Among the many things Spring says to me—spring break, and the final sprint to the end of the school year, and, mostly, utter and grateful relief for the end of winter, along with a soupcon of panic at the idea that the cold weather will play itself out all over again next year—among these many things, Spring, to me, also means baseball.
Not so my son, who once again chose soccer over baseball as his sport of choice.
It was her decision.
For the past seven years—five, really, since Jake didn’t have enough hair to cut until he was nearly two—I’ve fulfilled my latent hairdresser fantasy with a pair of haircutting scissors and the compliance of children thrilled by the chance to watch two episodes of Ninjago in a row while I snip away at their hair.
Lily’s was always a matter of a tiny trim and a few random swipes at her dried curls, nothing nearly as orderly as my one-size-fits-all boy’s haircut, at which, I must say, I’ve become quite proficient, with only a few embarrassments over the years.
Then Lily decided she wanted a Real Haircut, the kind I couldn’t hope to provide. And, it being the eve of her fifth birthday, I figured a girl deserved a trip to the salon.
Jake’s little sister arrived on Friday, proving that Friday the 13th isn’t so very unlucky after all. *** Jake arrived home with his sitter on Saturday evening to give Mike and me both big hugs. “Baby Lily,” he said sagely when he saw her sleeping in her moses basket. “That’s my sister.”
I wrote those words exactly five years ago.
Snow days, I’ve had way too much of an opportunity to discover lately, are a lot like the holidays.
There’s that sense of excitement that accompanies any weekday when you don’t have to get the kids up for school. The contagious enthusiasm of children facing a day packed with play. And the inevitable squabbling that begins two hours after the special breakfast pancakes have been eaten and all the indoor activities you never seem to have time for on the weekends have been exhausted and outdoor time has been cut short after fifteen minutes because of cold hands and wet mittens and the sparkly magic of the day has worn off, leaving everyone frankly sick of each other and the house in which they are stuck.
But one thing differed between our holiday break and our February snow break. Lily has had her smiley faces.
Posted in awareness, communicating, dukkha/suffering, expectations, gratitude, growing up, letting instead of making, Mama instinct, patience (and losing it), stuck at home with a child, toddler tantrums, vacation
The plague of the exam in the class I haven’t attended all semester is looming large these days. The paper due in half an hour that I keep not writing because I am busy buying a new house. The locker I can’t find in hallways full of middle schoolers from whose ranks I somehow never graduated because I never took the class I have now failed to attend all year.
I can’t say for sure what’s causing these winds of high anxiety that attack in my sleep even when a good round of yoga or meditation keeps them at bay during the day. Reverting to my own school days of that deep longing for forever vacation that hadn’t yet been quelled by years of vacations ending like clockwork? Perhaps. A sudden s*&$-or-get-off-the-pot need to put my novel out there or stop pretending that “one day” I will support myself as a writer already? Feels likely. Or maybe it’s just the wildly fluctuating weather, punctuated by our interstate dash to St. Louis and back for the holidays dodging tornado watches and severe thunderstorm warnings and evil cold fronts the whole way.
Whatever is causing the anxiety, though, is sort of beside the point. It’s what will make it stop that preoccupies me these days. And the one guaranteed winner so far is my resolution not to resolve to do anything.
Posted in balance, breathing, centering, chattering mind, expectations, following your heart, grace, inner peace, letting go, Mommy time, school, sense of self, too much to do
Tagged anxiety, awareness, balance, centering, chattering mind, expectations, following your heart, grace, inner peace, letting go, Mommy time, new years resolutions, parenting, PTO, public school, selfishness
Jake’s been asking some pretty clever questions lately, the ones all my friends with older kids promised me I wouldn’t have to deal with for a few more years. The ones that turn every parent into a liar, or at least a strenuous equivocator. You know, the ones about Santa.