beeswax and oil

open kitchen door and cups of soil

Right now, Reed is sleeping on his mattress on the floor with beeswax and oil in his hair.  He is probably on his stomach with his butt sticking up in the air (he often likes to sleep that way at the night’s start).  There was a rainbow, tonight, and rain, and we took all the jars off our shelves and rubbed spoon oil on the dry, neglected wood.  Our clothes are covered in wax and our arms up to our elbows.  I love the smell and I love it when we work side by side.  It might be one of my favorite parts of parenting: the joy of little tasks, the small moments of partnership.  The days when motherhood has been hard have been those that I have approached my role as being a mother/servant rather than a mother/teacher.  I am grateful to have learned this lesson so soon.  I am grateful to be a mother.

At certain things, I feel terribly inept (as a human, not just a mother).  But I am learning to be okay with my ineptitude, thoroughly okay, and to rejoice in my small successes and to always be learning.  And to be “glad and young” as e.e. cummings once said and I can never seem to forget.


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