Sunday, November 26, 2017

Goodbye Again

It's been almost 12 months of P working away from us, from home, and although the monthly goodbyes have gotten smoother, they have not gotten easier. A thought crossed my mind as I walked him out to his truck today, carrying his work boots.

It's like when you get a cold and your nose is all stuffy, and you have to breathe through your mouth at night to get some sleep, and it takes FOREVER to fall asleep because your body is like "Wait, that's not right, that's not how it goes. This is not the normal, perfectly measured amount of air we normally intake as we sleep, and I don't like it so I'm going to stay awake until it gets fixed."
Technically, everything is fine with your body. You're not dying. You're not asphixiating. Respiration goes as normal. The only difference is that your nose is clogged up and booger-y, so your mouth is open and drooly and your throat gets dry from the constant inhaling and exhaling. But thats NOT how it's supposed to go, dammit. Then you think about how ungrateful you've been every night of your life for never thanking your nose for supplying you with perfect amount of air to fall asleep to.

When P is home, I can finally use my nose again. We fall into completeness, and we get to living. And the days pass by so damn fast that I forget to be grateful that both mouth and nose are available to breathe.

And then the weekend is over, and it's time to say goodbye again, and time to settle down and re-learn how to live without a nose. Life goes on pause, existing but not truly living. Of course, E makes it much livelier than it's been in the past, but he misses daddy too. One day, hopefully sooner than later, we will all live in the same zip code and it will be amazing.

Sincerely,
Perpetual Mouthbreather

Sunday, June 25, 2017

The Attitude of Toddlers

A toddler does not fall down 100 times and think "maybe walking isn't for me."


I saw this quote on Pinterest and knew it was the epitome of my intrepid son. Today as I tried to feed him dinner with the least amount of distractions possible, he reached his little arm across the table as far as it would go to grab the spoon. It was clearly several inches too far away, yet he never desisted and he never thought "maybe it's just too far beyond my reach". This action is repeated far and wide many many times throughout the day, and today I had quick moment of reflection.

It's so hard being a toddler. It's hard to communicate, it's hard to walk quickly, it's hard to carry things, grown-ups don't always want to play, and you hardly ever get your way. This in no way deters my Emmett from trying and trying and trying some more. He never thinks "I can't go as fast as my mom" or "I can't walk down the stairs" or "I can't reach my snacks" or "I can't possibly catch this cat." He can't do a lot of things, but he doesn't know it. He just keeps on trying with everything he's got to reach his goal, and never gives up, even when there's no hope.

Maybe this is just a personality trait of my particular toddler (he's dangerously stubborn) or maybe it's part of growing up and all babies are this way, but wouldn't it be something if all adults had the same bravery and single-mindedness towards their goals? What if I had never thought "chemistry is too hard, I'll take it next semester" 3 years in a row? What if I had never said "there is no way they'll consider my application, I'm just a college grad with no experience." Or even now, what if I stop thinking "I can't go to grad school and be a full-time mom" and just do it like Emmett would: with a can-do and no-fear-of-failure attitude?

I must go chase after my little hurricane now, but he's certainly given me a lot to think about, and a lot to live up to.
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