One year ago today I signed off on final papers to sell my business. It was also my due date. That day, that week, is a blur in my memory. I remember being very, very pregnant and having to climb a seemingly insurmountable set of stairs (one story only but one very hot story) to get to my lawyers office. I remember all the legalese sounding like Charlie Brown’s teacher. I remember being thankful that I did not have to sign papers in between contractions.
I remember anxiety, stress, guilt, anticipation, joy, nerves, sadness, anger and then, gloriously, RELIEF. It was more than just an emotional state. It was physical. That moment when, papers signed, pouting done, I suddenly felt light. Airy. Even with the 40 extra pounds of baby, placenta and too many chocolate chip banana loaves.
I just finished a writing class where I wrote a personal essay about that time, but mostly about moving on.
Oh and have we.
Yesterday, June 23rd, was a big one at our house.
Brennyn was, last year at this time snug in my belly enduring all mommy’s crazy emotions but somehow coming out joyful despite all that, this year took her first full walking sequence. She’s been doing 2 steps here, 3 steps there for a couple of weeks now but today on our way outside to play, she spotted daddy in his office in the garage. I set her smiley, grunty, pointy self down, and she just bee-lined it straight for daddy. Her way of making up for doing the first 2 steps while he was away in California. After daddy scooped her up, cheered and gave her high-fives, she wouldn’t sit down. Crawling was so yesterday mom. She tried all day to walk. Which she did. Along with many, many, many, many plunks on the bum, falls into furniture, slips onto the floor. Of course, every time I attempted to get in on film, she would stop, see the camera, and do her mad-dash crawl to manhandle the electronic device. I may have to set up a spy cam today because that wobble-steady-step-step-wobble-steady-step-step-step-wobble-aaannnddd-PLUNK is just too precious (and short lived!)
And Kaya. Oh my gorgeous, growing Kaya. Last year she would not put her face under water and yesterday she went off the diving board in her swim lesson! The metre high diving board! Ever since her Auntie Kinzy went off of it, she has eyed it up longingly but fearfully. After asking her a few times with adamant NO’s, we decided she would do it when ‘I am bigger mom, like 5!’ She’s also going to be able to drink beer when she’s 5 apparently so 5 is the be all and end all of being B-I-G!
Bal and I try to make a point of both going to at least her last lesson of each session. She loves when ‘the whole family comes watch me!’ Having not run in 2.5 weeks, I really wanted to go for a run instead but a mamma’s gotta do what a mamma’s gotta do. I compromised and while Bal drove over to pick her up from preschool, I ran to the rec centre to meet them. It was only a 10 minute run and I really just wanted to keep on running instead of sitting in a stifling, chloriney pool. But oh how thankful I am to not have missed that moment!
I see that some of the bigger kids in bigger lessons are celebrating their last lesson by going off the diving board. Cool, I barely register. Until I see Kaya’s teacher leading them towards the diving board.
“Are they…” I start.
“Noooo, there’s no way!” Bal replies but his inflection suggests maybe they really are.
“Oh my god, they are. Is Kaya going to…” I am gobsmacked. She’s walking right up to the stairs up. I am getting my iPhone’s video camera ready just in case but still doubtful. Bal grabs it and runs over. I grab Brennyn and race over to a prime viewing spot, blocking other parents lined up in chairs, but not giving a damn.
Then she’s doing it. My heart is racing. I am nervous for her. I am wondering ‘Is she okay-nervous-scared-exhilerated-in over her head?’
But mostly I am proud. So heart-bursting proud I can barely even contain it.
Listen folks, she is not running across, barreling off the board doing a twisty, double, swan divey doohickey-wonder of a dive. She is with her teacher. She is slow. She is lowered into the water with a slight drop to another teacher below. But that is not the point.
She is conquering her fear. She is stepping outside her comfort zone.
She is doing it.
A year ago I suspected selling the business was not only the necessary thing to do, but the right one. Today, looking at my amazing girls, I am so bloody grateful for these moments and I know, without one doubt in my body and soul, that it was more than the right one. It was the only one.