Or do you just like yourself too much?

So this whole blogging thing has got me thinking. It's obvious I enjoy doing it - I've been on here incessantly over the last few days. But I started feeling a bit strange almost as soon as I came back to it. It was somehow making me feel self-conscious.

This is such a familiar feeling for me - I can't even come close to telling you how many times I've been crippled by insecurity in my daily life (particularly the kind caused by that cruel bitch embarrassment). So, the feeling was instantly recognizable. But it was of odd origin. And my usually level-headed mindset regarding the opinions of others started to wither. I started feeling sure that people were going to get the wrong idea about my intentions. And that they would find me arrogant.

I suppose I should explain. I have always been a bit of an odd duck when it comes to confidence. Can I get on a stage and sing in front of a crowd? Sure, you bet. Can I speak in front of a group? Absolutely. But I am not truly confident in a lot of things - I am especially sensitive to the thoughts of others about who I am. I worry when people don't like me. I get uptight thinking about strangers talking about me. I can be a real shrinking violet, kiddos. Also, a nut.

And from that small cross-section of my brain, an idea grew: Oh my God, when it comes to stroking your ego having a blog might be the ass-kissiest thing a person could do! People are going to think I'm in love with myself. I was instantly horrified.

I could vividly picture any number of my Facebook friends collectively rolling their eyes at my posts. I could hear them making snide remarks over their laptops to partners or friends about their "blogger" friend who's so up her own ass. Typically when I start in with this line of thinking I land here for a beat. You know, spend a few minutes in paranoia-land dreaming up all the awful things people could say. It's pretty dumb really.

Then I took a breath, calmed down a smidge and decided to use my old pal logic. (I know, a truly novel idea.) I thought down to the bare bones of my feelings. Where was all this crap coming from? What was I committing to with this blog? Was it more than I could or wanted to handle? And worst of all, was it some kind of narcissism?

Are you doing it for the right reasons, or do you just like yourself too much?

I decided that what was most important was determining what exactly I felt committing to a blog meant. So I thought about it and came to the conclusion that through attempting to blog I was inferring that I feel I have something of value to say or share. Easy enough.

But, come on. Did I really believe that? Was the viewpoint from my chair one that people would want to see? I immediately felt wrong about saying that it was. I just felt uncomfortable saying it. It did feel a tad arrogant.

Still I felt compelled to write. Still I wanted to share. There must be a way around this. How do all those other bloggers do it? I read lots of blogs and never find myself thinking this way about any of those writers. Why would I hold myself to a standard that I would never exercise on others in a similar situation? I wasn't being very fair.

Since I was probably blowing this whole thing out of proportion, I decided to call in reinforcements and shared my feelings with Ryan. As always, he was excellent for a confidence boost (because he thinks I'm super cool). And just as dependably, he brought something new to the table that I had not yet considered. He brought up the idea of blogger identities being less self-worship and more avatar. Of course the explanation he gave included the word "microcosm"so I'll spare you the rest of it - but, the avatar part really opened up the mindset I had fallen into using.

An avatar. Yeah, I could see how that fits - an extension of self into a foreign space. Really it felt like exactly the right word. Blogging is an odd beast because in many cases it is about sharing your personal life, interests, and work but it is not a mirror. The reader doesn't see everything we are. The blogger decides what to share. They determine what view you see into their world. They fix all the cameras and lights and let you in on the scenes they choose. Color them just so.

So it isn't really about arrogance or self-obsession. It's about creating a world to visit. It's about building a life in an artful manner. It's about creation.

And creating art (no matter how it might be reviewed) is something that interests me very much.

Art. Ish.

Music for Cool People: 11/9/2012

He's a clever lad, that Elton John.

The Naming of Things

When naming this blog, I did quite a bit of thinking. No wait, I barely thought at all. The name just came to me - the thinking part happened afterward when I started to wonder if I had aptly or incorrectly titled this thing.

I mean, a blog is basically just an expression of self, and I was suddenly acutely insecure. I was a new Mom, sure. But was I the "maternal type?" Misrepresentation of self is a sure sign of cognitive dissonance - and I thought I might be cracked here. I moved quickly from worrying about just the title and thick into worrying about the actual consequences of this discovery. Did it mean I wasn't cut out to be a Mom?

