Saturday, March 14, 2015

Cages.

I was reading a sweet little fictional book to my toddler.

It was about a mole who found a baby bird who had lost its mother.  
So he fed that sweet little bird and took care of her and gave her everything 
she would need to survive.  But then one day, she showed strength 
enough to fly.  She fluttered her little wings and was ready to take off in the wild wind.  
And that little mole was so fearful.  So, he built a cage and kept her in it....
to keep her safe....to keep her with him.  And she was so sad.  
He soon realized that keeping her caged was the wrong solution, 
and he eventually let her free.  
And off she flew.  
And they were both happy.

It is a darling story.

And as I read it, I recalled a saying I have had on my fridge for several years, "Let's watch til they're ready and then we'll teach them to fly."

And then it made me really ponder.

Fear does a lot of things.

But one thing it really does is

C
A
G
E

us
from
mov
ing
for
war
d.

And it made me really think about me. And my kids.  And my husband.

How am I letting fear get in the way?

Do I sometimes hold on too tight when I'm afraid they might fall?
Do I  hover?
Do I protect them from making mistakes?
Am I afraid to fail?

And the answer to all of those is
Yes.
At least sometimes.

And I realized as I read this sweet little children's story, how easy it is to quickly build "cages" to protect those we love in order to keep them safe.  And that cage can be the very thing that is holding us back from happiness.  And growth.  And discovery.

It's taking that leap and letting the wild wind lift us.  That's where real things happen.

So it's time to open the door.  And use my wings.

And show my kids how to fly.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Dear Repeat Button

Dear Repeat Button,

Yes. You.  You know who you are.  You are stuck or something.

Because I'm on repeat.  Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

See?

For example.  Let's take yesterday.  I vacuumed floors.

Today.  I vacuumed floors.

Yesterday: I washed Elsa's nightgown.

Today: I washed Elsa's nightgown.

Yesterday:  I read Goodnight Moon.

Today:  I read Goodnight Moon.

Yesterday:  I wiped toilets.

Today: I wiped toilets.

Are you seeing the pattern here?  My days are on repeat.

But somehow, I'm just fine with all that repeating.  Because it means I get to kiss the folds of little necks.  Every single day.  And it means I get to yell out, "Have fun at school today!" as I watch little bodies step out the door to find themselves.  Every single day.  And it means I get to recite Goodnight Moon for the thousandth time.  And it means that I get to listen to giggles behind closed doors.  Every single day.

What's going to happen when you're not stuck on repeat anymore?  I'm a bit concerned.  What will I do when I'm not completing the same Frozen puzzle that I completed yesterday and the day before and the day before that?  Whose lunches will I pack?  Who will I put princess dresses on?  Whose shoes will I pick up?

So.  Go ahead and stay on repeat.

That's all.

Stay stuck for now,

Jamie