its true. one man loved another, it was poetry, literally, that brought them together in a lopsided fashion... in that one more clearly loved the work of another than viceversa. It is wonderful to see a clear love, unfettered by shoulds and coulds and just unclouded by anything but enthusiasm for a turn of phrase...
As a grownup it somehow seems more difficult to find our unbridled enthusiasm. This morning, my 4 and I did painting and playdough and all I could muster was a few 'ooh's and really, i was just trying to delay/avoid/deny the painful power of the television and maintain a quiet sanity.... The power of the television is that it, in fact, allows me to read during the daylight hours, or journal, or meditate, (although I have been SO slackful there, I consistently count the minutes at Quaker Meeting as meditative achievement, and I'm not at all clear that the worship of the Light is the same as meditation, and none can be. but I count it. COUNTED. )
I used my time to make 'peas'... a therapy of the fingers and the brain and the responses to the kid were sortof on autopilot., although the peas became fodder for some sort of creature that ate them wholeheartedly...it was all about supply and demand, i suppose.
I really do feel shock and awe and amazement for parents who have just one, as I could never be the bearer of that much responsibility. I know that no matter how pathetic a parent I may be, I am showing an adult interaction and I am relying desparately on the imminent arrival of the sibling from the bus. there are these days, after all. there are times I am more engaged.
The 'work' of entertaining, challenging, growing these young ones is not difficult, it really isn't... but it doesn't bring out my wild enthusiasms and sometimes that can be a strain on my spirit.
what do you do on these days, in these times? how do you restore? what do you do with your kids when you need to replenish?