Write, Mama. Write.: Aim

These are our latest #4 efforts, welcoming my favorite season.

We have some fantastic photos of the boy ducking down, arms waving as if tangled in spider webs. He's going for the dot-dot ball deep in a soccer net, retrieving his first goal of thousands. The three of us were run-run-running in the grass and he moved in for that first big kick, taking determined aim in the vastness of the target (it is vast when you're almost two and inside the actual goal). I tried to get some pictures and T said I should go behind the goal... Of course. You get the tangle, the drama from the net's perspective.

I think, when I look back at the pictures, of how many firsts have come, gone and how many more there are in our future. I think of taking aim when you're tiny and when the goals are big-big, of how sometimes you don't realize you reached a goal until everyone around you claps and cheers and takes photos. Then, too, it's still like that sometimes: we hone in, gear up for our intentions, appreciate a little validation and, more often than not, we end up accomplishing something. We look at it from the net's perspective and see the tangle and joy of taking determined aim in the vastness of hopes, reality, goals, intention, possibility.

I started a birthday crown yesterday for the boy. Little felt pieces and pinking shears and buttons surrounded me during nap time. After snuggling with my sleepy guy while he woke we tried on the crown. He looked at himself in the mirror beaming with primary color satisfaction on his head. I looked at him and somehow I slipped behind the goal. I thought: this is a mama moment of everyone clapping and cheering and taking photos. He's happy, smart and silly. He's confident. He feels safe and loved and proud. Sometimes I spin as I take aim with the job of parenting but there are these bright moments when I know I'm accomplishing something big-big.

Mama Says Om