back to the basics

Two days before we flew to North Carolina for Christmas, I was a sniveling, sad mess. Our dear friends had visited us — one of whom I’ve known for more than 20 years — and we had said our goodbyes, which left me feeling oddly bereft.

Earlier that day, we went to the Los Angeles zoo — me and the three boys; my friends and their 3-year-old daughter — and I pushed it with L., who was yawning on the ride down. I knew I was tempting fate (never mess with a 2-year-old’s nap), but I didn’t know he’d turn quickly into a bellowing terror. He was a screaming tyrant by the time we were saying “hi” to the gorillas, throwing apples with tremendous force, thrashing his body around and running away from me. I blocked out the side-eye glances from the other spectators, but all of my energy seeped out of my body.

By that evening, I felt wrecked. It didn’t help that I hadn’t run in three weeks or that I wasn’t eating well and had gained a few pounds. It didn’t help that I drank one too many the night before, which is rare for me now. It didn’t help that I was anxious about showing our friends a good time and that I felt sad when they left because I miss banter with people who get me. It didn’t help that I had seen their happiness and realized I was missing mine.

I broke down and wet A.’s chest with my tears. I was sad. Depleted. Exhausted. Uninspired. Lonely. (A. said, “Remember when we had one kid? Life was easier.”)

The meltdown was enough to nudge me into action, and start with the basics, which often get ignored when you’re a mom — especially a mom of three under 7. These are things I always did naturally, but now I have to prioritize.

1. Exercise. This is now my priority above all else — exercise eases my stress and makes me a better mom. It’s my foundation for happiness. I’ve signed up for the San Luis Obispo half marathon at the end of April. Also, I plan to get to some yoga and practice weight training at home.

2. Coffee. I have noticed that if I have more than two coffees, I’m a grump. So my plan is to dial it back to two, no matter how tired I am late in the day. I’m also looking into other fun drinks to replace my habit.

3. Writing. I plan to carve out more time for writing this year as well as reading great writing and finding author talks, which always inspires me.

4. Friends and Community. I’m still figuring out how to tackle this one, because I want more local friends who are positive and inspiring (it’s been hard to find here), and a stronger community vibe. I’ve joined the PTA board, but I need to find another outlet. Indoor soccer? Volunteering? We’ll see.

5. The Arts. New music, new art, great books. These are the things that fill me and feed me. Two places I plan to visit this year are The Getty and The Broad museums. Speaking of — what has inspired you lately?

I know I have to give myself a break — I’ve been in a seven-year fog of either pregnant, baby or toddler soaking up all of my time and demanding more of me than I ever imagined. Now it’s time for me to reclaim my time, for me. This also means not letting social media overtake my mind. No more, “Wait, why did I get on my computer,” or, “Ugh, where did the last 30 minutes go?”

More reading. More healthy cooking. More listening to new music. More exploring. More making friends with people who are excited about life. Because life is beautiful.

Advertisement

spring, t-ball and pottery

Spring has sprung here in the Antelope Valley. The birds are singing, the trees are blooming, I see bright orange poppies sprouting in the fields. I’m spending hours — no exaggeration — weeding our lawn. I constantly have dirt under my fingernails and it smells like grass, always. The evenings are getting longer, and the boys are happy spending hours outside. I planted tomatoes, strawberries and jalapenos.

My oldest started T-ball practice, which may be the cutest thing I’ve ever watched. I love sitting in the stands without any cares in the world — I’m not compelled to check my phone or do anything but sit and watch my boy chew on his glove, swing and miss the ball and on a grounder let the ball dribble through his legs.

I’m starting to run regularly. It’s painful, but after five hard runs in a week and a half, I’m already feeling better. I know I have to slog through it to get to a place where it feels good, but this part does not feel good. But I am grateful that I have good knees and that I can run.

I’m also spending a lot of time in my pottery shop, which A. finished. I fired my first set of pots in the new kiln. I picked a conservative setting because I was worried about the glaze running over onto the shelves, and it was my best firing yet. It’s thrilling to have the power to make mugs, bowls, planters, plates, vases, etc. The list is endless. The catch is I still don’t have much time, but I get in my shop when I can and I try not to put any pressure on myself to produce. It’s still just a hobby, afterall.

