Motherhood and Other Impossible Things

I have some things on my mind.  Perhaps if I convey the stories we can both ponder and it might bring some type of understanding of what is happening in my world.

So last week I am driving past the middle school; and my child remarks that the girls soccer games have started.  And due to scheduling, some of their games will be on the practice field.  I asked why — because that field isn’t maintained like the other field.  She replies that the boys’ soccer team gets to use the actual field, the girls only use it if the boys do not need it.  I was genuinely surprised and expressed something about the unfairness of it.  Her reply was “well, Mom, that’s just the way it is.”  Hmmm.  Okay.

This week I am conversing with a young friend of another one of my children.  We are discussing the fact that she runs for the track team.  “Oh, cool!” I exclaim as we discuss what events she participates in.  “Do you like to run?” I ask.  “Umm, well — no.”  The child looks down, avoiding my eyes.  “Well, then why do you do it?” I ask.  “For college; to get a scholarship; I do things to get into college  — that’s the only reason I do anything.”  Hmmmm.  Okay.

See this picture?  Today I am looking at this paperwhite; I put it into water back in December; had a big ‘ole vase of them — most grew roots and bloomed beautifully in my bedroom, bringing the luxurious feel and scent of Spring throughout this dark Winter.  When I went to compost the spent bulbs this one was lurking in the bottom; maybe it was crowded by the others, maybe it just didn’t like the sunlight or temperature.  I placed it in it’s own little vase on my kitchen window, and noticed it daily.

And now, a little late, it is blooming.  It makes me happy.  And I am noticing how long the roots are; it took a LOT of water.  I notice the pregnant bulge of the bulb; and how very many green leaves it takes to create the food to feed this one small and short-lived bundle of flowers.

All these stories lead to an emotional hard spot — I have hit a patch in my mothering career that is beyond difficult.  I have a problem, and I do not know what to do.

I look back through the years of being a parent — I have felt many emotions.  I have been confused; terrified; overwhelmed; exhausted.  I have been thrilled; amazed; joyful; hopeful; and filled with a love so deep I thought I would burst.  Gazing back to the toddler years with my rose colored bifocals and it seems there was more black and white then. 

As I move into parenting teens there is this vast sea of gray. 

So, today, I will remember my paperwhite; it couldn’t just fit in with the pack; it needed it’s own space and extra attention.  And it blossomed on its schedule, not mine.

Shanti,

Jill

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