Do They Sell Magic Dust By The Pound?

Monday, January 3, 2011

Hello, 2011! Welcome in. We’re so glad you’re here.

Don’t you just love the blank page of a New Year? So crisp, clean and ready for you to leave a mark. I was thinking about freshness, newness this morning while considering my blog. There are few new things in the works for MMM this year. I’m already excited. More to come, folks. You’ll see.

But there’s something that goes along with all the talk of resolutions and “this is your year” mantras. Something rather important, necessary. Energy.

Not the he’s spreading his bad energy everywhere kind. I mean the physical get up and do brand of energy. That thing that so many of us mothers/parents lack. Or we’re operating with such low levels of energy, it’s a wonder we get anything done at all.

It’s different from sleep and feeling tired from getting too little of that. Energy is this internal kick, a revving engine that drives your day.

Some of us take vitamins, drink special shakes or take brisk walks to drum up more of it. Others seem convinced that they’ll never have enough, never return to the levels they had years ago, and settle on Exhaustion as their normal, their starting point.

I’d say I have a good energy. I usually wake up ready to rock and don’t feel like I’m running on fumes come 3 p.m. Notice, I said usually.

There was a morning recently that found me in the bed and looking for some kind of magic dust to be sprinkled over me. I may have even mouthed the words: Computer, on. I don’t what was behind it, but the drag was setting in. I needed some jumper cables or something because this luxury motor vehicle (that’s what we mothers are, of course) was stalled.

Then I heard something. “Doo Norting!” Sounded almost like a song.

Dooo Norting

It was my son. He had just woken up—albeit a tad earlier than usual—and was greeting his father who went to get him.

Doo Norting

It was his version of Good Morning. QB was repeating, as best he could, what his dad said to him when he first opened the bedroom door. My giggles grew, quickly, into an open-mouth laugh. It was so funny to me, so cute. It was magic dust.

Watching (and hearing) these wee ones develop into beings, little people with memory and humor and preferences and intentions is beyond fascinating. It’s energizing. Witnessing this kid learn how to count to nine—verbalizing and recognizing the numbers—in this “it just happened one day” way was astounding. It punched a hole into the monotony that can come from the routines and schedules of raising children.

This New Year is filled with fresh, blank pages. But for me, a mom to an almost-2-year-old, it’s also brimming with Doo Mortings and other kinds of glorious magic dust.


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