I think letting our baby cry it out for 20 minutes is tough; then I hear about a mom visiting her baby daily in the NICU, and the heartbreak I feel at my baby’s tears does not compare. I hear about a girl whose father got sent to jail for child molestation and thank the stars for my semi-normal family. We actually communicate well most of the time and our parents have been married 40 years… or is it 41?

I’m back in the woods I visited the other day. With the snow. The second of three blizzards we had laid a light, fluffy blanket, versus this current icy rain that threatens to take you out on the sidewalk. I hiked past the old barn where we took our family portraits, where we laid in the leaves and laughed—now the blanket of leaves is covered in a thick afghan of white snow woven by God’s hands.


Well, I don’t know if there’s a Grand Maestro in the Sky conducting this orchestra we’re assembled in, or not, but sometimes, when nature inspires awe or fear, I’m willing to suspend disbelief.

If the opportunity presents itself, I’d like to return to the old barn in winter and shoot some photos with my good camera to share with you. It’s a special place and I’ll enjoy watching it morph through the seasons.

Tonight I’m meditating on the contrasts all around me. I feel like I’m a drop of oil suspended in water. A stay-at-home-mom in winter experiences some interesting challenges and mental trials, I’d say. Today I haven’t spoken to anyone except the man who installed our shades, and a member of the Working Families party whose door-to-door solicitation at 7:45PM I found to be so unwelcome, I visited their web site and lodged a complaint.

Waiting for my favorite husband to walk through the door and tell me about his day and eat the chicken I made for dinner.

Sometimes ordinary is extraordinary and I’ll take it over a news headline of a story in my life.

I’d like to do this post justice with a gorgeous photo of the woods in winter, but I don’t have an original one I love, so I will let you know when I fulfill my promise to myself and post a worthy picture. I’m capable of taking great photos, but that’s moot if I don’t have a camera around my neck and I’m not practicing. It’s like kinetic energy not yet released, so it’s as if it doesn’t exist. It exists only as potential, and that doesn’t earn the big bucks.

About MommyTheorist

Editor, writer, photographer, and new mom
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6 Responses to Contrasts

  1. Ah, yes. Ordinary is so extraordinary in viewing what life has given me as well – I agree completely and feel the calm of the woods in your words. Thanks for making this slippery and hectic day into one of wonder.

  2. Andrew visits seriously ill children at hospitals twice a week – and had been doing it even more – for the last 15 years. There you see pain, unfairness and true ugliness in life – because that is the wrong part of life: sick children. With healthy children, you have the most glorious, bursting ball of energy, light and potential. Enjoy every second, knowing that is life’s most grandiose blessing.

    • Wow. That’s of course enough to give any parent pause. Somebody has to face the facts every day. How noble a job, improving children’s quality of life. And, never underestimate the power of laughter!

  3. “A stay-at-home-mom in winter experiences some interesting challenges and mental trials, I’d say” — well put! A lovely post.

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