We’ve had some rough days this week, the girls and me, but those are almost always followed up with calm and rewarding sequels. I know they’re just kids and I know they only know what they know, but the amount of complaining and whining hit a threshold and I couldn’t keep any of my frustration in. The Compassion Experience is coming through our town the end of the month and if we can make it, I desperately hope it sticks in their heads. The amount of abundance our family has, and the amount of waste, it bogles my mind. The more they complain, the more I want to dig my heels into this 1500 sq ft home, make them continue to share a room until college, and throw half their toys away. And maybe a part of that anger was directed at myself, for also wanting more than we need. We are so rich, in the most important of ways.
The lulling waves of our arguments and apologies and snipes and prayers, it’s an inevitable water to tread together as we all mature.
But then, the warm weather broke and we spent a much needed afternoon outdoors in the cool wind. It was life-breathing.
Gertie and I were laying in the grass together as the others flew their kite and above we saw three monarch butterflies flying south. They were flying so high, as far up as the birds and I worried they were too high. I don’t know why I love monarchs so much.
Every night this week either Ryan or I have been gone, attending classes or speakers or meeting with mentors. We’ve been passing by as the other started the second shift, barely enough time to go through our days. Tonight is our church date night and as much as I always love a good event to go to, the best thing is to do is sit across from each other for 2 hours.
Water therapy was cancelled today and I was thankful. We had a slow morning where we played and swung outside in the mist. The girls got new rain boots and rode their pretend horses around outside: Oatmeal and Booma, smacking their reigns and yelling “hi-yah” over and over.
Instead of starting her school work, we got out the paints, and gave Gertie some playdoh. They said they were pretending to be Bob Ross’ daughters. I’ve only shown them a few of his videos and they quickly lost interest, so it surprised me to hear his name brought up. If you could feel the happiness. When they’re in that sweet space, they chatter about everything and call me mama and I genuinely feel like one.
The beginnings of Annie’s painting, it was my favorite part. The top yellow circle is the sun, the bottom two would eventually become our heads. She asked me if I knew what the red line was and answered it herself, saying it’s the line where grass and the sky meet. Thanks Bob!
I’m ashamed to say this is the first time I’ve painted with Gertie. It was part fear of the unknown: her eating it or smearing it all over herself, the mess to clean up, and basically just being a pansy. She loved it, of course. But I can’t fall into the trap of beating myself up for not trying earlier, she may not have been ready anyway.
I’m a contented mama today. Gonna make that choice to be one tomorrow too.