There are so many ways that my children have grown me.
My son, constantly pushing me to deeper understanding by the complex questions he asks. Never is surface enough for him- he thrives in the details, the "whys", the "hows". When he laughs, I know that stars do too. Bits of the heavens break open when he smiles.
And my daughter, has grown me in her connection to the present.
To the hot passionate moment of now.
Listening to her heart beat is listening to the pulsing undercurrent of this world. That warm flow moving humanity forward until the plates of this old earth groan under the shifting weight of progress.
Long gone are the days when perfectionism ruled me. The "then" me had time to care about appearance, impressions, the surface of things. Now, I'm happy to have arrived anywhere remotely on-time, I only consider changing if I can't scratch off the dried food stain on my shirt with my chipped nails, the 4-year-old administered glitter manicure needing to be redone. I will welcome you into my home gladly - if you have a good high step to avoid toy piles and pick and roll to make it past cascading laundry baskets. And motherhood has grown me in other ways too... ways that make me uncomfortable for just how much I've "grown", ahem. But I am learning there is beauty and truth here in my mother-body:
Continue to read with me (HERE) where I was honored when Tricia at Raising Humans asked that I participate in her weekly guest series: Growing Together. Join me for the rest of the piece?