I was in a hurry,
walking fast and rushed.
I had just left the house in slight chaos and was feeling unbalanced.
I had Canton strapped to my chest in the Bjorn and was heading towards the library to attend a parenting workshop
I was feeling a little ‘heavy’ and weighed down.
The physical weight of the baby and my canvas bag filled with the necessities needed to successfully attend a two hour workshop with an infant were burying deep within the muscles of shoulders and back .
The emotional weight of the rushed night and busy day were bearing heavy on my mind.
I was feeling good but exhausted balancing on a tight-rope hoping not to fall in a pit of self defeat.
I didn’t want to be late.
I took a shortcut.
I walked along the path of the old rail road tracks.
I walked across the bridge and looked in on the waterfront condominiums.
These homes have windows from ceiling to floor, allowing the residents to have full access to the beauty of the Mississippi.
As I unabashedly peered into these windows, drinking in the brief snap shots of the lives of others.
I interpreted my pictures into full collage of life in these homes.
I saw adult homes.
Hot meals at appropriate times.
In the Dimmed lights of a living room I saw a woman sitting comfortably on the couch watching the news.
And for a brief moment, I wished that was me.
I wished I was alone on my couch watching the news.
In slience, living my adult life amongst beautiful art and drinking tea in a clean kitchen.
But it didn’t take long for me to fall back into reality.
The slow and rythmical breathing against my own chest reminded me.
Reminded me that even with the chaos, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
His little heart beat against mine reminded me what it felt like to not be alone.
I wanted to admire my babies paintings as great works of art.
I wanted to sing old mcdonald for the 100th time.
I wanted to eat dinner at 4:30 pm so I can make sure they get to bed early and have a good sleep.
I wanted to sit messy kitchen nursing a baby amongst princess playing cards and childrens sippy cups and enjoy my cold cup of tea.
I wanted my life.
The weight of my busy and choatic days may make me feel heavy,
but the weight of my babies on my soul makes me feel plentiful.
The weight of my life keeps me grounded.
Keeps me here.
Look at your own stress as the weight of the day,
the weight of your life.
Oh how that weight can bring us joy.
Allowing us to feel full of abundance and heavy.
“Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did – that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that – a parent’s heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.”