The Pain and Pleasure of Expansion and Contraction

A long time ago, when I had many kids under the age of eight, there was no particular pattern.  Each day there was an equal possibility that one would need a spontaneous nap, trip to the pediatrician, or new shoes.  All time was essentially spent executing a day that included equal amounts of activity, food, diversions and negotiations, with four boys that each had their own agendas.  In fact, there was a moment in time when life was so busy that one of my friends, Kathleen, suggested we should all be keeping a running list of things to do when we finally had time free from what we then considered a form of bondage.   I was sure at that moment I would never need such a list.  As soon as these boys were on their way, I would remember exactly what it is I wanted to do.   All I had to do was look around.  There were free people everywhere! —Going to work! Reading their own books! Showering alone! Sleeping late!   They even had room in their shopping carts for food, instead of kids balanced inside and out.  Imagine.  

Well, freedom has arrived.  Now, moments have been replaced with expanses of time that feel unfamiliar.   But how ironic!  Thinking back, it was equally unfamiliar when I was suddenly including children in activities that were previously spent alone.   Along the way, however, and unnoticed by its insidiousness, my children inextricably became part of “it” all.  Now, my grocery cart only has food in it.  No kids, no complaining, no tipping, no arguing, no excitement.  The empty cart, in retrospect, makes me realize it was sort of interesting winning those tactical psychological battles without bribery; to have to rush through shopping without considering the many options for dinner; to feel that powerful feeling after cooking dinner with a baby on my back and one at my feet.  Gradually and suddenly, I am nostalgic for that moment by moment –my existence totally matters- feeling.  Now, instead, when dinner is done, the kids go up and do their homework.  And there I am in the kitchen—in this new “space”- pondering what this extra time should be used for.  What was on that list?  The sudden choice brings with it the responsibility to make the time count. The instinct to remain engaged at that super charged level consumes me; seeking to make existence matter in the way it did while washing their hair without getting soap in their eyes.  Freedom, it turns out, is a very weighty issue.