Lonely is a four letter word
.I'm a solitary person by nature. An outgoing introvert. An overachiever who learned that the world rewarded those who spoke the loudest, laughed the longest and smiled at strangers. So I cultivated my outgoing skills. Yes, inherently, I am curious, which has served my outgoing nature well. But a true introvert, when I need to recharge. I go inside. When I need to create, I sit alone. When I need to reflect, I find a quiet place.
So it is that I found myself alone with my 20-month old twin boys this Fourth of July holiday weekend and cranky. Mind you there was the hormone thing that should not be overlooked, but I was really out of sorts most of the weekend, until GrandMom came to visit on the last day of our four days of family bonding and I woke to my strong desire to have an adult conversation. It dawned on me, then, that I had been alone all weekend and lonely even surrounded as I was by these two loving, giving, little men.
For this solitary, outgoing introvert, I realized that while I had been alone, the ways in which I normally recharged while alone have been reconfigured, and in many ways I will need to re-imagine what the alone time I crave looks like. The days are full and the evenings are short so I have a great desire to cram full with quiet recharging time. However, exhaustion is a barrier to true quiet time, because the brain, having been in an off-mode during the day, suddenly kicks into high gear just when you need it to slow-down.
The lack of adult interaction during those daylight hours means that there is nothing for this outgoing introvert to push back on, or to counter. There has been no conversation for right or left brain. Caring for beautiful babies that I chased for more than a decade is an all-heart activity, meaning the soul is full to overflowing with love, fear, anxiety, more love, and the great care with which one surveys the scene constantly on the look out for danger. That is all kinesthetic. All physical. The reptilian and the limbic brain. Meanwhile my neocortex, the other part of my brain, is craving conversation, reflection, analysis, is feeling nostalgic for the infant babies even as I feel excitement for the toddler wonder, with no time for any of those feelings to be processed.
I'm Kimberly. Single mother by choice. Now also wife. Holder of space. Maker of place. Mom. Mama. Mommy. Mitch. These are my thoughts, reflections, ideas and random observations about raising twin sons.
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