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Tuesday, April 22, 2014

golden hour, and this happened

There is nothing like that golden hour, when you rise, of your own free will, to face the day. Not, mind you, because of "MOOOOM I'm HUNGRY." or "MOOOOM I wet the BED!!" No, you enter the golden hour, in silence, as the glowing disc pushes up from behind the trees across the way, its dazzling light, pouring into your living room, cup of strong coffee, made by husband just the way you like it, in hand.

Ready. To. Face. The. Damn. Day.

And you are invincible.

And the strange dreams still carry over from the night before (you are, after all, chronically exhausted) and the words, as you write, pour onto the page.

And you are fierce.

You can manage any task this day. Anything! The wildest thought is possible!

And then reality. 

A two and a half hour conference call. 

Crabby children who refuse to do school. Who, er, soil their pants. Cold weather driving you inside even though the sun is brightly beckoning. I don't feel like being out in the cold, they say, neither do I , you respond. 

And you reel it in, the expectations, the wildest thoughts tamed into the mere possible.

I will make a good dinner that everyone will love!

I will make a healthy dinner, that I will force them to eat.

I will make dinner.

And here we are.

The golden hour is past.

We are out of wine.

Also it's only 3pm. Crap, really, four, five hours till bedtime?? Six if we are being realistic here.

And it's Tuesday. And here we are.

And so I write. Because it's good to remember the moments, in the golden hour, and it's good to remember the reality too, not just for what it isn't, in comparison with the golden, but for what it is. It is three children playing duplos while mama writes and dada emerging from his office, to put away laundry because he needed a break and little man writing a page of his book report and writing in cursive so perfectly that you marvel and get a little teary eyed. 

Reality. Golden-hued reality. 

You know?

The other evening, as the dinner hour disintegrated into pre-bedtime chaos, I sat down, fully, mindfully, ignoring said chaos, even dirty dishes, which I never do, and I pulled out a canvas, and began painting. I fully ignored kids arguing, pajama battles, all of it. Dada, man that he is, says, no, it's good, paint! And so, I did. And the birds were outside, dunking their heads in the fresh April snow trying to find the seeds we had thrown out and so I painted a happy green tree for them, with yes, the trite red roses.

So here it is. 

Seize the day mamas!! Or at least, make it to bedtime!!


  1. "The golden hour is past.
    We are out of wine."

    Thank you for my best laugh all day. Rock on mama.

  2. haha. thanks. we have all been there. (lots).

  3. Ha ha lovely post lovely canvas xxxx


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