Oh boy. No amount of Pinterest hacks, car games, or prayers can prepare you for a trip across country with two kids. Nothing can. All expectations should be thrown directly out the car window at high speeds on I-77. I had these little things planned out to help me make things easier on me, but as I predicted... hilarity. My type A personality couldn't save me this time. As the trip commenced I relied on my 7 year old to hand me things or help her brother out, but she quickly turned zombie thanks to an old cell phone I gave her. Now this thing has no service and only a handful of games, but when she whipped out the headphones all hope of reaching her became lost. My drink and snack distributor had put in her notice of resignation and I was left flailing for her attention in the front seat, but to no avail. Is this what teenagers are like? If so, I am admittedly not ready.
As predicted Gideon, the three year old, partook in his favorite pastime. Shrieking for the hell of it. His impression of what I can only assume was a singing Pterodactyl reverberated off the interior of the car in such a way that I didn't think possible. This is what migraines must sound like, I recall thinking at one point. But then the little guy would tucker himself out. Peace and quiet had never been so appreciated or so short lived. About thirty minutes later he would awake, those blue eyes would flutter open and he would proceed to scream for the Coco or Moana sound track and begin his eight part shrieking sonata all over again. On the plus side I now know every song from Coco in both English and Spanish.
Other fun things include my son running naked through the hotel room screaming "sacrifice me!", this is not explainable, really. And fun note, he calls elevators "incinerators", so I'm officially terrified of this toddler. But he also understood the hierarchy of grandparents, more specifically the grandmas. He recognized that his great grandmas were more of a grandmother than his grandma so he took to calling them "big grandma" instead of great grandma, which was adorable, so that makes up for the incinerator business.
I grew up in Ohio, I had lived there until I was eleven before moving to Florida. We were always with family, I was blessed to able to see everyone often, and to spend holidays absolutely surrounded with people, love, and tradition. I have so many fond memories from my child hood up there. While visiting with my own children I was able to see a unique perspective, one that moved me and made me realize how motherhood and age had changed me, and hadn't, all at the same time. I was getting to see my memories, the world I had lived in, and even taken for granted, through my children's eyes. And that was absolutely magical.
It was simple things that wowed them. I watched them dance through the temperate evening, barefoot in the grass, chasing lightening bugs. I remember doing this once. The Ohio grass a special kind of velvet beneath your feet, a soft surface for cartwheels and somersaults. They rolled down the backyard hills that once seemed like mountains to me and collected pine-cones in the breezy afternoon air. They got to experience basements, the best basements. The kind of basement that created the best adventures and the most exciting games of hide and seek, and at nearly thirty I can still find the best hiding places down there. This world was so magical to them and it was so beautiful to see.
As adults it is so easy to get caught up in some of the most frivolous things. We forget the magic, the everyday magic, that once existed when we were children. Life found a way of bringing me back full circle to really see that. Don't forget the magic and don't under estimate your ability in this crazy life to reconnect with it. Find that little bit of child-like wonder you've tucked away and embrace it. The adult world doesn't often recognize the power of play or encourage anything child-like. But I am urging you to find it some way, some how.
But where to start...
Be Present- Live in the moment. We often divide our time across a large field of existence, past, present, and future. We worry about that thing we said at brunch last week, that pile of laundry that stares at us from bed begging to be folded and put away, that performance review we've been dreading. But sometimes we need to stop, I mean completely stop. Watch a kid color, like really color something. They stick out their tongue, focus intently on the lines and the curves of the image. They pour their whole heart into that moment. They're not worried about their next project, or what they're having for dinner. They're just coloring. There is an art to doing just one thing at a time, something so simple, so satisfying, and so overlooked.
"Do not allow the future to trouble you mind"
Marcus Aurelius, Roman Emperor
Create Something- the act of creating something, weather it's a meal, a piece of art, or a poem unlocks a part of brain the lay dormant during our dull day to day. Creating relieves stress, exercises parts of the brain responsible for creative and critical thinking, and provides an uplifting sense of accomplishment, the "look what I did" factor. The biggest frustration with creating is we want to be perfect at everything the first time we do it. You won't be Monet the first time you pick up a paint brush, you won't be Gordon Ramsey the first time you try your hand at gourmet cooking. So just accept that, and enjoy the simple act of making something yourself without the expectations of perfection.
Find Miracles- These are all over but we tend to only look for the big ones (like my son) but truth be told they are all around us. Some mornings the fact that we wake up to the first alarm we set is a miracle, and we should really think of it that way. Waking up is a miracle. Seeing a rainbow on your way out the door, or hitting every green light on your commute are both small miracles. Recognize the magic in these little things, appreciate them for what they are. But go beyond just appreciation, be someone's little miracle. Pay for the order after you at Starbucks, slip a five into that Redbox movie you're returning, or just tell someone they have great shoes. When we spread love we create a world full of miracles, and isn't that beautiful?
"Miracles come in moments. Be ready and willing."
Wayne Dyer
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