I don’t know how she does it
and what I can do a la vez
I don’t know how she does it
For the first forty days after giving birth to my second child I did not go on Instagram. I rarely left the house. Going downstairs was a struggle. I needed help just to keep myself fed.
Now that I’m almost three months postpartum I’m regularly taking leisurely walks to Brooklyn’s best park and sitting at my drafting table. I am not really making any art, but I’m thinking about it. Most days I’m covered in spit up, baby pee, food I tried to eat while wearing my baby, or all of the above. But I’ve also read a lot of books and my baby is almost 13 pounds.
I’ve felt both very frustrated during this time—a 3 year old and a 3 month old are not easy to watch at the same time—and very thankful that I have the time and space to both recover and also care for my newborn. I had a very difficult birth but I also have many resources. I made a huge effort after having my first child to build and strengthen my local community. I have other artist/moms of two kids who I can text and other artist/moms I can meet up with in person. I have neighbors who will come over for a stoop pizza party at short notice. I have a stoop. I have a husband who gets up to change the diaper every time.
And it is still hard. A recent dip onto Instagram sent me down another rabbit hole of “how does she do it?” I was sad for a bit and annoyed at myself. Then I just emailed one of the artist/moms who I know and asked. And she told me. I found out her experience is very different from mine. Not better or worse, just different.
Which is a good reminder that we are all going through our own things and also, new motherhood, parenting in general, is very hard. No one should be doing this alone and we have to ask each other for help. Even just asking how someone is doing it and getting an answer is helpful. It rounds out the experience. There is no one right way, just a way that will work for me and that will be very different than what will work for someone else.
A la vez
A la vez translates to at the same time. I’m learning what things I can and should do at the same time, and what things require being done one at a time. I’m inspired by Hilary Doyle’s ability to stack or group tasks, but I also am learning that a good part of me needs space from my kids to do serious work — a la Liana Finck. I did a studio visit with a dad last year and when he said his son had only been to his studio once I was shocked. I previously assumed I had to include my child in everything to be — I don’t even know — a true mother and artist? Silly.
Things I can do at the same time:
-I can eat and feed myself and/or my toddler and/or my baby
-I can go to the bathroom and wear my baby
-I can think and walk
-I can draw with my toddler while wearing my baby, sometimes
Things I can’t (or won’t) do at the same time:
-write and watch my toddler
-try on pants while wearing my baby
-watch an Instagram Reel while my baby is sleeping on me, actually I will never watch that Instagram Reel
-draw my own work while playing with my toddler
I’m sharing this because I think that parents, especially moms, especially those who are artists, are expected to do everything at the same time. Part of parenting or just maturing is understanding that what works for you isn’t always what works for someone else. You don’t have to do everything at once.
-Stephanie
P.S. What I’ve been reading:
Thriving Postpartum: Embracing the Indigenous Wisdom of La Cuarentena by Pānquetzani. She shares the things that I wish had been passed down onto me but weren’t because of generations of erasure.
Like Water For Chocolate by Laura Esquivel (in English, though it is probably better en español). I also watched both the recent TV series on Max and the original 1992 film directed by Alfonso Arau (Esquivel’s husband at the time!). While I don’t like a lot of the additions of the TV series, especially to make the main love interest more admirable, the visual lushness was soothing. Whenever I think about how many kids my great-grandmothers had and raised I can now think about them in a greater context.
Anita de Monte Laughs Last by Xochitl Gonzalez and this NYTimes article When an Artist Dies, Who Owns Her Story? by Kate Dwyer
P.P.S. I’ll be opening my studio on Saturday, May 17th in Industry City, Brooklyn from 1pm - 5pm!
