The winter finds me in the kitchen. Southern Virginia has been wet and chilled, the frost on our windshields in the morning reminding us that it’s not yet spring, no matter the 50 degree afternoons. I’ve been fighting off the doldrums with recipes. Complicatedcupcakes, school night risotto, flavorful pork chops and weekend briskets are the mediums I’ve been painting with these days. Food is what I’ve been creating, aside from poetry-and that doesn’t really count to me. I feel like I exhale poems these days, they’re so engrained in my daily life. So, I’ve been creating in the kitchen, trying new recipes and enjoying (with the exception of the brisket) the fruits of my labor. I’ve found that as I try my hand at new recipes I’m simultaneously drawn to old favorites. PB&J toast for breakfast, tuna salad over baby spinach for lunch, a quart of strawberries with a semi-sweet chocolate drizzle for dessert. It’s nice, the balance of the new and the old flavoring my days. It’s flowing over into other areas of my life too. I’ve purchased 4 volumes of poetry in the last month, all of which I’ve read on the couch after spending the dinner prep and clean up time with episodes of Mad About You. I’ve gone back to the tried and true fitness calculators- BMR calorie charts, My Fitness Pal, but have been doing my heavy weights and varied cardio at the workplace gym (networking). I’ve begun a very intimidating “How to Write Your Novel” class, while continuing to put down roots in the local poetry scene. I’ve felt very balanced.
It’s odd. I do feel balanced. I also feel completely flummoxed. Every calendar page we turn brings us closer to our plans of beginning the journey to expand our family and the universe of unknown sitting just over the horizon has me characteristically nervous. It sounds silly, but I’m intensely curious about myself. I mean, it’s not like I have any experience in this area. Think about it, it’s so inherent to ourselves, yet most of us have no idea about our abilities. I can’t even remember how my body reacted naturally, not that it would still behave the same as it did when I was 18. I have to reacquaint myself with all of that-which I find fascinating and kind of sci-fi if I’m being honest. It’s so strange that I know how many push-ups I can do and approximately how my body reacts to a variety of chemicals, but I have no clue about my own reproductive abilities. Like, how weird is that? Am I alone here? Doesn’t anyone else find it odd? I think it’s one of the only things about myself I can’t even make an educated guess about. It’s a total crapshoot. Realistically I know that all these thoughts are probably for naught and it’s more than likely-due to age and good health, everything will just unwind like it should. It’s just a strange thing to think about. It could be immediate or it could take years. Any you don’t know until you’re in the middle of it. I can’t think of any other situation like that.
It doesn’t help that some days I’m completely on page Baby and others I feel like I barely survived the workday and OMG How Can I Add A Child Into The Mix?! Sometimes I think those who came to be parents accidentally have it better. Deciding to go down this road feels so weighty and impending. I know it’s something we want, but it scares me to death. I guess that’s a good thing. Scared is good. It’s better than a false sense of security. And of course, all of this is just going through my head. It’s all talk and thought and day dreams so I feel silly even sharing it, but I know someone else has to be feeling the same way.
So that’s where I am these days. Balanced in body, flummoxed in my head.
Where are you?