Saturday, June 13


Image found here

We have had some very inconstant weather this week. As we drove home tonight in another rainstorm that seemed to appear out of no where, I thought about how weather truly is similar to human nature.

We sat in the car watching the rain, listening to it on the roof before finally making our way inside, where it seems the storms would continue. Jeremy got the kids ready for bed while I vacuumed, though I still heard intervals of the crying through the steady whir of my Dyson. Vacuuming, I have found, is a good time for reflecting. And since children are my specialty in this time of life (and the ones crying in the background), naturally my thoughts turned to comparing them to the storms outside.

One day, one hour, one minute, even one second, can be completely different from the next. First their disposition is sunny, their outlook is cheery and you make grand plans for future events. But just like with the weather, the storm eventually comes. Sometimes you see it coming, a series of events to give you warning: gray clouds in the distance, a wind followed by calm, the smell of moisture on the air all give you a chance to brace yourself for what's to come. It allows you time to open your umbrella, and prepare yourself for the worst. Sometimes the worst comes in a downpour, sometimes it's just a sprinkle, and sometimes it resolves itself and the clouds fade before they even get to you. The same is said of children. A fight with their sibling, a missed nap, a cup/bowl/plate of the wrong color all lead up to a breakdown, which usually comes, but occasionally (for reasons we can't understand) doesn't.

However, then there are the storms that show up unexpected. Out of blue skies quickly develop those menacing clouds, and you're wet before you know it. Similarly, a perfectly happy child can wail some of their hardest and a parent will never quite know what hit them.

Fortunately the storm always ends. After the crying, no matter the warning or lack thereof, the child will again be happy. The sun will always come out. This realization came to me when, with a sense of dread, I turned off the vacuum. But instead of crying, my ears were met with the sound of laughter from their bedroom. It lasted for a few minutes...but I'm sure you can guess what happened next.

Just like I'm sure after reading this, Jeremy will say, "All the same can be said of you, wife".


Rachel & Todd said...

Interesting analogy...and so true!

The Shill Spill said...

Very well said Lis! I highly agree...and wish more than not that we had completely sunny days...with no storms. Although, it seems one or two gray clouds sleep in each and every day to bring me some sort of surprise. :)