the onslought of joy and duty
the monkey fully embraced life in the mountains. he spent the month clad in silly bands, lanyard necklaces, shoes that were perpetually wet from creek walking, and a wide, sticky, ice-creamy grin. nothing spells camp like tight sweaty ringlets, the constant talk of counselors and fellow campers, and a slew of silly songs playing on repeat inside an almost-four-year-old head.
meanwhile, the bird picked up his new favorite hobby: throwing rocks in the creek. he replaced his barely distinguishable babble with real words that actually made sense in context, and thereby joined fellow toddlers throughout time and space in demonstrating for their elders what a miracle the human grasp of language really is. he had his own pair of perpetually wet shoes and his own allotment of silly bands (thanks to the monkey). like his brother, he waltzed into clubs every day to a chorus of counselors’ welcomes.
is is possible that my children did an entire years’ worth of growing up in one month? from certain angles i took in their shaggy hair and occasional nonchalance and imagined their impending teenage years. i saw that what my friend steve says is true: “with parenting, the days go by slowly but the years go by quickly.”
or perhaps it was my own relaxed, campy persona that gave me pause to take a broader view of my children and their progress. with both children in childcare for the first time, i found myself hiking on mountain trails, practicing yoga in a local studio, and sipping coffee on the porch. this time afforded me a glimpse into a future stage, with increased spare time and possibilities.
parenting’s relentless onslaught of joy and duty seems to evoke a delayed sort of processing. there is no time to sift through the realities of one stage until the next stage is dawning. i have been a parent for almost four years now, but this recent preview of the future is the first real glimpse i have gotten of life beyond babyhood. i was able to remember what i liked to do before i had kids and imagine a life that will return me to those things someday.
but for now i am content to re-enter our memphis routine — the onslaught of joy and duty. however, i do this with the new knowledge that though the days go by slowly, the years truly do fly by, carrying the sweet sounds of baby babble with them.
August 2nd, 2010 at 10:26 am
I just cried reading this.
I cried joyful tears at my upcoming jaunt into staying at home.
I cried hopeful tears at hearing that the time will come when I can re-discover myself and the things I love to do outside of parenting.
And I cried bittersweet tears, at being reminded of just how fast they grow. You blink and they are no longer babies…or even toddlers. Sigh…
August 2nd, 2010 at 10:49 am
love it
August 2nd, 2010 at 4:47 pm
Yay! She is back! I am working on a “we’re back” post too. Glad to hear you had a great time in the mountains. Now to come sip some coffee on our porch and look out at the “lake”
August 2nd, 2010 at 6:23 pm
Goosebumps. You have such a way with words, Mary Allison. And sometimes I feel like you live inside my brain. Kind of crazy since I haven’t seen you in years! Still loving the blog and so happy you’re back! Oh, and I do realize I owe you an email!