hell have I been doing?  Ah, but right now, I’m protected by the Mommy Bubble.

I notice a lot of mothers on Facebook groups and mommy bloggers, commenting and writing about fighting for their “me time” or dreams unrealized and a longing for their “own life” back.  It is a huge  common theme among moms.  Needing the  “me time” I get.  A few hours a week is key to remaining psychologically healthy.  It’s called taking care of yourself, in my book. Doesn’t matter what you do with that time, but preferably it isn’t laundry. Especially laundry that isn’t your own. But as far as having dreams unrealized? Or wishing for days gone by? Not me.  Like I said, maybe it’s because I’m older and have done pretty much everything I’ve ever wanted to do. Gone everywhere I’ve wanted to go. (Except an African safari).  The point is, that I don’t feel I’m missing something if I am in THIS moment.  It lets me enjoy THIS time.

My 20’s and 30’s were spent constantly racing after something….a job, a boy, you name it.  I always felt I had to have my hands in about 20 different pots to ensure I’d wind up with something.  Be it, the job, the boyfriend, etc. When I turned 40, something clicked in me.  The slow motion switch turned on and I realized I could actually enjoy the choices I was making.  I didn’t have to run to the next one, be it job, boyfriend, etc.  So this feeling of enjoying where I am at, had been steeping in me for a few years already.  Now with O, he demands I live in the moment.  Because with him, that’s the way it is.  Babies don’t think about the future or the past….just what’s right in front of them.  How smart they are!!!

If I was in my 20’s or even 30’s having O, I don’t know I would feel as I do now.  In fact, I assure you, I would most likely feel like “my” life got shorted in some way.  Not that I wouldn’t be completely in love with my child and feel completely blessed, as I am sure all mothers do…but I have a hunch I would be thinking about the day I might get “my” life back to do the things “I” wanted to do, but didn’t get the chance to yet.  I have a friend, Bree O’Connor, who is a talented artist/writer, who wrote an essay, Over It, on her site, Born Bree.  She writes about her fantasy of running away from her kids and her husband to explore the life she wanted before she ever had them.  The problem with the plan was that she knew she would never be able to breathe without them.  Her love for them was like oxygen.  My blurb doesn’t do the ferocious, eloquent honesty justice…but you can take a read, if you click the link.  I felt her passion.  I sympathized with her need to scream and run.  I related to her unequivocal love for her children. And I understood that had I had O when she had her children, I would, no doubt,  be feeling just like her.

I understand I took a big gamble waiting to have a baby.   And I am not telling women to wait to have children, necessarily.  Trust me, there are a lot of things that are not so super about having a baby at the tender age of 44….Like my aching back and my growing crow’s feet, among a hundred other things.   But I LOVE my mommy bubble….it’s like a little cocoon…and I’m fully aware that I have drank the Kool-Aid on this one.  Knowing my younger self better than I did when I WAS my younger self, I can tell you this level of contentment would not have been possible.  I was not emotionally mature enough nor was my ego ready to step aside. But now, there is really something to be said for being truly content in any moment, especially one that involves your own little miracle.   At my advanced maternal age of 44,  I say Bring On the Bubble!   Heck, if it came with 8 hours of uninterrupted nightly sleep, I’d never leave.