Standing at the sink this evening, with the sun coming through the window on the giant yellow platter I was washing, I had one of those moments where time just stops for a second. One of my kids has been a little sick today (just a fever, but still enough to change the day) and this is a kid who's put me through the wringer a couple of times with scary not-breathing sort of situations- her sick is scarier for me than regular sick family. I've also been fighting a bug all weekend and now we're collectively feeling a little...fragile. Fragile plays out in different ways for all of us. My daughter looks backwards for comfort in the form of more snuggling and old-school tv choices from her pre-school days. I wash dishes and try to get organized- hence the giant platter. This combination of needs led to that sunny moment with its WonderPets soundtrack and the sudden awareness that my kids aren't babies anymore. That's not exactly a shocker- they haven't been for awhile- but I think I'd been in denial about it. I'm struck now with a sudden desire to really see them for who they are right at this moment- little people who still need me but who don't need me as intensely as they used to. The growing separation between us is both a gift and a punishment. For years I've worried about missing their growing up because of my work and my re-emerging need to have some things of my own, away from them. Now I think that the worry itself was actually the culprit.
So where's the badass in this?
Badass knows that there is no guarantee of tomorrow, that this moment right now is the only thing we can count on. So we'd better enjoy here while we we're here. There's no here there.