Florida heat be damned, we took Little Dude to a friend's birthday party this morning.  Because there were so many mommies and daddies, all of whom had formed a sort of perimeter around the splash pad and another around the snack table, we all had the luxury of chatting a little more than we do during a typical playgroup morning.  The joke in our circle of friends goes something like this:

"What have you been up to lately?  Seems like I haven't seen you in forever."

"You know how it is.  Busy, constantly.  But I can't tell what I've actually been doing."

Speaking for myself, I can tell you that there's certainly been no writing of screenplays  or curing of cancer around this house.  Yet I'm constantly DOING SOMETHING and feeling like the best I can show for it at the end of the day is that we're all still alive.  And honestly, there are days I wonder if that's all I'm meant to do at this point.

A friend and I secured our section of the Parent Fence and settled in for an actual grownup conversation.  She began talking about a career path she's interested in pursuing now that her older son is going to kindergarten this year, with her younger son not far behind him.  We'd shared the sentiment before that we knew we wanted to do something when we grow up, but we didn't think we wanted to do what we did pre-parenthood anymore.  Rather offhandedly, she commented that she's been praying about this for some time, and I was struck by the ease with which she mentioned it.

I'm always in awe, and truthfully a little envious, of people who have enough comfort and security in their relationship with God/HigherPower/Who-or-WhateverIsOutThere to talk about their prayer lives in casual conversation.  Like I'd say something like "I asked Mom for some party theme ideas."  Without a thought.  There are a lot of people like this in my life, and for years I've wanted to corner one of them and ask her to tell me her secret.  Is this relationship one you have with God because you believe what you've been taught?  Did you go outside the teachings your parents passed down to you?  How did you get to this soft, broken-in, two-way street?  The older Sir Turksalot gets, the more urgently I feel I've got to have the answers.  Fortunately, he's getting some religious education at school, so it's not totally foreign to him, the whole God-thing.  Yet I feel like I'm neglecting one of the most important parts of my job as a mother:  teaching him that the universe doesn't stop with what we can see.  I trust that eventually, if I keep asking the questions, I'll be pointed along the road to the answers.

I have been busy this past month.  I've been busy writing here, and I thank you for reading along.  I'm not an expert on religion.  I'm not a perfect parent, and I certainly don't have it all together all the time.  But I do have an open heart for all the roads I'm walking (or more preferably, running) these days.  I'm excited by the journey - my journey, and yours.

Peace and love.

OMR