March 23rd, 2019

This is parenting pride. 
This right here.

Currently, Seth and I are in those more merciful years of parenting that fall between toddler and teenager. I don't mean to make that sound too simple because it's not – there are diagnoses, and stitches, and hurt feelings, and heavy decisions. While we didn't expect a one of those things to reveal the scaredy-cats that we are regarding our children, we are, after all these years, finally emerging bolder. 
And this is parenting pride. 
This growing confidence is a celebration.
The true gift of parenting, I am realizing, is not when things get easier (although they do) but the true gift of parenting happens when I'm fully present enough to notice the miracles when they present themselves. 
Like last night. 
When everything was right in its place.
At Sylas's baseball game the smell of something sweet floated on the breeze and the sky looked like cotton candy. I looked to my left and to my right and I noticed that my family takes up one bleacher exactly. A bleacher is eight butts long as it turns out. I dug around for something someone else's kid needed and realized that my purse smells exactly like my mom's purse smelled when I was a kid – a stale combination of make up and gum. Amelia braided Wren's hair. And Blaise played with the neighbor's baby yellow lab.
The gift of parenting (feeling present enough to notice all the miracles) feels a little easier to celebrate these days. Frankly, I just think we've gotten more sleep. 
The past nor the future really belongs to us. But the present does. It is fleeting... but it is all we really have. So I've been more wide eyed lately, taking deep breaths, permitting my heart to expand and celebrating new found confidence, emerging boldness. 
This is parenting pride. 
I'm proud of all of us.