Mommy, You're Hurting My Ears

It's day 3 and as I sit here I'm distracted by the yelling of my 20 month old who has decided that he no longer likes to sleep. It was exactly a year ago that he, at 9-10 months old, decided he would begin sleeping more than two hours at any given time. I hope we aren't looking at year long cycles...

As a mother, at least for me, it's often difficult to find perspective. Being so completely immersed in the daily functions of life - so much of which does not directly relate to me or my own needs - when I sit down to write I often have nothing to say. My brain is on autopilot. Inspiration outside of my children (who are monumentally inspiring) is sometimes hard to come by.

Becoming a mommy was really my primary goal in life. Having a family was extremely important to me. Old fashioned, maybe, but still the truth. When I made the decision to give up being a singer and actor it was for many reasons but in the end I always said that I would sing to my children and that would fulfill me. That is true and it does.

However, as is the case with plans when we attempt to make them, sometimes when I sing to my kids they say "Stop singing Mommy. You're hurting my ears." The first time my daughter said this to me I laughed because it was funny but it also got me thinking about my mother and grandmother. They made motherhood the primary function and defining factors of their lives and personalities. A fact that was born out of equal parts love and devotion mixed with fear and comfort.

Additionally, we felt the pressure of that commitment. My grandmother loved that I could sing - so much so that she forced me to do so at every holiday, party, and gathering - whether others wanted me to or not. Rarely did she ask me to sing when she and I were alone. It's interesting to think that my talent was somehow a validation of her to others. I'm honored that she thought so highly of me but it was a little much sometimes.  

By no means is this a poor me scenario. I love my mother and adored my grandmother when she was alive, but in navigating this maze I have always struggled to find the balance between self and motherhood. When I was singing to my kids was it for them or me and when the answer is "both" where should the balance lie? So many questions.

I guess in the end there is comfort in the fact that they all request that I sing to them before they go to bed every night. They love to listen to my recordings but they still are not concerned in the least by asking me to be quiet when they've had enough and I don't get offended. Maybe there isn't such a thing as balance and I shouldn't be so analytical - but this seems close enough to me.

Besides, one day they'll be in therapy for something for which I will receive the blame. If it's that I sang too much, well things could be worse...

Good night. Until tomorrow.