Becoming a parent has moved me to revisit my Buddhist leanings. There have been times when I've awoken with anxiety roiling my innards, when I've thought I couldn't take the relentless repetition of toddler/preschooler conversation and behaviors any longer, when I've felt so alone, even when I had not one minute to myself.
I realize that these feelings are par for the course for any new parent, never mind an adoptive parent of two high-spirited boys. Or maybe they're not and I'm a neurotic wreck. However I look at it, I'm still working on a way to get through my days feeling more steady, behaving more thoughtfully.
I've begun "sitting" again. Not just on the couch, staring out the window. Which I quite like to do. I'm talking about meditation. Finding 20 minutes to sit, uninterrupted, is quite a feat around here these days, but I'm mostly able to squeeze it in. The difficulty is in not allowing my thoughts to take over and lead me into the types of feelings I described above. Even when my meditation is a resounding mess -- dog comes in needing love, Dh falls asleep upstairs while the boys giggle uproariously at some mischief they're committing, or my bladder needs attention -- even then I find my mood more stable afterwards. I can step back a bit. I can quiet my inner voice and just watch the activities going on around me, rather than always needing to participate.
This last part is something I'm aiming towards doing more of. Holding back when my impulse is to jump in and "interfere." Letting some of the less perilous things happen, letting the boys and Alex work things out without me, letting Chauncey take care of himself when someone almost jumps on him. It's not easy for a perfectionist control-freak such as myself. A quality in me of which I wasn't so painfully aware before kids, but there it is!
It's much more relaxing, so I'm trying to cultivate it more, and meditation seems to be the best way thus far. Tonight I watched as Alex gave his tall, fragile glass to Habtamu in order for him to pour his drink from one cup to another. I almost said, "that's not a great idea. He'll spill it, or even worse, break it."
No, I left the room to finish cleaning up in the kitchen.
CRASH! And I had to chuckle. I was so glad I was nowhere near the event, and that I didn't feel the need to clean it up. Ahhhh.