Overflow

On Saturday mornings, I wake up early because I am an insomniac, and wander to the lake with my paddleboard. There, I pump it up, feeling the burn in my triceps and the sweat prickle between my shoulder blades in the cool morning air.

The lake is usually glass at this time of day, and it’s pretty spectacular. A friend of mine meets me and we head out together for a peaceful paddle where all manner of life is discussed. It’s a time to pause and reflect, reset from the chaos of the everyday. We talk about our families, our marriages, our children. We talk about our careers, and the things that make our hearts hurt, and then we encourage each other to dream God-sized dreams, to set goals that cannot be achieved without divine intervention. And sometimes, we remind each other that miracles need to manifested in the everyday, and we need to look for them.
We paddle back to the dock after about an hour or two, and both head off to start the weekend.

My son has been saving up the past few months for a Nintendo Switch. He was at $400, so I subsidized the rest and we put the order in last week. Since then, he’s been playing Legend of Zelda (his first game a gift from me and his dad). My husband loved that game as a kid, so they’re playing it together.

As a parent, I’ve been anxious about the fact that my children are growing. It happens, as it should, but I wasn’t ready for it. My daughter is ten going on sixteen, and I have been getting moments of startling clarity that if I don’t ensure our relationship is strong right now, she will one day be lost to me.
So on Friday, I pulled her out of school to spend a day with her in the city. She doesn’t love the things I do, so dragging her out on a bike ride or a ski date with me isn’t fun for her like it is when I go with my son. Instead, I booked a “beauty consultation” at department store, and they taught her how to put on makeup and all about skin care. Then, we met my friend for lunch on a rooftop patio at a fancy hotel. Said friend is an insolvency lawyer, and partner at an international firm, and was meeting a bunch of her other powerhouse female lawyer friends for afternoon drinks afterward. We ordered cocktails (a mocktail for the kiddo), and I not-so-subtly tried to manipulate the female role models my daughter is exposed to. Then, the kiddo and I shopped for some summer clothes and found a little charm for her bracelet, which, she told me later, was a memento of our most fabulous day together. The drive to and from the city was peppered with conversation in between listening to the most interesting podcast about chickens. Yes, chickens. It was a two-parter. Anyway, as much as I’ve managed to achieve in my lifetime, this day with my daughter was one for the books, and perhaps the first time in an eon where I felt a bit like I was being a pretty okay mom.

I brought the kids to the farmer’s market today, and I bought a mug from a potter who lives in a tiny town a couple hours north. The kids chose a few art prints from a woman and my son, ever inquisitive, asked her how long it took her to do a painting. She was honest, saying that sometimes she would have to re-paint some, because they looked too sad. And sometimes, it would be okay on the first try. Most days, she said, a painting would take her four hours. My son was blown away. We bought four prints from her, and we talked about how artists maybe work extra hard because not everyone understands how much time it takes to make beautiful things.

I’m getting the Sunday sads tonight, but my cup is full to overflowing, and there is so much going on that is and will be stressful, but it’s okay. I can have my ugly cry while doing my intervals on the trainer bike because I missed my dad this morning and wished I could send him photos of how amazing his granddaughter is growing up to be. I can squeeze my kiddos and take a nap and call a friend and sit on the deck and think about all the good things to come. I can dream about the dentist bike build (blue front chainring and black pedals with blue pins? or black chainring and blue pedals? blue grips? black grips with blue collars? how much is too much???), and tomorrow will be the first Monday Night Rides of the season, and a chance to see summer friends again and push each other to ride bicycles down fun and scary things.

And so it goes, my cup still full to overflowing.