It is that seasonal tipping point. The soft, beachy days of August are becoming farther away in my rear-view mirror of life and the back to school, work, volunteering, holy cow I need to use this crock-pot or we all are gonna only eat at eight O’clock every night, after school activity shuffle is fully upon our family. Kapow! My tan is already fading. Boo.
I feel like a cross between the lady at the circus spinning plates and a one-man band. Part koo-koo crazy, part, “Wow! How did she do that?!”
crazy - right?!
I don’t want the girls – or Cliff –or to see me as the yelling, wheel spinning, not getting anything accomplished, late for everything mommy. And I’m not – most days.
I am thinking about all of these things this morning. I have always thought of September as the start of the New Year. I believe that the new habits and rituals that I create and practice, the goals that I write down – really direct my path for the year.
I like to believe in signs from the universe. Signs that blink red-warning lights. And signs where the universe lovingly whispers to you -"Hey honey. You are going in the right direction."
This is the first image that came up when I googled, "woman spinning plates".
Look at Farrah - all back arched and sun in her California blond hair. She's not worried. Or crazy. Or yelling. She's spinning her wheels looking gorgeous and easy. If that isn't an exquisite sign, I don't know what is. Happy New Year.