I spend too much time raiding windmills
We go side by side
Laughing until its right
Today my son and daughter romped through my front yard capturing and escaping each other. There were good guys and bad guys. There was talk of dragons. One of them requested a cape. The other a helmet and ‘some super special power mom, that can lock the bad guys in the cage with super strength.’ Legions of ladybugs were plucked from my rose bushes and employed as baby bad guys.
It wasn’t long before chalky sidewalks and littered toys on the lawn signaled a tremendous amount of imagination and life had occurred right there as I watched.
Everything was an adventure. Everything sparked something else. From monsters to dinosaurs to princesses to robots.
Nothing was impossible, except the errant frustration of fastening a button or fixing a misplaced rock.
As an adult I can remember that feeling. I admit I get that feeling still.
I get excited.
I get emotional.
I get passionate.
Much like in childhood, these characteristics get me fleeting from shiny object to shiny object. I will swear to you I have never loved one like it before.
And I mean it.
Much like in childhood, reality can be dismissed while dreams are realized.
I spend a lot of time lately being introspective. Motherhood versus the reality of children and responsibility. Teaching the idea that anything is possible while tempering with slight cynicism.
All while I continue to invest myself in many dreams and countless shiny objects. Knowing and seeing the possibilities.
It makes me a rather difficult adult to deal with.
… couldn’t hold her…
There’s something that you wont show
Waiting where the light goes
And anyway the wind blows
Its all worth waiting for
The kids complained as I made them come inside this evening. The toys put away. The dirt washed off. Their minds, however, never stopped playing.
There is something to be said for that- the very idea that it doesn’t shut off.
There are things in life that need to be taken care of, baths and bills…clean up and turning in. Appointments. Laundry. Forms. Schedules. Obligations.
But it doesn’t shut off.
I spend too much time raiding windmills…
Maybe.
I’ve been much more introspective since becoming a parent last year. It’s really weird how the mind suddenly flashes back to our childhood.
Happy early Mother’s Day!
beautiful. (i’ve been listening to that song soooo much this last week). but anwyay, this was just a lucious bit of writing. thanks.
I find myself thoroughly jealous as I do not find myself excited about much (besides photography) anymore. Your thoughts are inspiring, though.
Lovely post. I thought the passionate, emotional, excitable parts of me would be patted down when I became a parent. Instead, I think that watching my son has put me back in closer touch with those feelings.
I also think shiny object infatuation is part of a journalist’s biological makeup. Whether you’ve done it for one year or thirty, having the excuse to ask anyone questions about anything that interests you is oddly liberating. And when you share information, and you’ve seen it help even one person… damn! Now that’s addictive.
This is beautiful girlfriend. You’re going to look back at this entry even a couple of years from now and be glad you wrote it. Hold tight to these years – they are going by so fast! 🙁
Lovely. Toad for the Win.
the first time i read the book ‘roxaboxen’ to my son, i had tears streaming down my face by the end – and i didn’t know where they came from. your post stirred the same emotions.
Beautiful post! Brought tears to my eyes.