Finding My Inner Mama

A while back, I read this collection of essays, in which writers of various faith traditions and practices reflect on the spiritual journey of motherhood. I was reminded of it this week, as I try to hold things together at home while Will is out of town on business. I don't mean to complain. Being the only parent requires a certain vigor and intensity, with a vague sense of isolation, and in some ways it does feel like a week long monastic retreat. There have been moments when the kids taught me little lessons. There have been moments when I needed to summon all the inner calm I could muster. As the resident three-year-old, Timothy is my most demanding teacher.

Last night, I had a list of errands that had to be done. I explained to the kids, in the car, that I was counting on their cooperation and was feeling stressed out. Timothy went all Buddha on me. "Actuawwy Mama, you have pwenty of time." I thought, you know - you're right, I need to chill.

Of course these sage insights come and go. As do tantrums and outbursts. Tonight, TJ could be heard throughout the neighborhood, howling "I don't want any consequence!! I don't want any consequence!!" Meanwhile I'm practicing the art of detachment...and stifling a laugh and thinking to myself, wow, his vocabulary is impressive. He is so easy to forgive, and easy to spoil, because he's so mercurial. And he's too cute to be taken seriously.

Except when he's teaching my Inner Mama a lesson.