When You Don’t Feel Like Parenting-An Ode to Joy


A friend asked me how I was feeling the other day, to which I replied, “great!”  But then immediately admitted it to be an outright lie and that, actually, I wasn’t feeling that great at all.

I get this question a lot these days, being about 6 months pregnant, and probably of a haggard and plodding appearance that communicates, well, tired.  I’m just plain tired.  Some days joy eludes me, even with these bright lights of soul whirling innocent and free around me in the form of small dependent beings.
And I make it out the door today, alone and with hours at my disposal.

And there is this screen that is blank with possibility-my favorite style of screen.

But, you know, I’m not in the mood to write about parenting today.  I’m not in the mood to parent. It’s too hard when joy gets buried somewhere down below 20 extra “baby” pounds and back seasons of The X-Files.

And so instead, I reconnect with joy, pulling it out of memory like a basket of pretty costumes.  Rediscovering joy is sometimes about remembering.
After all, it hasn’t been that long since I’ve worn a boa or put a feather in my hat.
Or twirled with my daughter.

An Ode to Twirling Daughters

If I could be with anyone throughout the whole wide world, I would choose to be with you, especially when you twirl.

When you twirl your mouth turns up, your eyes get squinty bright.  The coldest heart in all the earth would deign to catch a sight.

When you twirl the earth twirls too and the moon demands an “encore!”  Then two tiny feet spin out a new song the stars haven’t heard before.

When you twirl you whirl like a dervish- strong with a gusty force.  A funnel of strength your winds will bring to all who trespass your course.

When you twirl you curl like the swirl of the dandelion floating on wind.  A daintier drifter I’ve never beheld, though gale may forcibly send.
When you twirl your partners abound, vying for one more chance
to dip you and zip you around once more in this unscripted whirling dance.

And while in sleep with round limbs still, you twirl in dreams all the same.  I know because each sunrise wakes to a bright new twirling flame.



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