small

Yesterday I walked under the Narrows Bridge for the first time.  I stood on the beach looking up at the two massive metal stuctures and I very much felt my true and actual size.

I am small.

I pretend not to be.  I try to make myself big.  I raise my voice loud to be heard; to seem big and in charge and in control.  I talk too much and too loud.  I wear clothes to be noticed.  I'm big and important in my mind... because I'm the only one there.

I realized I usually experience the bridge from a different perspective; up above.  I drive across it, almost daily, in my very large Suburban.  I look down on the world below and I feel big and untouchable.  But when I give up the big car and change my perspective and get into the low position I see how very small I am.  Towering cliffs and heavy trees and deep waters and giant bridges surround me.  And I am nothing and nothing makes me big and it feels right.

Hugs are not just for 'Goodnight'

Tonight when I gave my daughter a hug goodnight, I realized it was one of 2 times I had given her a hug all day long.  The other time was when she woke up... at least I think I gave her a hug when she woke up.  There was a twinge of pain in my heart.

Then I flashed to how many times my hands had touched a dish to wash or a rag to clean something today.  Too many times to count.  It's just sad.

My kids are 4,7, and almost 10.  4,7, and almost 10 happened over night.  And in 10 years they will be 14,17, and almost 20, and I'm guessing it will happen over night.  So I won't browse Pinterest or Houzz or any other thing to make my home pretty or cute.  I'll choose to leave dishes in the sink and dried milk stuck to the table.  I'll feel glad when my girls fight about who gets to sit next to me at the table.  Because pretty soon I'll be the one following my kids around wishing they had enough time for me.

Because hugs are not just for 'Goodnight'.  They are for all day long and they're more important than a tidy house.



P.S. I'm pretty sure I've written a dozen blogs with this same message.  I guess this is one of those lessons I have to learn over and over.