One Long Ribbon
Published on May 13, 2012
No matter what, I “never ever” go to bed without brushing my teeth.
In the last two weeks of being a Mom for the first time–that carnal rule of mine has gone by the wayside. At least once.
I’m also typing this blog post with one hand.
And sure, none of this will get me an award–and none of this means much to anyone but me. And none of this really says much about living with a newborn.
Until you go through it.
Until all of a sudden you realize that you are no longer the same person you once were. That all of a sudden you do things differently—and not by choice–or even necessity–but simply because your DNA has changed. The molecular structure of your heart has shifted. Your brain has somehow got used to exhaustion and now tolerates the feel of feces on your hand or white spit up running down your neck.
All of a sudden you wake up and know what to do.
At least you think so for awhile.
Then tomorrow comes and what worked yesterday is not doing the trick today.
And I’m relearning the Art of laughing at myself–at not taking things so seriously. I’m relearning the importance of grass under bare feet and sunshine on my shoulders–even if it’s only for a few minutes.
I’m relearning the science of discovery–the enlightenment of magic–the importance of wonder.
I’m relearning unconditional love and the words to forgotten lullabies.
I’m relearning the ingredients of happiness like memorizing the periodic table.
Or maybe I’m just being clever.
Maybe I’m not doing anything special that hasn’t been done before–through my ancestors and yours. Passed down from woman to woman. Never skipping a generation. Never missing a lunar cycle. Never depleting the midnight sky of it’s darkness.Or denying the sun it’s radiance.
Just simply letting the energy move.
One long ribbon of love–tangled, knotted, and thin in places.
But stronger than any precious metal.
Happy Mother’s Day, to every woman.
Happy Mother’s Day.
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