There’s a quote I’ve always loved about motherhood:
“Making the decision to have a child—it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”
—Elizabeth Stone
It rings so true for me. That’s exactly what it feels like.
(Quick disclaimer: I’m very much my own person, and my children are their own people. Mama’s not trying to keep baby cozy and warm under her wing forever. Part of me genuinely looks forward to more independence, more time for myself, and fewer daily logistics to juggle. This “next chapter.” But still…)
Back to having my heart walk around outside my body—it not only walks, it drives. And goes far. Two years ago, part of my heart went to Binghamton. And now, in less than three weeks, another part is heading off to Buffalo.
Buffalo. Six-freaking-hours-away-Buffalo.
So…I’m feeling lots of feelings.
Pride. Excitement. Love. Gratitude. Joy in watching this next chapter unfold. I’m loving the time I get to spend with my children as adults.
But…my heart is also breaking a little.
I think it’s normal and natural to have these big feelings when your kids hit big milestones. And I’ll keep it together when I leave my heart in Buffalo (at least until we’re back in the car and on the highway)—I know he’ll be having his own emotions too.
Still, I think it’s important to make space for the feelings. I’ve been buzzing through summer, mostly feeling fine—but also a little fuzzy. And recently that fuzziness took a not-so-cute turn when I mixed up dates for an important event…with mildly traumatic results.
After some reflection, I realized: the fuzziness isn’t random. It’s not just forgetfulness. It’s the result of not paying attention—or rather, not allowing myself to attend to some big life shifts happening right now.
Honestly, I’ve been giving only the bare minimum of attention to daily life too. No meal planning. No thoughtful routines. I’d like to say I’ve been swept up in carefree summer bliss, feeling the breeze on my skin while doing fun things—but that wouldn’t be entirely true.
Sure, there’s been fun. And I’ve occasionally noticed that warm breeze. But I haven’t been present.
Why? Because in the background, there’s this swirling mass of big-life-feelings that I haven’t made space for. And they’re quietly stealing my bandwidth.
Normally, I can rely on my executive functioning. I may be a little last-minute, but I get things done. I remember the important stuff. But not this time. I wrote the wrong date down. I put it in my phone. I told people about it—for months—and it was still the wrong date.
Cue the self-judgment: I felt like an idiot. Embarrassed. Disappointed. Worried. Negligent. Even a little concerned about my own cognitive functioning.
Well, the crow has come to roost. Or is it the rooster has come to roost? I’ll look that up in a minute. (is this another sign of my cognitive decline?)
The truth is, I’ve coasted through much of this summer by dissociating—abandoning many of my best practices.
On a lighter note (though cognitive decline is not something I take lightly), I am finding comfort in this realization: I made a mistake because I’m overwhelmed—and I haven’t been acknowledging it.
Bring on the roosters. And the crows.
Today, I’m dealing with it.
I’m writing massive to-do lists (brain dumps, really) and breaking them into manageable parts. I’m journaling (and apparently writing a blog post?). I’m exercising. Meditating. Eating well. Sitting in the sunshine.
I’m righting myself—because two pieces of my heart are heading off to college soon, and the other two aren’t exactly slowing down either.
I’m letting myself miss my mom—and maybe even cry about it.
I’m letting myself express my worry about loved ones—and maybe offer an extra hug or two.
And if I’m feeling ambitious, I might even declutter the top of my dresser.
Bring on all the birds…
There’s another quote I love, I think it’s from Anne Lamott (though I can’t remember it exactly). It’s something about letting the sparrows fly into your hair—but not letting them build a nest there.
Today, I’m allowing the sparrows. I’m noticing the thoughts, the feelings, the mess—and choosing not to let them take over. But I’m not ignoring them either.
So…what about you?
Are you carrying around some big life stuff in your brain—stuff that leaves you feeling foggy, disconnected, tired, or more forgetful than usual?
Are you ignoring your sparrows?
I’m here for you. Leave a comment or email me at marydriscollwellness@gmail.com. Let’s remind each other we’re not alone in this.
Edited to add: That saying about roosting? It’s “the chickens are coming home to roost”! Now I’m allowing the chickens, the crows, the roosters, and the sparrows in…
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