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Love is a Warm Hand on a Cold Butt Cheek
And this too shall pass, for better or worse.
Yesterday my kids drove me crazy. They argued and whined and then I went to bed feeling bad about not playing trucks for long enough and about not making time for a silly game before bed. Instead, I rushed them to their bedrooms so I come back downstairs and cower on the sofa reading scary news headlines on my phone.
Today my kids did not drive me crazy. I read eight books to my son instead of the usual two or three and then I laid with him, stroking his hair as he fell asleep. I read to my daughter and talked to her as we laid in her bed looking out the window, watching a plane in the sky and wondering who was on it and where they were going.
Parents exist in a hurricane of emotions. Fear and hope hang together like low clouds on the horizon. Occasionally they’ll be blown away and the sky will open up to reveal pure adoration or acute frustration. Joy and sadness rain down at the same time, as firsts and lasts go flying by, faster and faster each year.
This winter, our family maintained a breakneck pace of skiing, working, dance classes, play practice, meetings, parties, playdates and ice skating. And now we’ve suddenly been met with a giant pause button that has tipped our lives upside down.
