Dear Todd,
And I felt really busy. Like REALLY busy. And yet, I managed to capture a lot of these experiences on film. Photos AND video. We have these precious years captured to look back on forever. (Insert self-back patting here).
No one tells you that the second half of parenting is EVEN BUSIER. And it lacks the adult social time and the gooey, cuddly love of the little people. So, let me be the whistleblower, "THE END IS NOT NEAR! YOU HAVE MILES TO GO! LONELY MILES! STAY STRONG!”
And Teen Jesus, himself, was obviously too busy to sit still for a portrait. And what with all the group sessions TJ was conducting and the obscene social calendar he was keeping—hanging out with everyone, proclaimed friends or not, Mary had to have been shlepping him all over Bethlehem. And as the hormones kicked in and M and J were greeted daily with random bursts of fluctuating rage and despair, “WHO TOOK MY CAMEL?! WHERE’S MY LOIN CLOTH?! WHY DO YOU HATE ME?! Oh there it is…”
My 30’s were a blur of wiping noses and bottoms. Introducing little people to group class environments during which they practiced parallel play and sharing and when water was involved, they learned buoyancy. On weekends, we practiced riding on two wheels, stretching the limits of the 30-something lower back as we held onto the seat while running. We talked of kindness, empathy, using our words, not hitting and, above all, the art of controlling bodily functions.
And I felt really busy. Like REALLY busy. And yet, I managed to capture a lot of these experiences on film. Photos AND video. We have these precious years captured to look back on forever. (Insert self-back patting here).
Where we are now, however, I have no photos. No videos. It is in this—the tween/teen stage of life---that I realize the giant exhale I’ve been anticipating is oh so very far away. Like really far. Like, nowhere in sight. Like, if I were underwater this whole time, I was now signaling for the reserve oxygen tank.
No one tells you that the second half of parenting is EVEN BUSIER. And it lacks the adult social time and the gooey, cuddly love of the little people. So, let me be the whistleblower, "THE END IS NOT NEAR! YOU HAVE MILES TO GO! LONELY MILES! STAY STRONG!”
However, regardless of your religious beliefs, there is some solace in realizing that this cycle may be as old as dirt. That everyone has been there and almost everyone has survived. And almost everyone over 40 drinks.
Which brings me to the conclusion as to why there are no pictures of Jesus during his tween/teen years---not just because he didn’t want to be captured with braces and acne---Mary and Joseph were slammed.
And Teen Jesus, himself, was obviously too busy to sit still for a portrait. And what with all the group sessions TJ was conducting and the obscene social calendar he was keeping—hanging out with everyone, proclaimed friends or not, Mary had to have been shlepping him all over Bethlehem. And as the hormones kicked in and M and J were greeted daily with random bursts of fluctuating rage and despair, “WHO TOOK MY CAMEL?! WHERE’S MY LOIN CLOTH?! WHY DO YOU HATE ME?! Oh there it is…”
It’s no wonder that she begged him to figure out how to turn her water into something stronger.
Comments
Post a Comment