Friday, May 28, 2010
The More Things Change...
The more they stay the same.
Two weeks ago the weather shifted. I went from searching for new ways to wear my long-sleeved shirts to digging out my capris and sandals. The seedlings I started indoors were ready to sit outside during the day. Bubba and I pulled the deck furniture out and we started a new family tradition of playing catch in the front yard after dinner. Even though it was only mid-May, the string of sunny, warm days and watching my seedlings thrive and stretch in the sunlight convinced me that this was it - warm weather was here to stay.
Five days ago the most recent weather front moved in and we returned to cold, rainy, grey days. Instead of pawing at the door to get out and roll in the warm grass, the dog now dashes out, pees with supersonic speed and races back to the dry safety of his bed. The hammock Lola dragged into the backyard to read in last week sits soaking wet and the gutters are constantly gurgling. Funny, but the longer the rain stretches in to the forecast, the more I realize that, with as much certainty that I had that the warm weather was here to stay, now I'm certain that we are in for weeks of soaking rains.
Why is it that, despite all of my experiences to the contrary, whenever life's circumstances change, I become convinced that this is just the way things will be from now on? Even though I know that change is inevitable and nothing can be static for long, there is something inside me that knows for sure that this time, this shift has put us in to a mode that will be much harder to change.
I do the same with mothering. When Eve began rolling her eyes at me and dismissing my opinions, it became a harbinger of doom. Surely, now, she has moved into that realm of teenagehood where she will want to spend less and less time with me and criticize my every thought and action.
It takes energy to remind myself that I need not make this a self-fulfilling prophecy. If I respond to her and Lola as if their current attitudes are not simply passing phases, I risk cementing them or, at the very least, prolonging them. Instead, I need to remain confident that this too shall pass and I must simply find the joy and peace in these moments while they are here.
Today, instead of gardening like I had planned to, I think I'll take advantage of the rain and clean out the refrigerator and settle in with a good book to read. When the sun comes back, I'll tuck my seedlings into the warm earth with the knowledge that the rain will return to nourish them from time to time and all is well.