Thursday, October 14, 2010

I wanna rock and roll

I wanna rock-n-roll
I wanna give my soul
I'm wanting to believe
I'm not too old (or pregnant)

Save You from Matthew Perryman Jones' 2008 album Swallow the Sea (parenthesis mine)

This is the season where every part of me starts to rebel against being pregnant, where my fitful dreams are filled with longings and bits and scraps of my history.  And some little selfish part of myself starts whispering in my ear that if I give all of myself to loving these children and being in this season of motherhood, I will eventually lose all of the things that made me.  I know it's a lie, but the fears still linger.  Next month, my 34th birthday will roll around and I'll still be growing this little boy inside me.  My 30's seem to be destined to be focused solely on the raising of these children and I honestly don't know how music (at least the agsty chick folk rock that I loved doing before Cora) fits into that.

Not that music is gone from my life.  I find myself playing children's songs for wild gangs of pre-schoolers in the basement of the local library branch and loving every moment of it.  But that little fear whispers that when my children are old enough for me to go back to music as a job, then I will be too old.  Some of that is the reality of the music industry, but most of that is what I tell myself in the dark moments when I am sick of the monotony of washing the same dishes over and over, of planning meals and cooking for my family every. single. day., and waking up in pain because my body does not like being pregnant. 

It's that old lie of finding my worth in what others think of me.  I play it on repeat like a cassette tape that automatically flips to the other side and just keeps going. (Remember that?)  I want some reassurance in the future that I will be worth something to people whose opinions, in truth, don't matter.  It's my reality today.  Even if, in the light of day, I can set it aside and say to myself, "that's not what's important". In the dark, between trips to the bathroom, it comes back in the yearnings of my dreams and how does one surrender their secret dreams?  I haven't figured out that yet.  I do my best to not let them bleed into the dawn and turn the sunrise to gray.


JennShaw Traynor said...

Ariana, You are speaking my language. I contantly remind myself that these years will be gone in a flash, but I think the monotony drags me down. It's hard to remember some days that child-rearing is some of who I am, but not all of who I am. Sigh...what are you going to do! I guess I'll go love on some babies!
Hang in there with the pregnancy!

Suburban Turmoil said...

It's true that motherhood just lasts for a season, and I think that even in the monotony you'll find that you're more creative down the road because you've experienced a new depth of emotion with your child, if that makes any sense. :) I'm right on the verge of being finished with early childhood and I'm feeling both nostalgic about an era passing forever and excited about what's to come.

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