I mostly spend each day living in brief gulps from one moment to the next. In between tickle fights and time outs, I also sweat it out each day on the tightrope that is PPD and all its repercussions in my family, my health, my marriage and my sense of humor. Some days are good, some days only wish they could aspire to the high ranks of pond scum, but it's all part of my life. And it's all worth it.
Santa is coming
I believe in magic.
I believe the world is more than simply a sum of its parts, that those things unseen are just as possible as what can be held and quantified. I believe in the spirit of bedtime stories, myths and legends. I believe the core of all we dream goes back to some things just as real as they are unknown.
I believe in the wonderful awe of my children as they impatiently wait for a holiday of marvel and enchantment: from the birth of a special child lit by the glow of an impossible star to, against all hope, eight days and nights of blessed light.
I believe that the lights on a tree can freeze time in the embrace of one perfect moment and in a fabled old man bringing gifts to all the children of the world as they sleep. I spent my youth in Narnia talking with trees and dancing with water sprites. I searched, ever hopeful, for doors that opened onto brighter things than dusty boxes and old coats. Every time I closed my eyes I knew, with unshakable faith, that when I opened them the world would be full of wonders untold, waiting to be discovered. I see that same brightness in my children’s eyes now.
My belief is like the flexing of a muscle rarely used in daily life. But I exercise it, regardless, so that it will be strong when its time comes. The older I get, the more I have to concentrate, to focus and lose focus at the same time in order to find the right place deep inside of me. I do this for my own children, for the future and all it could be if given a chance and a leap of faith… with all my hope, I believe.
