Childhoodtake2!

For both of you, it started about six or so weeks into your life. You were both laying down, and out of nowhere, this amazing precious smile came across your face and once again, you lit up our lives. Anna, you on our bed at home and Cole, you were in my office. You both looked up, eye to eye, and you smiled. Anna, dad got tears in his eyes. His little girl saw him, really saw him and melted. His little sweets knew it was her dad and she couldn't help but smile at his loving face. Dad called for me, Brin...she's smiling, oh my god, she just smiled at me! Cole, for you, it was just us two. You and me kiddo. I immediately took a picture and sent it to dad, who called me, and again, catching his breath, he smiled! That's really a smile!

That's what kids do to us parents. They just smile and we melt into them, into who they are, who they were, who they are going to be. We see it all right there, in that little smile.

To this day, it happens to both of us. Just the other night dad remarked at how gorgeous of a smile you guys had, how loving your smiles are. Anna, how when you really get laughing, that belly laugh, a real laugh, damn, it rocks me to my toes. Cole, even from across the way, your smile pierces right to my heart. It grabs my attention, and there are times, it brings actual tears to my eyes.

I see it when we are in really crowded areas at school, during some sort of performance. Anna, you search and look and make sure you can find us. And when you do, there's that smile. The one that says you've found us, you see who you were determined to make out. Your whole face lights up and you beam. You can see the pride and excitement in my face too and you can sense just how much we adore you. This moment, it's held in time a little bit, because that smile is just for us.

Cole, there are times you will be in the middle of a game, in the middle of something make-believe or in the middle of a ball game in which you're actually playing. And for a second, you'll look up, eye to eye, and there is a smile that spreads. Not one of recognition as much as one of love. You start to smile from your heart and the love you carry it bursts out of you, you just can't help it. This moment, it's held in time a little bit, because that smile is just for us.

Dad says you both carry my smile, but all I see is dad's. It's his smile that I first noticed, it's his smile that made me want to follow him around. It's his smile that made me fall, it's his smile that made me feel like I had found family. The smile that bursts hearts open. The smile that makes even strangers fall in love. The smile that makes you trust that you are good people. The smile that makes you realize this person's heart is alive and well. This person's heart is for real. They can't even pretend, just look at that smile that radiates actual light.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on distant.

Go.

Hello my dear old friend, my go-to, my pull that I work on pushing away. Hello to one of my many coping mechanisms, the ones that serve me well and poorly, all at the same time.

Hello to the thing that hurts me most about myself, the thing I learned to take away most from them. The thing that confuses me most about adulthood. Am I being healthy by creating distance, am I being same old me that just walks away? Is it a good idea, when is it a good idea? What would make my kids cringe when they are older, what will they understand and be proud of my boundaries? Do I have boundaries or do I have old unhealthy patterns?

Hello to yet one more pattern I worry about. Hello to what I know too much about. Hello silent treatment, hello distance, hello confusion, hello my dear old friend.

Hello to the constant nagging of "here we go again" and the "no, you need to walk away because you just feel so bad around them". Hello to the constant nagging of "why do you always go this route" and "when are you going to stop letting them in?" Hello to the constant nagging of "you take after them" and "you can't allow this negativity in anymore". Hello to being split and not knowing what is right, what is ethical, what to do.

And I watch others weave and go through life. Not having this weird part of them. Knowing when to walk away with health and courage, knowing what is worth fighting for. Knowing when to not look desperate and knowing when to not be too proud.

But me, I carry an old dear friend on my shoulders. I carry distance and being distant and anger and resentment and old ways and old ties and writing people off and just walking away. Hello dear sweet old friend...hello my dear.

Stop.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on take.

Go.

As a parent, sometimes it feels that all we do is give give give to little takers. Little faces that say, can I have, can you give me, can you get me, can you do this, can you carry that, can you drive me, can I go to, can I do this, can you bring me, can you make this happen, will be you there, can you read to me, what's for dinner, can I have dessert, can you get carry me?

Can you and will you to little takers. And we give and give and give and teach and teach and teach and at the end of each day, we wonder why our bones are tired. We wonder why we feel so empty. We wonder why our minds can't shut off and we wonder why we are so foggy.

It all starts at birth, however you birthed a person. Whether that was in a hospital, clinic, home, court room, it all starts with giving up of yourself to make room for a new one to enter your soul. You take over our hearts, our bodies, our being. You start on the inside and it pours out into the outer limits of our fingers and toes. You hold on to our hands and take our love, our devotion, or attention, and at times, our actual mind.

You, you're not to blame. You didn't ask to be here, we asked for you to find us. And part of the exhausting task of this exhausting part of parenting is teaching you to do for yourself. It is teaching you to get your own thing, to contribute to the family, to do it on your own little by little, part by part.

But in the meantime, yes, I can help you reach that snack. Yes, I can pour you something to drink. Yes, I can help you make your bed. Yes, I can take you to see your friend. Yes lovies, I can help. You can take and I will give because in the end, although I am empty, there is a fullness to my world, my heart that you give that replenishes my love, my ability and me. You give too.

Stop.