We’re Going to Have to Parkour

Everything happens before 9am here.  I have lived a lifetime, tangled my hair, fallen to my knees, begged for forgiveness from the nutrition gods, yelled (I’m trying), dried tears, worked out (only on a good day), wiped at least one butt (on a bad day), hugged my kids, frowned at them, too, contemplated boys and middle school with my 13-year-old, high-fived Jay as he tries to throw me a supportive smile on his way out the door, spilled a cup of coffee, done three school drop-offs and dropped scrambled eggs 4 times between the stove and table………this before 9am.  This morning an entire bag of miniature puppy treats was spilled on the floor causing me to move a piece of furniture to clean behind it.  I love cleaning before 9am- it fills my soul (this is a lie).  So I’m falling to my knees for the fourth time before 8:42 and seeing all of the dirt and grime behind this piece of furniture.  I pullout the wet mop for a thoroughly- frustrating mopping session.  Afterwards, my youngest looks up at me, as we are standing in a corner looking at our shiny, sparkly floor realizing we are now a bit stuck, and she says the greatest thing to ever come out of a 4-year-old’s mouth (please, for your own enjoyment, carefully hear and understand she cannot say her r’s properly):  “Wuh gowing to have to pawkohw out of hew.”  Translation:

We are going to have to parkour out of here.

Genius.

Yes, my sweets, we are.

We are going to have to get creative, and perhaps, pull up our big girl panties and find our way out or in or both.  I was completely struck in that one silly, mopping moment that while l’m running along here, closing my eyes and hearing and feeling EVERYTHING- my kids are running right at my feet, right there with every footfall, every twisty minute.  I spend too much time mom-guilting my way through a day and cringing from what I said or should have said or didn’t say to them or to anyone else.  What I should be doing or cooking or trying to clean or organize.  But none of that matters to them-they simply see me trying and loving and helping and giving and adjusting.  We are climbing up boulders, laughing as we kick off the tall Georgia trees, vaulting over streams and bear-walking over anthills- together, not always perfectly, joyfully or gracefully, but we are doing it.

I watched a certain debate-like something on TV last night, and, yes, we are going to have to increase our flexibility and muscle-up and find our way right through this.  Because the babies are watching and the lizards are laughing and Bodey wants to know what might happen to people because the dinosaurs couldn’t even make it in this world.

I wish I could draw- anything.  I was not gifted in that department in any way, shape or form.  In fact, when asked to draw, I instantly get a nervous tic and within seconds am reduced to tears.  If I could draw, I have this amazing vision of a large sketch I want hanging in my kitchen…..actually, maybe in the laundry room since I spend most of my time there.  It will be of me, not the lipsticky-skirty me, but just me with my poofy-humid Georgia bedhead, a coffee mug, each of my kids attached to me in some crazy fashion, the puppy chewing my pant leg, Jay with his computer bag and his hard hat, yes, he should be in it, too, standing on top of a pile of places we have been, lived, the stuff we left behind and the crap we are figuring out today.  Like freaking superheroes.   Because we all need to find our inner-superhero right about now.

Come on, baby girl, let’s shut our eyes and parkour our way, not outta here, but right through it.  Because that’s where the people running with their eyes closed go- right through it.

Just in case you don’t have a 7-year-old constantly talking about parkour as I do.

Parkour:  the activity or sport of moving rapidly through an area, typically in an urban environment, negotiating obstacles by running, jumping, and climbing.