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Lindsay Ishihiro - How Baby #675: Atlas
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About This Title
Nothing makes you realize you're not yet "at capacity" than your kid needing you to step the fuck up.
I've been in a weird place lately - I've been putting in 100% at work for a few months, plus dealing with a resurgence of grief, plus conventions, and of course keeping up with as much comic and art as I can, and also just generally trying to be healthy and do good for my body which feels like a second job sometimes, and then Momo had the audacity to, you know, grow up and enter the next stage of her life.
It seemed okay at first, but Momo was doing what she always does: quietly pretending to paddle alongside, while she was actually drowning. It wasn't until the concerned emails started coming in that I realized my attention had been in completely the wrong place, and I metaphorically felt the weight of everything I'd been carrying on my back shift to one hand so that I could place her, with equal weight, in the other.
It feels a little like the immediate time postpartum, which was a literal rewiring of my brain to orient myself completely to the needs of someone else. She blew the horn of Gondor, and I rode to her aid. Now, I'm up with her in the mornings again, and when she comes home I stop working. I've taken to calling the hour right after school my hot mom shit, which we spend in the kitchen with her doing her homework and me alternating between cleaning, cooking, and helping her. I've re-learned a lot about algebra. It's kind of like my one hour of housewife cosplay, except I'm also always thinking about nutrition and sleep and socializing and future growth and reducing screen time and and AND yes, you know, if you're reading this, you know that Providing Care is not just one thing, but a complete reorientation of priorities. Kev's stepped up to support us by taking over more of the meal prep, despite dealing with a shoulder injury. We're hanging in there, all three of us.
Nothing makes you realize you're not yet "at capacity" than your kid needing you to step the fuck up.
I've been in a weird place lately - I've been putting in 100% at work for a few months, plus dealing with a resurgence of grief, plus conventions, and of course keeping up with as much comic and art as I can, and also just generally trying to be healthy and do good for my body which feels like a second job sometimes, and then Momo had the audacity to, you know, grow up and enter the next stage of her life.
It seemed okay at first, but Momo was doing what she always does: quietly pretending to paddle alongside, while she was actually drowning. It wasn't until the concerned emails started coming in that I realized my attention had been in completely the wrong place, and I metaphorically felt the weight of everything I'd been carrying on my back shift to one hand so that I could place her, with equal weight, in the other.
It feels a little like the immediate time postpartum, which was a literal rewiring of my brain to orient myself completely to the needs of someone else. She blew the horn of Gondor, and I rode to her aid. Now, I'm up with her in the mornings again, and when she comes home I stop working. I've taken to calling the hour right after school my hot mom shit, which we spend in the kitchen with her doing her homework and me alternating between cleaning, cooking, and helping her. I've re-learned a lot about algebra. It's kind of like my one hour of housewife cosplay, except I'm also always thinking about nutrition and sleep and socializing and future growth and reducing screen time and and AND yes, you know, if you're reading this, you know that Providing Care is not just one thing, but a complete reorientation of priorities. Kev's stepped up to support us by taking over more of the meal prep, despite dealing with a shoulder injury. We're hanging in there, all three of us.
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