And I smiled.
Usually I would dread washing those stained dishes, painted with the smears of yesterday's dinner party. We made pizza (did you know that my husband is a pizza genius?), and every time we make pizza, clean-up waits until the next day when I have more gusto about wiping down a kitchen that has gone through a snow storm and murder scene [read: flour and tomato sauce]. But this morning, that bottle surrounded by those beer-turned-water drinking glasses, brought me joy-- not the kind of happiness that is over-the-moon, roller-coaster high and equally fleeting, but a solid, full contentment.
This mixing of adult and mom life is a tedious dance of constant refinement. Managing my goals, passions, and desires, all of which intersect at some points and verge at others, takes concentration. Our world doesn't praise motherhood, but instead sees it as a handicap for women with ability and talent; the rhetoric is strong and abrasive, and allows those ghosts of young, free dreams to haunt my sacred duty. Young mothering in this modern world is a constant battle of self-worth, requiring the management of timeless values and fleeting fads. I'm still struggling to find my balance.
Last night our dinner table was set for a party of adults: six cream plates and six tall glasses. We ate salad, pizza, and mascarpone, raspberry cheesecake our pastry chef friend brought (he and his wife are good friends to have!). The evening brimmed with stimulating conversation, good food, and laughter--hallmarks of adult life. Meanwhile, Scott sat on my lap, practiced tummy time on the floor, and gulped down a full bottle at the table. We went to bed late.
This morning, as I rubbed my groggy eyes and went to the kitchen to prepare another bottle, I smiled at seeing the leftover dinner party. The dirty glasses, left-over crostata, and Scotty's bottle that all decorated the dinning table was the physical combination of the two worlds I've been trying to balance. It seemed like a small success. Like I was doing something right. But what really made me think and reflect was that the haphazardly placed Dr. Brown's bottle was the perfect centerpiece--a solid epicenter.
I hope and pray that no matter my other passions or desires, motherhood will take a center stage. I want to get this balance right, and this scene is my motivation.
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