Bird by Bird (and Pumpkins)

Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he'd had three months to write. [I]t was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother's shoulder, and said, "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird."

— from Bird by Bird: Instructions for Writing and Life, by Anne Lamott

It has been a long time since I have posted. I blame this on the start of the fall semester, which occupies nearly every last minute of my time that is not already occupied by parenting and chores.

It is hard not to feel overwhelmed sometimes by the lessons to be prepared, the stacks and stacks of homework to be graded that never quite seem to go away, the meetings to attend, the e-mails to answer. And then there is the laundry, which I'm doing much more frequently since our foray into potty-training began in June (and we are definitely still training, as evidenced by my sweet boy's insistence on pooping in his Thomas the Tank Engine underpants). And grocery-shopping. And cooking. And cleaning. And maybe even some sleep once in a while.

I don't mean to whine. I read on Facebook this morning that a friend just got laid off from her job. I am thankful for my good job, my safe home, my healthy family. I am not unlike any other mom, because let's face it: Once we have a baby, we all work, all of time. It's just that some of us have to/get to leave and work elsewhere, depending on one's perspective.

Most days, I do instead of think. Thinking is what leads to me feeling overwhelmed. And when I begin to feel like the piles of paper and dirty clothes and unwashed dishes are getting a little too large, too tall, too precarious, I find myself returning to Anne Lamott's words. I hear myself thinking the words "Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird" in my head. And it works (mostly).

A little more than a year ago, when I turned 34, I made a list of 34 things I wanted to start doing in order to keep organized and keep sane. I still like to do as much as I can the night before—my ultimate lifesaver for busy mornings. I've been inconsistent with planning a weekly menu, and I'm sorry to report that my Crock-Pot hasn't gotten much use in the past year.

But what have I done? Yoga — finally! I started doing it in May, and I don't think it's an overstatement when I say that it's changed my life. For starters, the jiggly bits are a bit less jiggly. (Be gone, granny arms!) I'm definitely more flexible. My pregnancy back pain that hung around after the pregnancy was over is gone. I sleep better. And I'm a lot more calm. A. Lot.

There are lots of good life lessons to learn from yoga. Focus on the moment. Be compassionate with yourself. You are stronger than you think. Let your practice or pose meet you instead of the other way around. Stay balanced. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe again.

When I started taking classes, I felt guilty about flying out the door just minutes after Scott got home from work. I didn't like missing Benjamin's bedtime (and I still don't). It's a little selfish and indulgent of me to take yoga classes two or three times a week, but it's making me a better mother, a better wife, a better teacher, and an overall better me.

Bird by bird. One e-mail at a time. One paper at a time. One lesson at a time. One pose at a time. One breath in, one breath out. I can only do what I can do, as much or as little as that means for that moment.

I'm starting to feel OK with that.

And now, as promised, pumpkins. I took these shots during a rainy trip to our local pumpkin patch. Fall is my favorite season, and part of my ritual is bedecking the front porch and the insides of the house with pumpkins galore. This farm grows all different kinds of pumpkins, from itty-bitty baby pumpkins to gnarly Red Warty pumpkins. (Seriously, that's what they're called.) My favorites are the Fairy-Tale pumpkins, which are a strange pale orange mixed with some green and gray.

Between the rain and my son, who would not stay next to me as instructed (shocker!), I didn't get as many as I wanted (pumpkins or photographs). Until next time ...

Comments

[stephanie]

Thanks, Leah! I really enjoy reading your blog, too!