An expensive hobby. So I re-opened my Etsy shop (erinkillianpottery) and I’m listing pots in the evenings, before my dose of This Is Us, which I’m binging on right now.

I’m thinking a lot about preschool next year. And summer travel. And if I should be worried that my youngest only has a few words when he should have more. And doctor appointments. And what to make for dinner.

This is my life right now. My happy, imperfect life that is mostly at home and so different from 10 years ago when I was dating and traveling and working. It’s amazing where life will take you.

on healing, exercise and pottery

It’s been six weeks since my surgery, and I feel back to normal. Well, as normal as you can feel with a newborn. Luckily, L. is a decent sleeper. Usually. OK, last night not so much, when he was up at 2 a.m., 4 a.m., 5 a.m. and 6 a.m. But three nights ago my little 7 week-old gave me a 6-hour stretch, which had me dancing to “Foot Loose” around my living room. (Another exaggeration, I can’t help myself today.)

I’ve been walking and I tried to run a few days ago. That wasn’t happening. It’s hard enough to run after a pregnancy, but now I have a surgery to contend with, so it will take more time. I’m trying to be patient.

We took the boys rock climbing in the Jemez mountains yesterday and A. set an easy climb for them (and me), but I wasn’t feeling up to it. Rock climbing is harder when you’re carrying extra weight and I have 10 more pounds to go. But it was lovely being in nature — trees! Fresh air! Sunshine! I’ve missed day trips like this.

In other news, I opened an Etsy shop to sell my pottery. I was simply investigating how to do it, and then suddenly it was done. I went with Erin Killian Pottery so it’s easy to find. My sister-in-law is a graphic designer (check out her stuff at Beth Killian Design) and she whipped up a logo for me.

I haven’t formally announced the shop to family and friends yet — I want to tweak it a bit and maybe add a few more items. I’ve read it’s good to have 20-30 items to start and I have 16 up there. Who knows, that might be enough. On Saturday, I started to throw again for the first time in two months. I made four mugs and three small ring bowls and felt relaxed and in my element. I’m pretty sure I think better when I’m throwing clay. A. said, “Look at you, you’re filthy!” and I nodded and gave him the biggest grin. It feels good to be back to myself again.

artists’ trading cards and letting go of self doubt

When A.’s parents visited in late February, I had one full, glorious free day to myself. Nonni and grandpa boarded the Rail Runner train to Santa Fe with my two boys at 9:30 a.m. and I had till close to 6 p.m. to do whatever I liked (with CM’s school conference smack dab in the middle of it, but no matter). I decided I would write a bit at a coffee shop, throw some pots and get exercise in no particular order.

While at the coffee shop, I researched things to do in Albuquerque and surroundings. And that’s when I stumbled on the Women and Creativity conference. I missed most of the events, but it looked like I could still be involved in the poet’s post trading cards project. It involved me beautifying 10 cards and sending them back to the organizer, and then I would get 10 back in the mail from 10 different artists.

I donated $10 to the cause and signed up. When the blank cards arrived several weeks later, I felt like a fraud. Real visual artists were filling these cards out — my arts are clay and writing. But I pulled out some water colors and painted, and man did it feel good to let go of any self doubts (I had no stake in this) and ego and take a paintbrush to these tiny cards.

Last week, I received the 10 in the mail, and I opened them up like a joyful little kid. (I also had my joyful little 4 year old next to me, who was excited as I was.) The cards are spectacular. And every one is completely different. They’re mostly from New Mexico, but one is from New Jersey, one from California and one from Pennsylvania.

I haven’t decided what to do with them — I might take my favorite few and frame them if I can find something suitable at Michael’s. But the point isn’t (and wasn’t) the end product. It was the process — it was more fun than I expected. It gave me a bit of perspective to calm down and change gears and relax creatively. And that’s what I need often when I’m throwing pots or writing a story. Perspective.