Yesterday was one of those days. If you're a parent, or even if you remember having a parent, I bet you know just how those kinds of days can go down. Some days there are a few bumps and then other days, for no apparent reason, the road is so bumpy with challenging moments that you just can't quite catch your breath.
There are lots of great writers - of blogs and books - for whom those kinds of days can spark a creative flurry. I totally get that for some writers, sometimes, that's where their Mama-writing-inspiration strikes, and the writing is what gets them through those very moments. I read their often-hysterical, usually-comforting words of the darker underbelly of parenting, and am grateful for the intimate stories they tell in the spirit of motherhood.
But for me, that's just never been what I'm inspired to write about. It's really as simple as that. It's not how or why I write.
There are so many things that get us through the days of parenting (because sometimes it's about soaring and some days it's truly about 'getting through'). A reassuring phone call to a spouse or a friend. The arrival of the sun at just the right time in the day. The sweet teachers we have in our children. The promise of an evening of creating in peace. The mindful mantras taped to a mirror and repeated as necessary (while ignoring the dirty mirror around it). And yes, sometimes by eating a pint of ice cream, locked alone in the bathroom at 9 o'clock in the morning, breathing deeply and trying to restore some sanity with which to continue the day mindfully, and with patience. (What? You've never done that?)
This blog, you see, is one of those things for me. It's a meditation of sorts. It's one of the ways in which I remind myself of the joys, the beauty and the blessings around me each and every day. Writing here helps me to remember. And it helps me to see and look for those things, people and moments which do bring me joy. Writing about them helps me hold onto those moments. And I find myself wanting and making more space and opportunity for these kinds of moments to enter our days...and my heart. You see how that works? It's a silly little ridiculous joy-addiction that feeds itself.
I rather like it. It's one of the ways I get through my days.
I think I've tried to say all of this in many different ways over the years, and I still don't know as though I've been successful at doing so. I know the consequence to the particular 'style' of my writing could lead one to think there is nothing buy joy, and peace, love and knitting needles in my life - if you choose to read/see it that way.
What you see and read here are snapshots. Real, honest, true and sometimes deeply personal snapshots that capture parts of my life and how I see it. But a snapshot is never complete or 'whole' of anything. I've never thought of my blog as a journal - this isn't the locked up diary at my bedside. Of course there are days when I'm just trying to get through. Of course. The thought that anyone could think/say that what I've got going on here isn't real or honest, or that what I write makes them feel inadequate - well, that just about breaks my heart. Because that's the last thing I've ever wanted from this space. My goodness...quite the opposite, my friends. I write for me, but I hit "publish" each day in the hopes that somehow - someway - these little ramblings of mine could inspire you to look for, to follow, to perhaps even create a moment of joy and beauty in your own day.
So what I was saying (I'm going for the record of Longest Blog Post ever here today)....Yesterday - one of those long and nutty days of mess and chaos - never really let up. It grew and snowballed all day long until bedtime, when I found myself slinging Harper and reading to the boys. Rocking back and forth amidst the mess on the floor that hadn't been cleaned up from the day, my mind was racing with discouraging thoughts of how the day had gone...and overwhelming lists of things I still had yet to do. And just about then...well, just then I tripped on one of Ezra's colored pencils - banana peel style - and landed squarely on my butt on the floor.
And just as I was deciding whether I was going to cry (and give up) or laugh (and give in), Harper stopped crying. And the boys started laughing.
And then Calvin said this to me:
"Mom. Can you even believe he's here? Like, before he was born, we went more places and stuff. But now? Now we have the coolest person in the world right here! With us! Every day!"
I've never heard anything more true in my life. Except that it's multiplied times four.
My days (and hands) are full in the truest sense of that word.
Thank you, friends, for joining me on this ride.