On some semi-conscious level I carry my children around with me everywhere I go. Whether they’re physically present or not, they take up a part of my brain. No matter what else I’m doing, no matter where I am, no matter what role I’m in, my children are in my thoughts. I’m most aware of this at night, as I’m falling asleep, when I invariably go through a mental checklist on each one of them. What they did that day, how they’re doing in life, what worries I may have about them, how they’re relating to each other, to their friends, to me. Are they getting enough exercise? Does anyone need new socks? Mundane details, bigger concerns, and just the overall gestalt. There are little imaginary boxes besides each of their names, related to the main spheres of development, which I put mental check marks in as they complete each stage. When the last child started reading, I had a very satisfying sense of…..reading? check! That mission accomplished.
My children are like four pearls on a necklace. I compulsively run those pearls through my fingers every moment that I am awake, feeling each pearl, naming each pearl. I do it without thinking. It doesn’t bother me, or distract me, or keep me from doing whatever it is I need to do. I don’t even notice I’m doing it, except sometimes, when the rest of my mind is still.
I think that on some fundamental level, my brain changed when I became a mother. I think that a portion of it will always be reserved for my children.
what a lovely post. yesterdays was great too…once children are born your heart nolonger resides only inside your physical body but crawls/ walks around embodied in another. pure pleasure and pain.
This is beautiful!
I can tell that mine take up my brain space as well (although it is nowhere near as organized as yours!). Never is it more apparent than when one of them is sick and suddenly their allotted space in my mind becomes terribly huge.