“I’m no more a wonder than anyone. And that’s what makes the world magical. Every baby’s a seed of wonder – that gets watered or it doesn’t.
― Dean Koontz

I defaced a piece of art today. Blue crayon scribbled onto walls the color of cream; drawn in slow circles, not unlike that of a snail’s shell. I didn’t ask about the offending marks. I didn’t question my three suspects or punish the likely perpetrator. I merely picked up a cloth and got to work.

As a mother I didn’t wonder why it was done, no more than I would question the logic of pouring the dog shampoo into the baby shampoo. Sometimes with children there are no answers that satisfy, no reason that can be sought. I just have to accept that the damage has been done and move on. It also helps to remember I was a kid once too. And although my memory isn’t perfect I do recall that there was no consideration of the future, nothing was premeditated – I lived in the moment.

Oh to do that again… To really live without grasping the meaning of time.

It’s easy for me to get lost in the mundane, routines of life. I am a mother. Mundane, routine is a prerequisite when you push a living being out of your vajayjay. There isn’t time to seek adventure when dinner has to be on the table by 5:30. So sometimes I get bogged down, weighted with the awareness that I no longer have the luxury of spontaneity. Every day is the same. Every day with small and sometimes imperceptible variations… Wash, Rinse, Repeat.

And while I kneeled on the carpet, making slow progress on the stubborn crayon it dawned on me… I want to write on the walls. I want to take a crayon and scribble to my hearts content – or I would if I had an ounce of artistic talent.

Instead I put down my cloth and left the graffiti – their art – for another day and I began to type. I guess I needed this. I needed to express myself somehow… This blog, it is my blue crayon.

They are amazing. My three beautiful perpetrators. I wonder if they’ll ever know how much they impact my world…