So, it would only make sense that on the day I felt compelled to do watercolors and write about my children, my oldest had the kind of attitude that makes one question what they are doing wrong. I'm glad I had finished before we had to have the talk on gratitude and perspective. I meditated, let it go, and here they are. It's the way of motherhood: The grace, the growth, the thankless and the thought of how fleeting it is. I always hear a voice in my heart telling me that I will miss these squabbles and the countless "Mama!" screams my two-year old belts out.
One of my favorite quotes about giving freedom and space is from The Dalai Lama XI:
"Give the ones you love wings to fly. Roots to come back and reasons to stay."
Below are three little poems I'm going to put in each of my children's photo books.
"The Wing-Maker."
Every mother taking good care to raise her children well have raised them to have wings to fly. What I'm too often reminded of is how hard it will be when they actually DO...fly.
I want them to be independent, strong and fearless in most ways, but I'm human and know that I'll miss the little in them, and the little things of now.
In the throws of this job and profound honor, it's quite easy to focus on all the issues and problems, logistics and lack of freedom (time, ability to travel, sanity). When I force myself to truly take note of how it feels in the thick of it, I'm in awe. One focused moment of memory and I'm already a little nostalgic for the times behind me.
Try it. Sit quietly, remember what you loved, how they smelled, funny things they said and within minutes your entire perspective can change from frustration to fanciful fleeting familial beauty.
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