Atheist parenting
I invite you to share in the song I am sort of wrapped up in this evening. To hear it you have to go to Spotify and search for Eddi Reader and find her song called I Won't Stand in Your Way. The kids won't listen to it with me anymore, (No, Mom, I don't want to hear it again!) so I hope you will give it a listen. Share the feels that it gives me...
Eddi Reader is a Scottish folk singer, songwriter that I initially discovered by listening to her on a TEDtalk. The first song I heard by her was Kiteflyer's Hill. I love many of her ballads. Maybe try It's Magic or Moon River or Vagabond or My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose. She sings many beautiful ballads but she is probably better known for her auld Celtic Scottish up-tempo folk dance tunes.
The tune that is really getting to me is called I Won't Stand in Your Way and is about those moments in a mother's life where her tiny child moves further and further away from her. When that child stands for the first time and walks away and, finally, when that child goes out into the white lights of the night, lights that they are longing for.
They do, though it's a cliche' and trite to say so, grow too fast. They do, so I find myself forcing my thoughts away from that fact... I stop from saying Do you still play with this? Can we put it away now? I avoid looking in the toy box in John's room so that I don't see those things that are chunky toys for younger boys or superhero costume pieces. I can't bear to see those tiny capes and masks, arm bands, head bands, accessories... long ago tossed into the box.
I no longer think I can't wait for some upcoming day. I no longer shop in the kids' sections of Target. I no longer know when my car will be available. I no longer know where my daughter is at all times. I see my son's arms draped over a girl's shoulders. I no longer expect all shoes and coats to be put away right away because I know that, one day super soon, I will have no coats sprawled over the back of the couch and no shoes crowding around the front door. No board games stacked in their boxes on the fireplace. No juice boxes in the refrigerator. No nail polish on the sink. No giggling on the phone. No texters at the table. No surprise overnight guests.
I don't get annoyed to have to reset my car seat and radio station and mirror. I am okay with toothpaste in the kids' bathroom sink. It does not bother me to have homework all over the floors. I don't mind the restricted diets or food obsessions. I don't mind the unfinished projects in the living room or the Korean dramas playing on the tv. Because I know.
I long for Legos on the floor, Polly Pocket shoes in the vacuum, Radio Disney, tiny clothing in the laundry, kid-focused meals, reading on the couch, baby pools in the yard, song shows, stick figure drawings, cape wearing, car seats, pediatrician visits, visitors in the night needing kisses or laughs or company, snow cones, long gazes of utter amazement at their beauty...
I do what I can to know their music, friends, movies, hobbies, interests these days. I look at and listen to them, wishing that my eyes were cameras. For one day very soon their kites will fly, they will drop my hand, they will go out, the door will close behind them with a loud boom. They will head off to their new closets, new bedrooms, new sinks, chairs, and homes... and mine will all be clean and vexatiously tidy...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Other Posts You Might Enjoy:
24 Hours of my Daughter's Life
I Trusted my Gut
With a Nod to Harry Chapin
Shooshy: Raising My Daughter
Her Face
My Son's Face
Eddi Reader is a Scottish folk singer, songwriter that I initially discovered by listening to her on a TEDtalk. The first song I heard by her was Kiteflyer's Hill. I love many of her ballads. Maybe try It's Magic or Moon River or Vagabond or My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose. She sings many beautiful ballads but she is probably better known for her auld Celtic Scottish up-tempo folk dance tunes.
The tune that is really getting to me is called I Won't Stand in Your Way and is about those moments in a mother's life where her tiny child moves further and further away from her. When that child stands for the first time and walks away and, finally, when that child goes out into the white lights of the night, lights that they are longing for.
I long for Legos on the floor, Polly Pocket shoes in the vacuum, Radio Disney, tiny clothing in the laundry, kid-focused meals, reading on the couch, baby pools in the yard, song shows, stick figure drawings, cape wearing, car seats, pediatrician visits, visitors in the night needing kisses or laughs or company, snow cones, long gazes of utter amazement at their beauty...
I do what I can to know their music, friends, movies, hobbies, interests these days. I look at and listen to them, wishing that my eyes were cameras. For one day very soon their kites will fly, they will drop my hand, they will go out, the door will close behind them with a loud boom. They will head off to their new closets, new bedrooms, new sinks, chairs, and homes... and mine will all be clean and vexatiously tidy...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Other Posts You Might Enjoy:
24 Hours of my Daughter's Life
I Trusted my Gut
With a Nod to Harry Chapin
Shooshy: Raising My Daughter
Her Face
My Son's Face
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