You have to remember that I first started writing here (albeit briefly) when Willow was 10 weeks old, and at that point I was still feeling a bit, well, lost. The word maternal always suggested a natural quality to me, like it should be something simply and inherently felt - I mean its most common phrase pairing is "maternal instinct." That's sounds like it should be pretty darn natural, right? But at the beginning, I didn't feel natural at all. In fact, I felt quite foreign to myself.  What made it worse was that I worried I looked as awkward and fumbling as I felt. It made me uneasy - was I doing this right? If I was, why did I still feel so insecure? Why wasn't this coming naturally? Suddenly the word itself felt like a great weight. I was buckling under the pressure to find something within that I thought was surely lacking.

Adding insult to injury is the fact that there are those women that just seem like they were born to do this job. You know the type - they've been gushing over babies since they were little girls, playing house and daydreaming of the day they will get to be a real Mommy.  And then they go off and have tons of babies that they never seem to get tired of breastfeeding, and it leaves Moms like me feeling even more alien. I mean, unless they are all really good liars, it seems that some people are just naturally better suited for such things. Did it matter that I wasn't one of them? Was Willow getting the short end of the stick because I couldn't get the hang of this as quickly as other people do?

Amble on down the road a bit and things are much different. I do feel maternal, I know I'm a good Mom. I have confidence. Where did it change? I'm not really sure. There are days I'd swear I was right back at the beginning, and then an instant later I can snap back into self-assured mode with ease. I believe part of the comfort in maternal feelings came for me simply by learning. I am maternal because that is what I have become. It is what I've grown into. I am the skill sets I have acquired. I am the instinct now that alluded me so thoroughly at first.

Which brings me to my point: In my haste to find a snappy name for my blog that intimated my personal and vast feelings about life and parenthood (while simultaneously making me sound clever) I had inadvertently stumbled upon a perfect name for very different reasons. Because let's be honest folks, parenting is largely a game of paradoxes just like this one. The road is full of stumbling blocks and concepts that begin to look hazy the longer you stare. There's so much advice and information out there that beginner parents can feel suffocated by all the options. Even in the idea of maternal nature I could see alternatives I didn't even know were there initially. Yes, it could be instinct. Yes, it can also be learned. So what does it matter which way it happens?

Just like with everything in the parenting world - there's more than one right way to do things folks.


Am I maternal? Yes and No.

I am. And I am not. And I think that's ok.

Art. Like Garfunkel.

Music for Cool People: 11/8/2012

This particular remix of this song is so much fun - probably the best dance song I've heard in a while plus it's a good addition to my running playlist. I hope you enjoy it so much that you freak out about it like me:

The one where I come crawling back...

I started this blog when my daughter was first born as an attempt to chronicle her life and to keep track of all her little victories... you know, back when she looked like this:

It will be momentarily obvious that my plan went to hell pretty quick when I show you what she looks like now:

WHAM! Two years in less than an instant!

Crazy, right? It's no testament to me that I failed to keep up with blogging, but I am proud to say that I neglected my plans to be a great Mommy blogger to, you know, actually just focus on being a Mommy. And you know what? I think I have done a pretty bang-up job of the whole thing. 

Willow is a pretty incredible kid. She's loving, and smart, and creative. She loves art and building with blocks, and I'm pretty sure her language skills are improving almost daily. Two years is a very fun age for all of us here at Chez Chamberlain - we finally got the kid we ordered (you know, like FOREVER ago), and she was totally worth the wait.

A friend once said that the only way people should have babies is if they are willing to turn their lives upside down for two years. It was a frank statement, but one that I think is indeed true. Now that we have reached the two year mark, I really feel like a significant corner has been turned. It's just so much easier now. I mean, don't get me wrong - there are still days I just get so frustrated with her I could spit nails. But even in her worst places, I never get the sense of doom that her baby days periodically inspired me to feel. Not that the early days were all bad - they had their good moments, too. But I had trouble at the beginning, I think a lot of Moms do - especially with the first one. But now I just see possibilities for us. It's a good spot to be in. 

So I suppose it all begs the question: Now that the horizon looks like relatively smooth sailing, should we have another baby?

Oh man, I don't know, you guys. It's a tough call. And being analytical people, Ryan and I have made many pros and cons lists. Depending on the day, there can be more pros or cons on the lists, so we vary on our opinion based on our momentary circumstance. And that worries me. What if my wavering on the idea is a sign that I'm not committed enough to go through with it happily? But then I remember back to my pregnancy and how scared I was on some days, and then how happy I was on others and I think that these emotional swings on the topic could be natural.

What do you think out there in internet land? Were you scared to take the plunge and have a second kid?

I think the most important thing for the moment is that we are very content with our family just how it is - and that is a pretty comforting thought no matter what direction the wind ends up going.