Strong

I feel strong. It feels good. I'm able to do poses in yoga I have never been able to do before. I'm enjoying running like I never have before. But it's not just physical. I am feeling refreshed as a mom. I am feeling refreshed as a wife. As a friend. As a physical therapist. I don't know what has lead to this evolution. Maybe it's age- let me rephrase that - Maturity. Who knows. But I know I'm feeling on the edge of a change in my life. Part of this I know has to do with my "baby" turning One Year Old at the end of the month. Yes, I'm partially mourning the end of babyhood. I will miss the coos, replaced with the "no!"'s. I will miss the acceptance of anything put on her plate, replaced with "No!". I will miss the outstretched arms for "mama", replaced with "Down!". I won't see it again as a mom. And it is such a sweet, sweet time. But. Quinny turning One Year Old is also a big transition for me. It means new fun phases to experience with her. In a completely different way then they were experienced with Piper. Partially because my vision is colored with "savor this time, it's the last 1st birthday you'll ever host". And partly because they are such completely different people. And, it means a new kind of freedom. Freedom from the intense worry you feel with such a little helpless peanut who is sick and can't tell you what's wrong. Freedom from regular night wakings. Freedom from a two-nap-a-day schedule. Freedom from teething. Breast feeding. Bottles. And a return to self. I am a stronger self. One fuller of spirit. A mom of two beautiful girls, but also, just me. A renewal of my identity apart from a mom. Of course, being a mom is still my primary role and identity (won't it always be?). But I feel a strengthening of that branch of my self that is just me. Just Mia. Not mama mia, not wife mia, just me-mia. There will be more time for me in days to come. There will be more reading for pleasure, less reading for parenting advice. There will be more time away without kids. I will always cherish these first 3 1/2 years of motherhood. None could have been sweeter. And there's a small part of me that doesn't want to move on. But there is a bigger part that knows there are even better moments (could it be possible?) ahead. In theory, I know nothing could be more rewarding than watching your kindergartner take the first step towards her new classroom, full of excitement and joy - and maybe a little fear, but knowing she'll be ok. Knowing, I've done all I can up to this point to help her become this individual little person. Or watching your daughter accept her first degree. Or have a little one of her own and watching her become the mommy you always strived to be to your own children. This part of me that knows this is strong. Chin up. Shoulders back. Onward. Strong.

Dancing Queen

Piper had her first dance class on Thursday. I don't know who was more excited, her or me? I spent the hour (free of obligations to my children or anyone else) glued to the glass window spying on her. Every time she'd look my way I had on a big goofy smile and did the "mom wave". Come on, you all know the "mom wave." Yes you do. It's that full arm- tear my shoulder out of the socket-wave, just in case you might miss me in my bright pink ski suit standing alone on the deck of the ski lodge-wave. And she, just as I did when I saw that wave, glanced away like she saw nothing and carried on. Dancing. It was everything I wanted it to be for her first class. You may wonder why it was such a big deal to me. I guess I am too. I think it's because it's the first of her, hopefully many, steps into independence. A step into defining who she is. Dance class is not something I pulled out of the air for her to try. The girl LOVES to dance. She positions herself in the middle of the living room floor, puts on her ballerina face - which is oh-so-serious - and with full concentration performs the moves that she believes make up the grace of a Ballerina. Now, at 3 years old, not really the picture of grace. But definitely the picture of a Vivid imagination. She is seeing herself as she saw those "real ballerinas" on stage at the Nutcracker. Tall, lithe, graceful, princess-like and on stage. At one point during the class each of the three little girls got to do a solo number with a scarf. I was so proud of her. She went first and just followed her instinct, just like she was in her own living room. In her own world. A beautiful ballerina. No reservations. No hesitation. That, I think, is pretty impressive for a 3-year-old's first class!
Now, don't worry. I vow not to be that mom. If the novelty and fun of dance wear off for her, I will just be happy for the joy it gave her at the time and move on with her. I know this enjoyment may last for three classes or less! And I vow to enjoy each moment of it with her and not take for granted that she has found something that, at least for the moment, brings her dreams to life - even if just a little bit.
But for now - it just makes me smile. Seeing her come to life like that. It's a little peek at what it's like to see your child become an individual. To see Piper define who Piper is. Not because it's what I say she is or because it's what her friends are, but because it's what she wants for herself. What more can a mother ask for her child? And don't worry - I'll have front row tickets for all you tutu givers when she's on a real stage.