Thoughts on Motherhood
Part II: Chasing Rainbows
Part II: Chasing Rainbows
My childhood was a good one.
I have memories full of fresh raspberries from the back alley, and dirty carrots from the garden. We had a big, beautiful, smelly dog. I dug up worms. We slid down snow covered hills. When my mom made bread she would give me a little chunk of dough to play with. And when the sun would shine through the kitchen window, she would spin the crystals that hung there, so I could chase the rainbows. I got sunburns and mosquito bites. And sometimes mosquito bites on sunburns. We climbed mountains. We slept in tents. My mom read to us when we were young. We got lost together in Narnia, and on the Prairie, and at Green Gables. She sang to me to help me sleep. She would race me to do up my seat belt when we got in the van. My dad let me ride on his feet when I was little, and would two step with me in the kitchen as I got older. He helped coach my basketball camps and my volleyball teams. They taught me to pray. And they prayed for me. They have caught me when I've fallen. Over and over.
I have good parents.
In my rush to get through each day, I have been stumbling past the moments. Moments that are thick with phrases like "hurry up" or "not right now." And this week as my boy's 2 bottom adult teeth have snuck into place, I feel an urgency that is hard to explain. A need to offer him some magic moments. Some rainbows to chase. A feeling that I've failed him. That we've run out of time to experience the magic, and that real life is going to hit any minute.
And if I think hard, about what would stick, even if all magic ended as adult teeth arrived, I realize that he has had magic. Walks through ivy covered forests. Entire days on warm, breezy beaches. Books. More books than I can count. Evenings around fires, and nights in tents. Staying up late for fireworks, and getting up early to catch ferry boats. Imaginary dragon friends. Snuggles, wrestles, tickles and rounds and rounds of "pinchy pinchy pokey pokey." We've had adventures, in stories, and in real life. We've swam in the ocean and lakes. We've dressed up as super heroes, as pirates as ninjas and as animals. We've cried, we've laughed, and occasionally, we have dance parties in the kitchen.
And although I do feel an urgency to start my own collection of crystals, to hang in my window, I realize that we've had truly beautiful experiences together. One day my kids will be able to say "My childhood was a good one." Why? Because they have a mama, who will do all she can to offer them experiences of beauty, love, connection, and magic.