Season of Want.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Before you know it, there you are.  
Sitting in the basement among piles of worn onesies, baby shoes and baby hats, baby socks and baby bibs,
as your growing children run wildly like a herd of elephants in the dining room above your head.
As you sift through the rubble,  
bouncy seats and high chairs and car seats that've all been benched in the dank and dark below the stairs in oversized bins. . .for what?
The next time?
A garage sale?
How does a mom move on?
Before you know it, you're borrowing your son's socks when you haven't gotten to the laundry,
your baby girl, who yesterday staggered awkwardly from foot to foot, 
so unsure of herself, 
is doing cartwheels and handstands and jump roping.         
I'm sure I will be punished for this statement, 
but life with my 3 kids is. . .it's good.
Manageable?  Can I say that out loud?
When the slightest air of my arrogance peaks the top of it's big fat head over the rail,
life swoops in and knocks it out, 
like whack-a-mole.
So I'll just leave it at that.
But I'm trying to figure out what it is, 
when life is good, "comfortable," settled,
I find myself craving more?
What is that?
Aside from being a glutton for punishment, you might say,
what is it that has us yearning for more?   
It's hard for me to articulate this thought.
Maybe I can just say it's wanting more life. . .more living, that I long for.
Excitement, adventure, undiscovered territory, an expansion on what I know, more room to stretch and grow.
The ground here in MN is still heavy with snow.
Hearty icicles dangle from our gutter-less roof,
piles of mittens without a partner, 
hats, jackets and smelly boots huddle close to the side door,
but you can feel it.  
Spring.  Change.  New.  It's coming.  
It's a subtle shift, but I start to feel it as we 'round the corner to March.
When morning temps begin above 30 and you can hear the drip, drip, drip of those icicles hitting the pavement below.
Something about this, before the morning dove's have arrived and the streams have begun flowing,
that a fire is lit.  To do more.  Experience more.  FEEL more.
At this point,
the laziness of winter has caught up with me.
Our main source of entertainment these recent days, 
has been found in the florescent glow of ipads and iphones, Super Mario Bros. and whatever else we can electronically do to pass the time until Spring has made its entrance.
This surrender to winter has crept in to my expanding waistline and now second chin, my hairy legs and dusty end tables.
Time to wake up, like a bear rising from its winter slumber.   
On any given day, regardless of the season,
I can always find time to lend a hand to dreaming, and then putting it into words, here.
My dreaming has a mind of its own.When I have it all, I always want more.  To see what I'm capable of.
I want another baby, I want to adopt a baby, I want a chicken coop filled with fatty chickens, a garden, a cabin. . .
I've even been dreaming of dogs!  I'm not even a fan of dogs!
I mean, they're adorable and all, but the hair and the smell and the germs. . .not to mention, Jack is severely allergic to them.
More.  More, more, more.
Just TALKING about all of this, SHARING my honest feelings, 
makes my husband sweat like a whore in church.
Sometimes I think that's why I was given a husband, someone to ground this wild beast of a woman, 
who'd probably be in the circus by now or still attempting to get on American Idol or So You Think You Can Dance.
A much more grounded person, as my conscience,
a man filled with logic and reasoning and razor-sharp focus.
This person when my conscience and intuition fails me,
tells me when something is simply "not a good idea."
My own self RARELY, if ever tells me that. 
I need marriage to my husband, the stability and centeredness and reality he brings this dreamer.
But.  I still am who I am.
Nothing is impossible to me and I think I can have it all.
One of my favorite quotes on a magnet that has come by way of a Hallmark Store shelf, reads,
Sometimes on the way to one dream, we get lost and find a better one."
I want to believe that. 
One of my favorite bloggers posted this the other day and it helps me contain my wants for the moment.
"Sometimes you don't know you want these things until fate picks them for you.  And then you're thankful that you don't get to make all your own choices because that would be kind of selfish and boring, and you'd never get to experience your secret wants--the ones only fate knows." -Kelle Hampton
I've spent much of the past four years, while tending to my three children, dreaming of more.
Making the assumption my husband would go right along with my plan, that it would just happen how I'd dreamt. 
Life takes over and we learn day after day that the ideas and dreams we had our hearts set on, may never come to fruition, 
and that in THAT, blessedly, fatefully, new dreams will unfold.
You learn in marriage, two separate lives joined in sacredness
still have their OWN separate dreams, their own visions and their own ideas for this short life.  
Having them fall in step alongside one another, takes work, compromise and often times, sacrifice.
Sometimes, all you can do is hope, and allow presence to keep you here where you are instead of where you'd like to be.
Because where you'd like to be?  May not be right anyway.
On a lazy Sunday, I fell asleep on the couch with my baby girl, now 6, 
tucked cozily in my arms, curled in to me like a little kitten on a windowsill.
"Hello."  She said in to my eyelashes.
"Hello."  I smiled and responded.

And I fell asleep to that dream, of those precious moments,
visions of the births of these children, that same intimacy and unforgettable moments of their first breaths, first touch of nose to nose, first smell of their fresh baby skin that I can dream of and call to mind at any time.
We fell asleep like that, only to awake, not to a new baby, but a peacefully sleeping, healthy and beautiful 6-year-old, just as precious as the day I first met her.
Reminded that THIS is where I am and where I need to be. 
That outside of what I want and THINK I need, 
is the truth.  Reality unfolding, if I'll allow it. 
Awaiting spring, I continue to dream about the future,
wonder about the way our life will continue to open,
but work to stay present.  Always present.
Getting lost in my own dreams from time to time, 
as I parent and help my children find and grab hold of their own.
I'm not ready for this chapter of life to be done,
or maybe I've made that my broken record,
because I'm afraid of what's next, afraid of living in the unknown.
I know babies and late nights and diapers and nursing and feel comfortable in it.
(Easily forgetting how tough and exhausting those days are, now having been separated from it for a few years,)
Forgetting and not fully appreciating and being present in the freedom and space and ease at which a family of five can move. 
I'll get there.  
And in the meantime, continue to dream. 



gabbygrace said...

keep dreaming friend; and loving those babies; so blessed we are; awesome writing- perfection

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