‘When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.’ – Lao Tsu, Tao Te Ching
I have a cat on my lap, purring and pleased that I’m wearing flannel pajama bottoms. He’s happy as long as I give him enough room to snooze and swat his tail at the occasional idea that falls from the table.
Today I’ll be cleaning up and preparing a lot of baby toys/clothes/equipment to sell and pass on to other people who need them now. I’m not throwing them away – the things aren’t rubbish, they are things we don’t need any more: jogging stroller, backpack baby carrier, pram, booster seat, games, toys, and clothes. My kids have shed these belongings and their needs for them the way snakes shed skins, birds molt feathers, or the cat sheds his winter coat on my trousers. They leave them behind guilelessly, without a backwards glance.
This week, Juniper demonstrated that she can stretch enough to reach both ends of her mattress. She’ll need a full sized bed soon. Her bed will retire, after more than 8 years of service as crib, cot, and bed to our children. She wears glasses now, and they make her look a bit grown up. Nick is only a few inches shorter than my shoulder and can play a recognizable version of ‘Simple Gifts’ on his trumpet. How did I miss the day when his chubby toddler thighs became long, lean limbs? When did he start losing teeth and sprouting knees and elbows?