Growing Versions

"Do not be afraid of the past. If people tell you it is irrevocable, do not believe them. The past, present and future are but one moment in the sight of God. Time and space are merely accidental conditions of thought. The Imagination can transcend them." -Oscar Wilde

This morning my son pronounced that it was mama's super powers that helped him jump down four stairs instead of the usual 3.  It briefly assuaged my guilt, but inside I admitted that I am not using my powers for good today. I'm grouchy, short tempered and inpatient. Why do I see that as a failure, when really, if I follow my own advice to my kids, it is understandable that someone is grumpy and unreasonable sometimes, especially when they are on-call 24 hours a day responding to demands. I always make extra effort to assure others that it is normal to be frustrated and lose your cool at times, it all balances out.  It would be better advice if I truly believed it was good advice for me too.  I have set up my own double standard.  It seems to me that is expected more of us women than men who parent. I want my kids to observe me during periods of stress so they can know that they do not have to gloss over their struggles or hide their feelings.  However, I...

  “One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.”  Jack Kerouac

Boy: Pizza Man! Pizza Man! Pizza Man!(hollering through an upstair window, seated on a stool) Pizza Man: You have some help up there.  (gesturing upwards). Mom: Yes, yes I do. Boy: We have bleeding hearts. Pizza Man: Oh yeah? Boy:Our cat Mulder looks like a skunk. He went up a tree. Pizza Man: Did you call the fire station? Boy: No, no, of course not, he jumped down by himself. Pizza Man: (smiling politely) Boy: I am going to be 4 and I am going to be able to climb trees very high...

I am moving very slowly.  I cannot seem to move faster. I've taken the cue and I've read the memos...the sun has come out and I've decided to rest. I am still standing, still walking around, but I will capitulate to a bed as soon as the opportunity avails itself.  Until then, I'll close my eyes, face towards the sun and rest standing up. My response time will slow for a while, but that's okay. 

When do we stop insisting on bringing playdoh or a bouncy ball on outings?  When do we relinquish dolls and replace them with iphones? Clutching stuff as we travel around because we can't foresee doing what we are about to do without the clutching.  Later, as my kids get comfortable, they abandon the thing that they have been gripping so tightly but I feel like that phase has not  ever really stopped for me. I'm still clutching stuff. I enjoy the sensation of having free hands. I like the concept but in the end my hands are required for clutching and I'm ultimately uneasy when I'm not. What's that about? My husband goes around not clutching stuff.  For some of us, perhaps the clutching goes internal.  For now, I continue to clutch phones and keys and pens...and clutch the playdoh and balls when my kids get tired of doing it. 1.     to   seize   with   or   as   with   the   hands   or   claws;   sn...

I've been accused of being worst things, but somehow, being labelled a bleeding heart really irks me (almost) the most. There is another word that is worse, and I'll get up the courage to tell you why another day.  "You are a bleeding heart" means you care disproportionally, you have no (or faulty) critical thinking skills, you are gullible.  I care fiercely about what I care about...but scared of the label I tend to care in a cold hearted way (if there is such a thing), reassuring others all the way that I'm no fool---that I care with safely constructed boundaries.  I care all too aware that a staunched bleeding heart is seen as more noble. A healed up, scabbed over heart is seen as somehow more caring, but is that true?  What do you think?