the mothering arts

The in-between…

In the what we are, and the what we will be, there is a space between…

The other night I was right tangled, caught upon problems beyond my control. My beloved brought the tea, and Lorelei-girl the knitting, and so, I sat and knit as the dinner time, bed time, twister turn of spilled drink dropped crumbs rocketed its way to splash a bath and tuck a bed marathon, finish well, one more book, I want a drink…and finally, (relative) quiet.

It was decidedly out of character for me to do such a thing, to sit still while the family spun by in its characteristic swirl of many kids in small space, loud and happy and well, perhaps, pushing Daddy’s buttons a bit far…I am usually here and there about the end of day routine, or (far worse) stuck working, head in a spreadsheet, trying to concentrate. (And ever bothered by the fact that they were living and I was working and I’ve never liked that feeling…of missing out…even if it was just the ragged frustration of a bedtime hour gone all froggy.)

I sat there, click, knit, click, Elliana babbling beside me, grabbing at the yarn, ever so tantalizing out of reach, listening and smiling and having many an imaginary conversation with her- “did he really say that? can you imagine? do you like the green?” Click, knit, click. Every so often, a long pause in the flow of words and clicking as I sipped long on the tea, and usually a sudden yelp, as Elliana would have just gotten close enough to grab hold the yarn while I was distracted….on our little dance went until daddy came to take her to bed.

And by the time my Beloved himself appeared, a bit bedraggled around the edges, one corner of the shirt untucked, something sticking in his hair (for whomever is putting the kids to bed, we almost always look a bit…undone…afterwards), I was more myself. The problem was still right tangled, but I no longer was. I laughed at myself a bit, that my family knew me better than I knew myself- or perhaps it was that I was not allowing myself the space, and they knew to force it upon me. And I smiled to know that I was finally learning to let go.

I find myself in a transitional space of time, and all that has gone before, all my immaturity, mocking me, challenging me to not get better, to not grow, to not change, to settle for nothing and want for everything, to revert to the ways that bring no joy and no peace…and it is an in between time…a choice to make…a path to follow…and maybe, for right now- I just need to knit. And pray. And sip long on peace.


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