Today

Today I think of mothers. My own, my husband's- may she rest in peace.

I think of my children's First mother, of their first grandmothers and aunties.

I think of mothers-in-waiting, expectant mothers, hopeful mothers, women who long to be mothers...

Fathers who act as mothers, grandmothers, aunties, god-mothers...

Mothers by bedsides, mothers in waiting rooms, mothers who have only photographs and memories to hold...

Mothers remembered, mothers unknown, mothers forgotten...

to all, a beautiful and peaceful day.

Under the banana trees...

Sometimes when I'm feeling a bit too wild-eyed, I imagine our son as a the adorable toddler he must have been, playing under the banana trees outside his home in Ethiopia, and I start to feel calmer.  His life was so simple then: eat, play, hide in the shade under the banana trees, find mama when you are hungry or tired or thirsty, play some more.

We are not living in simple times now, not at all. We are walking through what us adoptive families call "traumaversary" season. This month marks 3 years since Daniel and Lily's simple life in Ethiopia was tragically ended. Soon it will be July, which will mark 2 years since their life in America began. Those two big events don't go un-noticed around here.  We've got lots more tantrums, lots more non-compliance, lots more grumpiness.  If only children grieved logically. If only he could say, "I'm sad because 3 years ago my mom died."  But it doesn't work that way.  Instead it's "You are so mean! You NEVER let me... (wear shoes 3 sizes too big, play on the i-pad for 2 hours, watch R-rated movies or other completely irrational things) It's been a bit of a challenge to keep my cool and remember that what he's really saying with this annoying, difficult behavior is "I'm sad."

This morning I found myself ranting out loud to nobody, "Don't these children know it's Mother's Day!?!"

Plus we are moving.

Plus the school year is ending. And because this school year has been so long and so challenging*, everyone is ready for the end. Which means we're all acting like it's June. Which is BAD.  I really dislike June. It is the hot, sticky, sweaty, exhausting, dirty, dusty, can't possibly-end-soon-enough month. It's the wine for dinner, ice cream for lunch, iced coffee 5 times a day month.

* I was wondering why!? this year has felt so long, and then I remembered: hurricane, school shooting, flu upon flu upon flu, bombings, building collapses (in many of) our students' home country. It's been a long year.

So last night, after a long tantrum involving shoes, I crawled into bed beside our son and we talked about the banana trees for a while. And we felt a bit better.

Seriously! Is it summer yet!?

used to...

My school has a new health initiative in which we learn and practice an "Exercise of the Week."  Last week was Warrior 1 Pose.  For non-yogis, that's this:

As I stretched my hands up over my head I thought, wow, this feels great! And that's when I decided to go back to yoga.

I used to do yoga a lot. "Used to" is a phrase I say often.  I hear lots of mothers of young children saying it. As in," I used to go to the bathroom by myself. I used to sleep past 6:00AM on Sunday morning. I used to not be quite so cranky and irritable all the time."

Or maybe that last one is just me.  Having toddler is stressful. They are adorable, but let's not kid ourselves, it's like living with a ____________ (use your own analogy. Mine are all very un-PC.)  Who else screams bloody murder because You picked out the wrong shoes!, or I don't want to take a bath! or Daniel took a bite of my sandwich! that she wasn't even eating!   (I use the phrase, "Use your big girl words" quite a lot these days.)

I love the feeling that I get from yoga. That inside-out clean feeling. That "I can do ANYTHING" feeling of physical accomplishment. That good exhausted feeling.  So, I went back to yoga last night and it was great! How ironic though, that I finally start going to yoga again at the very conveniently located neighborhood studio the week we decide to move. Ah, well.

I'm hoping that stretching my arms up over my head once a week will help me get through this final toddler year, the move, the end of the school year...

And, I don't have to say "used to" quite so much.