Familiar Roles

This feels familiar, as though I’m tracing my footsteps, falling back into a place I’ve known in the past but haven’t visited in a while.

I have become rusty at being in the real world, because as  time passed and seasons changed, my son and I have been creating our own.

It has been a dance of intensity and beauty and I know that we are still only at the beginning.

But the separation is slowly happening. I know we are both finally ready.

As my son expands his world into preschool and friends and independent play, I dust off my “grown up shoes” and try to remember how to walk in them.

This year, I am the Parent Council Chair at my son’s preschool. And my goodness gracious, to those of you that told me to run away when this was offered to me last spring, I owe you a big apology because I really should’ve listened. This job is more of an undertaking than I realized. I had told myself I would not get caught up in it, but as I become more involved and aware of the behind-the-scene action at the school, the more I want to be a part of it. I may be new and I may not want to spend the next year of my life stressed out with this work, but I think I really have a chance to make a difference here. I think this position was put in my path for a reason, and as much work as it is going to be, I also think it’s a blessing. I have done leadership roles before; I have played this part of organizer, brainstormer, care-a-little-too-mucher. I know I can do it again.

I also took a chance this year. A chance I have not dared to take in a long time. I auditioned for a big Christmas production put on by a local church. Most churches do Christmas productions, but apparently this production runs like a Broadway musical. It is an original script each year and the story is told through song, dance, and theater drama. Over 200 people auditioned. Auditions involved dance, vocal, and dramatic. Only 50 people were invited to call backs and 6 women were being considered for the female lead. So here is my big news: I got the lead! Performance used to be a huge part of my life, but I have not performed since 2008, right before I found out I was pregnant.  My skills are a bit rusty, but I am oh-so-ready to bring performance back into my life. There will be costumes, there will be lights, there will be make-up, there will be me trying to learn choreography and lines…and there will be that little piece of my soul that gets fulfilled by being on stage.

I am not sure how all of these pieces will fit back together as I balance motherhood with bits of my previous self, but I know that they will. I am also fighting my own guilt with the fact that I have chosen these roles rather than choosing to return to work. I try to get my Parent Council work done while Noah is in school and all show rehearsals will be at night. These two new roles, though not paid, will still allow me a lot of time with my son. For now, I have decided to feed my soul rather than my bank account.

So as I re-introduce myself to the world of paperwork and pull my dance shoes out of the back of the closet, I also prepare for the beginning of what’s next and pray for guidance into this next round of “new normal.”

(If you will be in the Richmond area around Christmas and are at all interested in attending these performances, you can visit this site for more details. http://gloriouschristmasnights.com/)

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A Weekend of Blessings

This weekend was full of moments that took my breath away. I was very aware of their presence, their simplicity, and their significance. I am incredibly blessed. I found myself moved when I was:

  • Laughing at 7:30 in the morning on Friday, because my son was being adorable. I usually barely function at that hour, let alone laugh.
  • Watching my son perform in his end-of the-year school assembly. He sang “This Little Light of Mine” with his fellow two-year-olds. Except he didn’t sing, he lifted his shirt up and showed his belly and then covered his ears. But it was precious.
  • Holding my son in my lap after his performance while we watched the older children do their songs. I got teary at the 5 year olds. I became very aware that it is only a few years before my son will the big kid in the 5-year-old class, giving his last performance before he graduates from preschool. I hugged my son even tighter in my lap and tried to stop tears as I had a flash-forward mommy moment.
  • After the assembly (does anyone say that word anymore?) we went to the youth room to throw a surprise baby shower for Mrs. P, the teacher assistant in my son’s class. All of the moms and the lead teacher had been collaborating for weeks. It was a great success. Mrs. P was so moved, she gave a teary speech about how blessed she’s been to have our children and this sweet class and us as parents. She is due in just three weeks, so she’s been pregnant almost the entire time we’ve known her. She said that she didn’t want to sound corny, but her baby has felt the energy of that class and our children and she thinks the gifts and energy our children gave to her she will carry with her the rest of her life. Beautiful moment. All the mommies were crying and all of the toddlers were happily engaged in running around the room and squealing.
  • Leaving my son’s school to realize I only had enough gas to make it to the nearest gas station. Where there was a line. And the toddler was crying because he was tired and a very elderly man in front of me was taking FOREVER, and then told me I better find a different pump to wait at. I was mad and flustered, and finally got a pump. As I was pumping, the old man asked me to come to his car. I was annoyed. But then he gave me a gold coin (a real one) and told me to give it to my little boy for his piggy bank. I was immediately humbled and honored. I graciously thanked him and reminded myself of what’s really important.
  • Pulling into my driveway to see that my hydrangeas, that have not bloomed in two years, have decided to present themselves.
  • As did a yellow rose.
  • And a peaceful sleeping toddler who was lulled by the car ride home.
  • The invigorating sense of community and life that going to the Farmer’s Market early on a Saturday morning brings me. (And the amazing goods we brought home.)
  • The peacefulness of laying in a hammock on a Saturday afternoon.
  • The joy and laughter I shared with my little boy when we went to Music in the Park on Sunday afternoon to hear my neighbor’s band play. We shared peanut butter and honey sandwiches, listened to music, I pushed him on a swing, and we danced and laughed and threw his hat. (I forgot to bring a ball.) It was perfect.
  • The excitement my son had over a bath I ran for him with yellow colored water. Yellow is his favorite.
  • Waking up Monday morning to my son curled by my side and my two cats nestled at my feet.

This weekend was filled with moments that made me stop and pause and see the beauty mixed into the simplicity of my life. And I’m oh so glad I noticed.

Dancing in the Wind

The sun showered down on us in slivers through the leaves; its brightness muted by the blossoming greenery.

Gentle breezes came and went and gracefully carried the kite with it as it blew, then gently placed it back on the ground when it stopped.

I watched the green kite dance in the wind as my little boy ran delightedly behind it, laughing and shrieking with joy at its flight.

A small let down in his face presented every time the breeze stopped and picked up just as quickly as it began to once again trace its steps in the wind. I watched as he trailed behind it and smiled, occasionally distracted by the flowers or rocks beneath his feet.

Cars on the road and the chirping of birds provided a background soundtrack to our moments of beauty.

I wish I had been able to capture this in a picture. This day of sunshine and breezes and the bright green of the kite contrasting with the bright red of the shirt my son picked out to wear this morning. Capture the exuberant smile on his face as he watched the kite dance in the wind and the way his hair ruffled with the same rhythm. The way the sunlight cast highlights in his hair and caught the sparkle in his eyes. Capture the playfulness of his laughter.

But there was no time for a camera and no way a camera could capture all of that anyway, so I stayed there in that moment, trying to narrate in my mind the beauty I was witnessing. I held the kite. I heard the laughter. I felt the breeze blow the kite, my son’s hair, and my body. I delighted on the pull of the kite string and the vision of my son running after it, and then sitting, perched in position for the gathering of flowers and rocks we would later take home.

I tried to encapsulate this moment in my mind. This view. This laughter. This dance of love happening in the wind. This brief moment of perfection.

He began to tire, and the breeze began to fade. It was time to go home. Whining and fussing would quickly take over if we did not go home for rest.

But in that moment, my life was a fairy tale. A picnic at a park on a random Tuesday, where my joy was encompassed in the dance of a kite and a boy’s laughter floating in the wind.

*Today, my little guy is 33 months old. Where, oh where, is this time going?