a pause on the path

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That middle of the path pause, deep breath with hands clasped by her heart, seizes my spirit each time I see it.

“Moon” is a favorite word of hers. So is “nakie”, which she just started asking for this week, and which we oblige each evening for a few minutes pre-bath. Her soft little body running wild through the house, Ivy always by her side, trying to sneak a lick of freshly exposed sweet baby skin. She squeals with delight and the pleasure of ultimate freedom, making us laugh harder when she stops at the fireplace to say “butt! hot!". We howl out the window into the dark. We marvel at the birds visiting our deck feeder. We clap for the squirrels who leap along the fence at Auntie’s house; tiny, fluff tailed acrobats performing through all seasons.

I wonder how her development will be different, growing from baby to child during this time of predominant isolation.

I wonder if she’ll have a harder time connecting with other kids, as play dates are still mostly an unknown concept (outside of the absolute blessings that are my niece and nephew). 

I wonder how my mothering would be different…better…if I were able to safely show her more of the world’s treasures; how I’d show up for her, if I still owned the ability to fill my emotional tank outside of a family pod, with time spent in the nourishing company of good friends and autonomous adventure.

I wonder how our modeling of partnership might speak more clearly to our true, shared values, without the additional stressors of all things stemming from a pandemic. How our attention, affections, appreciations would flow more freely and organically. How she would witness more thriving romance and less survival companionship.

But there is that middle of the path pause. There are the “wows” she whispers when approaching a tree. There are the toddler gifts of a leaf, a rock, or a stick, which are given with wide eyes and a smirk of pride at her discovery. 

There is the wonder and the wild we must be managing to encourage, regardless. And I’m proud of that. Even as I wonder, I am hopeful, for there is much magic yet to be revealed. It seizes my spirit each time I imagine this for her.

In Gratitude,

Trish

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