Being Slippery

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Every action of our lives touches on some chord
that will vibrate in eternity.

~ Edwin Hubbel Chapin

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No, we are not having another child.  Let's get that outta the way now.  This is the ultrasound photo from daughter of the year #2, who we called our zen baby.  It only takes her flashing this peace sign to know, she would be teaching us a thing or two.  

I have been thinking a lot this week about life.  About being flexible and embracing every moment in a way I maybe haven't been doing.  It all started with a little story about a duck.  It was innocent enough and about being flexible and going with the flow when life hands you situations that make you want to crawl in a hole.  Let's just say, all week, I've been reciting to myself, just be slippery.  Meaning, let it roll off your back.   Now, the story had another little twist in there and a bit of a slip of the tongue, but that's just a whole other story for a whole other day.  

I'm not sure I remember when I became such an uptight human being.  It's like it just happened one day and I don't know how.  Perhaps it is my occupation.  Handling tasks and deadlines - meeting them and being in control.  Who knows!  Maybe it was daughter of the year #1, who left me as a sweet, pink, little bundle of joy and one week later turned into a screaming, spit-upping, ball of fire who was so pissed at me I thought she may really be conjuring ways to smother me in my sleep.  My mother said I would eventually forget and maybe for the most part I have.  But I can still see the parts of me that are scarred from a beast called colic.  

Then came daughter of the year #2.  Quiet, peaceful, loving, and filled with joy.  I waited every day for the hammer to fall.  For the legs to coil up and the screaming to begin.  Except it never came.  She was telling me, even in the womb, "It's OK mom, you can't control it.  But I'm telling you, it will be alright."     

I think often about how different my girls are and how each of them teaches me something new every day.  Daughter of the year #1 for example, is teaching me things I learned ages ago in school and forgot.  Such as trapezoids and solids, liquids and gases.  She is smart, caring, and so much like me at that age it scares me.  She would never say an ill word about another nor cause harm to anyone in any way.  She doesn't understand mean people and she cries during the evening news with me when she hears of a hurt animal or a missing child.  Daughter of the year #2 is go-go-go.  She sucks the marrow from life and never chokes on the bone.  She is adventuresome in a way I never was.  She spins in circles until she is so dizzy she falls into the refrigerator.  Then gets up laughing and starts again.  I love her carefree way and I'd like to think she's teaching me something about remembering to enjoy life along the way.  

I am thankful every day for my girls and how unique they are in every way.  I am trying to appreciate every moment and never skip a chance to snuggle.  I'm certainly not perfect but rather that beat myself up, I'll just try to be more slippery.  Slippery like a duck.  




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