I usually love birthdays, especially mine. But this year I just wasn't in the mood to have one. In fact, it's fair to say I've been pouting about it for over a week now. I resisted all attempts to cheer me up and demands that I make plans to celebrate. The harder people tried, the surlier I got. Until -- well -- my birthday actually arrived. It's here now. Today. And you know what? I'm happy.
I'm happy that back in December I planned to meet some folks for happy hour at The Speakeasy last night, unrelated to my birthday. Happy that Brad & Joey took the initiative to bring fancy and delicious cupcakes to the event. Happy that my friends invited my other friends, against my will, and that many of those friends also brought sweet and thoughtful gifts which I would have said they shouldn't bring. Really happy that Aunt Jenny didn't let me bully her and Uncle Steve out of driving the 8 hours RT to San Francisco to be here less than 24 hours. But I'm most happy, happiest of all, that I woke up age 40 today with a precious toddler poking at, and naming, the people in the room and our body parts -- beginning, as always, with our eyes.
I suppose what's been dragging me down this last couple weeks has been all the change on its way to our world. I don't want to work FT next school year. I don't want to decrease my time with Django, nor his time with Max & Mommy Tedra. Yet, it appears I must. I don't know where I'll be working or where Django will be learning, growing & playing. And this little bit of not-knowing -- a not-knowing I recognize as temporary and totally manageable -- has cracked my demon closet wide open. Even though nothing has changed yet, I feel a state of limbo lurking all around me, pressing in. Melodramtic, but true.
Time to stage-dive again, I suppose, letting the loving, upstretched hands of family and friends carry Django and I through to whatever awaits us on the other side of the summer. But like everything else about being a parent, stage-diving requires a leap of faith. I'm still working up to it.
2 comments:
aren't you a lucky mama!
i went to Mammoth for your birthday and made my first snowman. i named him Kara in honor of you. hurray for 40!
It's so hard not to "look for zebras". That's my new vow. Don't look for'um. How many horses are there? How often do you see them? How often do you see a zebra? I'm sure you "get it". I was looking for a zebra earlier this week and I actually lost 2 pounds before the wise Dr. Stainer reminded me not to look for the zebras. It will all work out, and well too. Django has such a fabulous start. He's going to thrive no matter where he is. Remember too that teachers get weekends, Christmas, Spring and summers off-holidays too! Lissy is lamenting missing this Easter with Nathan and the whole egg hunt thing.
Psst, don't look for zebras!
Post a Comment