An hour ago, I jogged home after a really hard but really pleasant Yoga class. It was sunny and the snow-covered mountains looked so crisp and lovely (in stark contrast to the smog that has been almost obscuring them lately). I felt in tune with my body and with the earth. I felt peace and joy.
As I neared my house, I thought "I guess the weather forecast was wrong. They said 80% chance of snow but it sure doesn't look like it could possibly snow today."
Five minutes ago, I noticed a couple of flakes flitting about outside my window and thought, "hey, maybe there will be a little snow today."
And now it looks like this:
This photo can't capture the swirling, fast-falling, thick flakes. It's a gorgeous snowstorm. And it materialized in about 5 minutes. Wow.
Isn't motherhood like this a lot? One minute, you think you're feeling pretty darn good about yourself. You've finished quite a few things on your "to do" list. Your darling children are playing nicely. You're living your dream.
Then, quite suddenly, things can change. One child needs something, then another, then another - and all their needs seem so urgent and mutually exclusive and then on top of that the phone is ringing and you haven't started dinner yet and you just remembered you're supposed to be somewhere 5 minutes ago... Your blue skies have been replaced by a snow storm, right before your eyes.
Maybe the trick is to see the beauty in the storm.
Isn't it the swirling movement of motherhood quite beautiful, even when it gets thick? Isn't it great to be so needed and so wanted? Isn't it wonderful that your life is full and rich and full of surprises and learning opportunities?
And maybe the other trick is to accept that no clear sky or storm lasts forever.
Once we accept that motherhood is all about change and acceptance and finding the beauty and learning in the hard stuff, things seem a lot better.
So when little kids get home from school in a few minutes, I know there will be a bit of a snowstorm going on in this house. Everyone will want to tell me something at the same time and the older kids will call and try to talk me into coming to pick them up from school while the younger kids need my attention (I'm going to cheerfully remind the big boys how close we live and how fun it is to walk in this lovely snow that isn't even settling on the sidewalks at all) and my currently very sunny disposition might get a bit rattled. But I'm expecting the craziness. I'll embrace it. And the storm will be beautiful in its own way.