Monday, November 18, 2013

Have Baby, Will Blog

Before giving birth I expressed curiosity over whether a baby would inspire me to write.  Well, here I am, writing... so I suppose we have an answer.  But do I have any words worth writing, that is the real question.

Firstly I must acknowledge how incredible it is that I am here at all.  All the parents and people-who-know-parents around us have been in awe of my relaxed and organised state.  It is thanks to a combination of having the most involved, loving, generous and just plain available partner in the known universe, and of being mother to the most relaxed baby I have ever heard of.  Reactions to the latter condition have ranged from highest praise, suggesting that our relaxed attitudes and superior parenting are the cause of our child's calm demeanour (hardly likely), to bitter jealousy.  Never fear jealous parents of difficult babies - he's only 5 1/2 weeks old, there's plenty of time and means yet for him to break mummy's heart.

So, here I am - has the little one given me anything to say?  Well... yes... and no.  About motherhood itself there is both too much and too little to say.  Motherhood is: exhausting, overwhelming, WONDEROUS... and boring as hell.  You don't want to know every detail of his development and my hours, and sometimes, neither do I.  But things are being written, so I must feel there is something to record.

Mostly what I find is that I am interested... a general feeling of interest in things, in understanding this job, and equally in the world outside of it... but my thoughts are scattered.  I'm pleased that things are being written - this blog, my diary, 'correspondence' (as I now refer to emails... it lends them a pleasing poetic weight don't you feel?), and even an attempt at a novel - but it is very difficult to complete a coherent idea, to string the links of thoughts together for analysis or even clarity.  My diary, for example, like my conversation, has some substance, but little structure.  Ideas are repeated, missed and poorly articulated.  A study of my pre and post-baby diary would reveal a sense of the time distortion and interrupted nature of parenthood by its format alone.  Once there was a narrative, and barely an edit to my words; now they come in bursts and dribbles and back-tracking, meandering muses, with sentences crossed-out, re-included then crossed-out again as I attempt to gather the threads of meaning together.

I am reminded of those cruel but fascinating experiments recording the resultant webs of spiders given drugs.  If words are my web, then my brain is on some serious narcotics.

On that thought, I'll end this piece and submit it for public scrutiny, noting that those on drugs are often fascinating to themselves, but tedious to any sane audience.

Thursday, November 14, 2013

On being a writer

I've been trying to write a piece about the weird state of being a writer, but readers will forgive me I think being a bit less than coherent 5 weeks into the new job of being a mother.  Fortunately, a facebook friend posted a gorgeous piece by someone else which beautifully explains much of what I wanted to say.  So, rather than attempting to complete an entire article in the moments between feeding / poop-cleaning / preparing equipment for feeding & poop-cleaning duties, for now I will simply share this lovely item with you all for your enjoyment and education.

The point is, I am in the very strange state-of-being that many a writer is in - of being an introvert (as explained most perfectly in said shared item below), and yet also being incapable of holding myself back from sharing my thoughts and even quite personal feelings publicly.  I can't say what it is that causes us to do this - mere narcissism, the need for validation, or a commendable calling to share our wisdom?  Perhaps fellow writers have a clue.  All I know is that I have to write - putting thoughts into words in non-verbal format is a simple compulsion - but why the need to share the results?  Whatever the cause, it does leave one in a slightly difficult situation.  I've shared myself, and then people (understandably enough) assume I'm open to interaction with them.

I respectfully share the following for your consideration. :)