Wednesday, June 1, 2011
I started this blog as a place to vent my frustration over the constant struggle between being a mother and being a filmmaker and never feeling like I do either very well. Sometimes I feel like there's a constant complaint running in my through my head - if only I had time I could make more films; if only I didn't have kids I'd have more time for me. But what I sometimes forget is to reflect on how much richer my life is with kids and how much I actually like my own. Not when they're complaining about homework, or recounting for the umpteenth time that embarrassing story of a temper tantrum I had when they were three, or when they're telling me how they wish Dad was their full-time caregiver because he never yells. It's the other times. Like when my daughter decided she didn't like the play her class was performing about the French Revolution, so she wrote her own, got all of her friends to take parts, rehearse every day at recess and then they performed it for the rest of the class. Or when she sees I'm particularly stressed and gives me a hug and a kiss, saying "I just decided to do that randomly." Or when my son stopped talking about his day in school to ask how the work on my film was going and confirmed that my new editor was working out well. They look up to me (they are only 9 after all) and I don't want to let them down. They inspire me to keep going and to be the best I can be. And they love me even when I'm not. It's that and much more that makes it all worthwhile. Until the next meltdown, anyway.