One of my favorite memories is a little video of my youngest child singing, PETE THE CAT: I LOVE MY WHITE SHOES. It’s the most perfect song of my now thirteen year-old youngest child, singing the only song I’ve ever heard him sing. It was the song created by a children’s book author that is one that is about life and color: two things that I care about quite a lot.
You can’t keep them from growing. Anyone, humans! Even the ones you always want to be this perfect, four-year-old, half-clad, curly-haired, inventive troubadour. They need to, have to, and will. Grow.
My favorite part of being a mom, you ask?
The small moments like this where the world could be caving in, but then you see a spark of light that is so bright and full of the purest joy you could never imagine on your own, and you find years ahead with the winding road partially lit but lit no less.
Once an artist friend of mine (actress, actually) told me that my children would inform my art. I listened but had no idea what that meant.
My children inform my life.
Art is life.
Life is art.
Life is an art.
It’s messy, unlimited, then perfect. Accidental. Unplanned. Partly planned. The plan went to shit, actually, but then a new plan came to be with some trying and failing and trying again.
Curiosity and necessity (and therapy) move it forward, looking ahead with the wisdom of experience.
Then, it’s suddenly perfect again.
If you were to put music to it, it would be a song with “Bohemian Rhapsody” changes. It would be a human rhapsody of growth.
Or it would be Blue Shoes and just some muck and leaves and you would just get on with it while with eyes wide open you let the joyful moments find you.