Thursday, 8 October 2015


Morning. Relived faces of parents just dropped off the kids to daycare. Understanding nods and holds of the door to the ones that are coming in still with the little wanderers. One walking child will get you a patient door hold from a stranger. Two, and you'll catch a sigh of agreement and compassion. If you are walking in with three, it's usually a wonder/pity/gazing-at-hero kind of stare. I thought I was busy and run down before kids. It's all relative.

Kinda reminds me of Bob Marley's "If she's amazing, she won't be easy. If she's easy, she won't be amazing. If she's worth it, you wont give up. If you give up, you're not worthy. ... Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for."

Only it works for anything in life. Parents seem to be epidemically exhausted for the heart softening reward of a quirky grin, a monkey hug and a smoochy kiss right in the lips, because kids refuse to understand the civilized cheek pecks. But somehow, the reward does seem to be amazing and all-worth-it.

I feel the unity of the parents marching in after a hectic get-up/feed/get-dressed/get-them-in-the-car/survive-the-hyper-drive-on-the-road, dropping off the miracles of life, just to head to an 8 hours of "actual work" that feels like a vacation, quite frankly. Just like combat solders in a war zone that everyone knows will not be over any time soon.

As I realize this, I feel the tension rising up my shoulders into oh, so usual crow-like posture.
The mornings are truly a humbling experience. If you attempt to stay present with it for a length of time you will confront your bodily, emotional and mental weaknesses. They will present themselves, so they can be addressed.

I instinctively start to breathe space into my shoulders and try to relax them down. If I don't enjoy this now, as it's happening, I won't enjoy it at all. I better start enjoying.

The stories I tell myself start to dissipate, the ego lets go of the grip. "How do you always seem so together?" I hear behind me from another mom. I smile. It's interesting what you assume about what you don't see.