Wednesday, October 07, 2009

I am crying, standing at the kitchen window, looking out into the yard at Meera in her pink baby swing with Margie watching her, swinging her and raising her hands up in a sprinkle of fingers to entertain the baby; I know she is singing. Heather is standing there crying with me, we've just dropped the boys off at the bus stop, they're off to school.  We've been up for a couple hours, we're about to go to work.

Meera had her bottle at 2 AM.  I am stressed out about cash flow for the company and am awake for 2 hours, but Meera sucks down her bottle and I feel her breathing ease and she's asleep in my lap; I put her back in the crib, she rolls over on her side, content, sleeping. I remind myself to be with the baby, not with work, this time is precious.  I go back to bed, Heather reminds me to relax and let myself sleep. Owen wakes up with a nightmare and he finishes the night in bed with us.  Kyle is up early as always, excited to get to school, he comes in dressed and ready, it's 6 AM.

Heather and I have a glass of wine, talk about the day, try to get centered.  We can't figure this life out, as much as we try.  Our children are slipping by so quickly, they are growing with out any regard for our desire to slow down.  I see them so clearly, every little bit, but then the moment is gone. But I fell like I am missing them every minute of the day. Heather is missing them every minute of the day. Is this just how it is to be a parent, or is it something else?

We have a rich life, full of meaning, intimacy and love. I know we are beyond lucky, beyond privileged that I can even think about these things. I look out at the people in the world doing good works, struggling, filled with desire, filled with angst, fear and hope. Of all the many things we are concerned with, right now, this feels the most pressing in some ways. In some ways not, but on my heart, is is the most pressing.

We are looking for an answer I think. Or we're looking for some kind of grace. Or maybe, we don't even know what we're looking for yet.

8 comments:

The Jabber said...

I hope you stop every once in awhile and acknowledge yourselves for the damn fine job you are doing - as parents, as professionals, as world citizens. Life is happening, and it might fly by sometimes, faster than you like, but there's nothing wrong. Your kids are great, they're doing great. And you, Heather and Braydon, are extraordinary.

Shannon- said...

I love it when you post. Thank you both for sharing as much as you do. Praying for your peace. It will come.

Leslie said...

I think this is the joy and pain of being a parent, and the two are so interchangeable. There are so many times where I look at Olivia, in those tiny little moments and my heart wants to break. Sometimes it's a face she makes, sometimes it's the way she moves, sometimes it the way she looks at me, or a sweet moment that we share. And I want to turn into a big gob of crying goo because I know that specific nano second will never come again. She will never be the same as she was in that one tiny moment, and I can't stop that.

Mayhem said...

I think that's just how it is to be a parent... There's no such thing as getting it ALL right, and the whole "finding balance" thing? I suspect it is a nasty, guilt-inducing myth. In my life, anyway, there is no balance, there is just the choices we make every day about where we want our focus to be for that moment.

M3 said...

No answers here, but sending huge hugs to you both.

Malia'sMama said...

And, now I am crying...

T & T Livesay said...

Love your hearts. I get you.

rebekah said...

Hi. I came to you guys through that lady I adore at Under the Acacia Tree - looking for thoughts on Montessori but I think your kids are at a Waldorf place... so...

But this post struck me. We both feel this too. We are unsettled as we go about our days and when making decisions, we feel pulled away from our sweet suburban life. We've chosen this path, with our Ethiopian adoption, and now... how far do we go?

We are patient to see, and yet, not really.