A Bedtime Story for Today.

Once upon a time, there was this young price who rode up on a white stallion and encountered a maiden in distress. They stopped, smelled the roses and enjoyed the beauty of the forest, then made their way back to the city where their fame and wealth would precede them. They lived happily ever after.

Let's start over, many centuries later:

Once there was this gal who had a job since she got out of high school. She worked every day from eight to five and collected her paycheck. She had all sorts of friends who surrounded her. They all went out on Thursday nights, Friday nights and did a bonfire on Saturday night. On Sunday, she went to church, then she started her week all over again.

This fair maiden soon realized something was missing from her routine. So she searched out the young prince. She found toads, she found lizards and she found snakes. She worked some more and kept to her routine. Life happened and as she looked around she wondered what this fairy tale was all about. She decided to take the advice of others and not be so picky, but she wasn't too thrilled. Sometimes it didn't feel like her. She worked and she worked some more. She enjoyed it and it felt good. Life happened and somewhere along the line, the fairy tale turned into something so generic that she couldn't believe it was happening to her.

Picking up her courage and vowing off Disney, she continued. She worked some more and did as much as she could to continue. Slowly but surely, instead of being a princess, she became one of them: a statistic, just someone, that girl. The family and friends that surrounded the princess sustained her and even though she felt that she couldn't do it, she knew their faith in her would keep her moving forward.

She worked and worked some more. Then she had a moment that changed her whole entire world. And as she looked into the eyes of her very own princess she vowed that it would never be the same. As they grew together, they found a rhythm to life. It wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, but it was okay.

As the older princess continued to care for the young one, she noticed a certain fair young man who had princely features. No matter what route in the market she chose, the young prince appeared. After many attempts of courtship, the fair young maiden gave in. She was intrigued, but worried about the fair young prince's need to enjoy his youth. A week later, full of purpose, he swept her off her feet. They decided to join their lives together and go forward from there. So the two princesses, young and old, and the fair prince became a family. They kept their normal day to day schedule and as the princess continued she felt like she was outliving the statistic. Life was happening and it was good.

They continued to grow their family and increase their kingdom. Sometimes they won, sometimes they lost. Although things weren't always perfect, the first princess and the fair prince still had their love for each other. Castles and jobs and things fade away, but the two stayed the same. Every night they curled up in each others arms with dreams full of the promises of tomorrow together. They are still dreaming and still living...

Turn the Lights On

Sometimes no matter how long you have been doing something, you can have a moment that makes you doubt your capabilities. When my daughter woke up with a raging fever this morning, seven years of experience leaped out the window and left me in a puddle of questions. As I sat there holding my precious baby that has grown so much, I was taken back to the first time I held each of my children. I remember the wonder and awe that I gazed upon them with. I remember the unshakable feeling of wondering if I could possibly take care of this precious little bundle as well as I am supposed to. How was this big kid trusted with the care of something so reliant, so fragile and so precious?

In my "formative years" i.e. early twenties, I worked in a medical office. I remember panicked moms calling in for different symptoms, childhood illnesses, wanting immediate attention. I knew the generic response and the protocol for these situations. Because I also worked in medical records, I also remember the usual outcome of most of the diagnosis and treatments. I always said I didn't want to be that paranoid parent. Sometimes it seems like that experience is so far removed that I forget the basics.

The middle of the night often brings out desperation and feelings of being alone. It amplifies things that are ordinarily not scary during the middle of the day for children and adults alike. Sitting with a child feverish, shaking with cold and feeling so utterly inept to relieve their discomfort can be magnified by 100x in the wee hours of the morning. It's like the darkness increases the fear of what you cannot see. As I swept her hair off of her sweaty forehead, I had to go back to the facts and quit worrying about the things I couldn't see. It didn't stop me from questioning my aptitude as a parent, but as I filed through the facts in my head, whatever it was that was consuming my child in the darkness didn't feel as threatening.

While sitting there, I found it ironic that I was comforting, commanding some sort of order in the circumstance, while still feeling inept. There are some things that are just ingrained in us. Instincts. I have always been amazed at the motherly instinct, the knowing of things that were otherwise unpracticed. I was not a babysitter. I hated babysitting. I didn't have any previous experience. When I was pregnant with my first, I would waver between courage and wondering if I would do okay. Recently, while looking at job opportunities, I was convinced that no one else could do my job of mom as well as I do. One night of illness took me back to wondering about my certifications even though all of my instincts kicked in. 

I know it is not the first time that this will happen in the course of being mom. Every stage and every year is different. But I do know that the compass of my heart will continue to point me back to what I know and that incredible knowing that was instilled deep inside when I became Mom: Instinct. It's easy to get carried away with what if. When the lights turn on, everything looks normal again. Sometimes we just have to take a breath, remember the facts and not let the unknown cause undue worry.