The marathon.......

"The mountains are calling and I must go" John Muir 

He's always understood me. 

Today in the middle of my preparation for our weekend camping trip in the redwoods I smelled something funny. 

Like old moldy smelly funny. 

I had just cleaned the house so I was slightly baffled. 

As I went room to room I bumped into something at my feet, I looked down and found the smell.

It was my baby. 

He looked homeless and if I wasn't his mother I might wonder if he had one. 

As I guiltily filled up the tub and kissed his nasty face I thought of Nashville. 

Last spring during my trip down there I had the best girls night out of my life. Katie, Brit and I had intimate seats at an amazing musical performance at the Bluebird cafe. After being fully entranced by the music and the insane talent and passion in that room, a discussion arose about said passion and the lack of it in our own lives. 

We concluded that life doesn't have to be all passion to have passion in it. Surely we could find moments during the day in which we could do our job as passionately as those artists. 

As a reminder of our quest we each have a token, though mine often just reminds me of how absolutely deep in my heart these girls are. 

I have thought a lot about this. Moments of passion. The job of being a Mother produces some interesting challenges. Motherhood is a marathon. It's not feasible to sprint all the time. Small bursts of speed along with hours of plodding. 

I have been determined to find daily inspiration in a job that can be deemed mundane and uninspiring. It is my art at the moment. Something I am creating. I'll be darned if I can't throw some passion into it. Somewhere. 

Here is a little secret about my determination.  Yesterday I had to stop at   Ben's office to drop off his lunch. I had just come from the gym so I snuck into the break room to put it in the fridge. On the table sat a box of gorgeous donuts. See above note about just coming from the gym. I was full of vigor and determination to lose the baby weight, I valiantly shunned the donuts and walked out. Only to come home and eat my weight in stale graham crackers because I couldn't stop thinking about those darn donuts. 

My determination comes in waves. 

So does passion. 

One soul lifting song on that acoustic guitar was only two minutes at a time. 

I can do two minutes. 

So I gave my baby the best bath of his entire life until he forgot about his previous filthiness and his lame mother and I even threw Grace in there for good measure. Then I passionately sang to them and rubbed them dry and read them a book and looked in their eyes and smiled at them. A real smile. 

A I notice you and I choose to be here smile. 

I sprinted and was fully present. 

Because I know tonight I am going to pretend not to notice them when I am making dinner and they are arguing and causing problems. Because I will be plodding and just getting through. 

And that's ok. 

Because tomorrow I will find another
something to throw my passion into. 

And watch out kids it may be dinner prep discipline.