The Now

When your body clock clicks on and gives you dreams about motherhood,
the dream is never in the now.

Everything is always in a soft golden light,

and clean.

The truth is,

that you never dream about stumbling through the ever-filthy garage,
with the baby carrier clutched in your hands,
smashing your elbow on last years Christmas goods...
Wishing that you'd had time to put this mess right before having the wailing child...

But you did have time. You dreamed, you chose.
You were fully aware of your "now", you just never thought that the soft golden dreams were trying to trick you into organizational haste.

The truth is,

that you dreamed about the perfect nursery (in the golden haze),
and you had nine terrifying months to make that nursery the "now",
so you forgot about the garage, and picked the paint color for that nursery.
You forgot about the lawn, and picked the crib,
you forgot about the water heater,
and picked the paintings,
forgot about the GFCI,
and picked the bedding.
While the garage stagnates; the nursery is everything you imagined.

But you never dreamed about the time to come, when the cranky toddler loves Steve and Blue,
and wants creepy puppets scattered about the nursery and race car sheets and an extremely large hanging of an Owl--Whooo-Whooo,
gave this child his decorating sense?

But the truth is, that this, this acceptance is the shape that love takes; and that is the "Now".