Love Sick...

Happy Valentine's Day & Be Warned:

Wistful me is about to open up a can...

I'm just feeling like I want to stop time.  I know that is a trite phrase, I know I say "slow this down" all the time, but really, this week I had to register my not-even-five-year-old blonde baby for Kindergarten and another blonde baby for preschool and I just.... whoa, you know?  And it all welled up inside me and I had a sudden glimpse of these big pathways of life unfolding ahead of my boys at mach speed.

Pathways that I know will hold storms they will have to weather that are big and deep.  I wish with my whole heart I could protect them from it all. From life.  But it is inevitable that they will just keep growing and doing new things and it is a love sick game that requires letting them go and creates this mixed bag of mama emotions.  Let's call them "momotions".  And let's call this whole "mothering growing babies" the Olympics of Life, in the spirit of Sochi and all.  Well, that coupled with the fact that I feel like surviving this marathon of emotions will require nothing short of the most rigorous of Olympic training And/Or Jedi mind tricks.

I mean... our kids.  We love them.  We worry.  How do we do this?  This is hard.  That's what it was this week.  All these exciting decisions that have to be made as our little babies grow bigger and perch near the edge of our nest compounded and they became heavy on my heart.  It came to a head on Saturday when we ousted the crib from our house and brought in my baby's big boy bed.  I was a mess.  So much so that I just knew I would become that mama who, in her frantic flapping of wings, would most certainly knock one of those little baby birds clean off his feet and watch him helplessly fluttering in the air flapping madly...

And then... I could literally see this cartoon play out in my head in slow motion... just as I went into a nose dive to save my little ball of fluff, (I pictured a little yellow tweety bird, a la Snoopy) his tiny wings beat rapidly at the air with natural motions until he lit lightly upon his own two feet on the solid ground.  And I know no matter how I snowball all this together into a giant mess... those little babies of ours will fly.  It's what they are meant to do.  It's what our love empowers them to do.

Nothing could have prepared me for this.  The ride of parenthood is rough... and resisting the urge to hover or just swoop in and save my little people from every possible situation that is bound to go wrong will be the death of me.  But I've got to just let go and let them do what feels natural-- and smile at the journey, with it's scenic parts, and it's arm-pittish parts, and all it's other parts in between - and it will all work out.  It will all work out.

This wistful woman has got to shut her big mouth.  Being sad and venting is important and has it's place, but it's a very unproductive place for me to stay.  As crazy fast as the time warp seems to be spinning, it can never compete with the greater power of loving my children and trusting in their innate abilities and their cores of goodness.

I mean, look at 'em.  There is untapped power and goodness there just waiting to make its mark on the world.  I should be giddy at the potential.  So, giddy I will be.  And now that I'm back to kicks and giggles... Happy Hearts day from our little animals.  

And big smooches from me to the mister who has a  crazy gift of pulling me out of my head when I need it the very most.  Thanks for anchoring me back down & making me laugh, lova boy.  :)

.XOXO.