In defense of Southerners, hibernating like a little bunny, and potty training

Life {behind the scenes} 2.25

Heartbeats started as an email to friends and family, a way to share poetry and connection during a new season of grief and motherhood. Today’s letter is a return to that more intimate invitation. I hope you enjoy a little peak of our life behind the scenes!

“When it’s really cold, the snow makes a lovely noise underfoot, and it’s like the air is full of stars.”

-Katherine May “Wintering”

Hello.

In between typing, I’m shoveling moist bites of the walnut coffee cake our neighbor brought over last night. She texted (just to stop by) and stood in our doorway with half a bundt on a paper plate so casually I was both bewildered and delighted. Did I mention it was her grandmother’s recipe?

Say what you will about the South (and I know, there’s a lot to say), its warm hospitality is not a myth. The local farmers market feels more like a living room, kids of all ages playing in the bed of rocks between stalls or drawing with chalk on the pavement. People here know each other and actually stop to have a lengthy conversation when randomly seeing each other at the store. Maybe it’s the size of the city but I can’t help but savor the simple acts of kindness as a much-needed balm.

There’s something about knowing our neighbors and being in a smaller community that builds accountability, too.

In an age of false connection, I’d argue the power of anonymity married to the depth of isolation many of us experience leads to harm.

“Autonomy is in your DNA here,” my husband comments, born a continent away where this is not so. We’re proud of our freedom and individuality, yet we’re still human. We need each other.

Specifically, we need the safety and belonging only experienced by the type of proximity that’s messy, imperfect, and vulnerable.

I witnessed this firsthand at a poetry open mic a few weeks ago. The small community present was diverse- in age, race, and belief. There were moments of grief, celebration, rage, depression, and fragile hope. What I noticed most was the feeling of inclusion (not without disagreement) and reciprocity. These people cared for each other. Enough to approach each poem with curiosity, enthusiasm, and unconditional support.

More of this, please.

There are a lot of things breaking. The recent letters from

Stephanie Greene

¹ and

Ryan Rose Weaver

² reminded me there’s much to build.

Am I depressed or am I burrowing for winter?

And to do that, we have to let ourselves rest. As much as I am trying to re-learn a way of life that’s seasonal and cyclical (hello, I live in a woman’s body for crying out loud), there are still days I feel like taking a nap is a waste of time. Or berate myself for not accomplishing more. Or cringe at another grey sky.

Taking a literal cue from nature helps. Watching the ocean ebb and flow. Finding company amongst the bare branches. Watching the moon wax and wane. Picturing myself like a baby bunny hibernating, all cozy and contented until Spring.

I have a sequence to my creative life. In spring and fall, I am above ground and commit to community. In the summer, I'm outside. It is a time for family. And in the winter, I am underground. Home. This is when I do my work as a writer - in hibernation. I write with the bears.

—Terry Tempest Williams

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When I’m feeling a surge of anxiety or urgency, these rituals help

• Putting my phone on airplane mode and reading a physical book

• Making a simmer pot with leftover apple cores and orange peels and a hefty dose of cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves

• Opening my tea drawer (I have an entire drawer just for tea in our new kitchen!) and making a cup in my favorite mug

• Brisk sunrise walks by myself all bundled up

• Calling a friend

Recently, I’ve armed myself with gardening books about wildflowers and native plants. Now that the inside of our house is more or less settled after moving in November, I’m looking at the blank canvas of our flat yard with gleeful anticipation. Do you know how rare it is to have a flat yard in Chattanooga? One with a fence all around? I’m dreaming of birds and bees and butterflies and hours spent planting species I may never see grow to their fullest capacity while Noah runs around in the yard.

Spring comes early here (I’ve already seen green daffodil shoots breaking through the mud) and I can’t wait.

In other news, potty training is HELL.

I swore I’d never be the kind of mom who made pitchers of Kool-Aid or bribed my kid with candy and ice cream. Ahem. While I haven’t dumped a cup of sugar (or was it 1 ½?) into a gallon of water and mixed it with a packet of red dye in decades, we didn’t even last one day of potty training without turning to blatant bribery.

Toddlerhood is that precarious territory where all of a sudden your sweet, young baby can actually start to do things on their own but won’t. It’s the blatant refusal and the number of times I hear the word “no” stated like a fact instead of an opinion that does it for me.

For some reason, I thought this transition would be easier than the others. I thought, let’s go three days butt naked (our toddler, not us), be super encouraging (but not too pushy), give him some cool firetruck stickers and it’ll be a breeze!

Ahhhaaaaahaaaa the parenting gods laugh with mischevious mirth.

Take me back to the days of changing tiny diapers and not trying to somehow keep the giant turd in his underwear long enough to dump it over the toilet in a women’s bathroom at the YMCA.

So that’s where we’re at these days. Navigating preschool waitlists, shuffling our childcare schedule around, and managing the start-up that is our little family. Oh, and eating the last piece of coffee cake.

There’s so much more to share but the little one will wake up soon and you probably need to get back to another episode of Selling Sunset (oh wait, that’s me). 😅

Here are some other topics I’d love to say more about if there’s interest.

1. Why Disney World sucks— we took our first vacation there after Christmas and I have a lot of thoughts. It’s not political, but is it?

2. Our daily rhythms and routines— since literally treating our little family like a start-up, I’ve made probably a dozen spreadsheets and documents to help organize the chaos that is early parenthood. I’m also learning a lot about different school options and would be happy to share more details about what it’s like to be a stay-at-home mom with childcare and the reality of time management (it’s hard).

3. Writing projects and community— my goal is to immerse myself in spaces with other writers and artists this year. I’m having a lot of fun collecting resources and opportunities and learning all I can about the publishing world and writing as a career.

4. Leave a suggestion in the comments! This is meant to be a conversation, not a monologue 😊💗

Wishing you warmth and renewal.

Sunrise walk over the pedestrian bridge in Chattanooga

All my love,
Mariah

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