One Step up, Two Looks Back

One step up, two Looks Back. That's my mantra right now as I struggle along this climb.

You can’t really tell how steep this part of my walk is. It’s pretty deceiving on the way down. Doesn’t feel like much of a workout. Seems like a lazy stroll. It’s the way back that proves its steepness. I walk this evening with my heart in a tizzy. Cardio is certainly at work in my chest, even if I am only on the strolling part of this journey. So many beats of low melancholy, with tumultuous thrums filling the in-between. I crave the exertion of that uphill stride, only to distract from it all. To feel my muscle, hear my labored breathing would relieve my racing thoughts. 

After sixteen years of motherhood, I didn’t realize that the stroll would be somewhere in the past days of diapers and breastfeeding babes. I stood at the very top of the incline, worrying about the steep, and the tumble that could come if my sleep deprived self messed up the nap schedule, or fed solids too soon. But, it was all a pleasant stroll...an instinctual drive to meet the needs of my children. But now? Somewhere at that twelve year bend, i have been struggling with the climb. I’ve faced those baby years in pictures and nicknacks and I pass them by with a worrisome step. Are the unsavored moments taunting, “you miss us now, don’t you”?

I know there are those who scoot their children up and out with joy. But is that joy interlaced with doubt and sorrow at all? I will admit that I sweat the stuff. My brow is covered with swirling beads of warring emotions like the oily marbles I played with as a child. It’s joy, regret, sorrow, pride, and so much love I could burst. I huff and wonder if my pace will ever be steady again—when car keys are handed over, and curfews are challenged—when broad shoulders fill the door, and I wrestle with swollen pride and choking tears. 

Too much—this parenting climb. Too difficult for a mama’s heart to bear when she once took for granted the pudgy fingers and cheeky smiles. 

The curve of the crest is ahead, and I try to slow down, breathing in and out to find some calm amidst the mama-storm. I try wiping away sad to marvel at the joy. 

One step up, and two looks back.