we’re struggling to find our normalcy in the midst of such change. I’m struggling to keep normalcy for the little one – I’m struggling to keep normalcy for this momma. all of this is new, all of this different, all of this so unknown. new faces, new experiences, new sounds and new rhythms that have a little voice asking “when does it get dark here? it’s a different dark here than before.”
so I bring us back to nature time and again – to see the familiar, to smell and feel and same as we’ve always experienced. and, most importantly, to know that even when all is changing all around us, this is where we ground ourselves. I need to see this, I need to help the little one know that in all the ‘good-different’ she’s experiencing, there’s still so much that remains static. the oak leaves and the acorns, the pine needles and pine cones … and some of my favorite moss to explore and be so wholly accepted by its soft landing.
this momma is also learning to listen to more than words all the time from the little one. learning when to hold close and when to show the little one how big those wings can stretch. nurturing connections with new friends and nurturing the strong connections with friends who have been held so dear for so long. this balance in all of us, especially for the little one, is so hard, so uncharted, often so raw and so vulnerable.
here’s to sunsets and learning about the darkness that’s different, but not for long. here’s to finding, as we did last evening in the sun-setting haze, little toads that fit on a momma’s fingertip for the little one and her friend to investigate. here’s to knowing that tomorrow brings a beautiful sunrise and, with that, the ability to start another day, together, with our faces to the sunshine.
here’s to change and new adventures – and to letting go of some things to gain others.