Keeping it Real

Keeping it Real

ARTICLE & PHOTOS BLAIR FJESETH

We just got back from taking our two sons (ages 6 and 8) to Seattle for a last-minute trip. For the regular readers – yes, I do have a 3-year-old daughter. We knew she would be at granddaughters’ weekend with my in-laws, so we seized the opportunity and ran drove as fast as we could to the city.

I looked forward to the trip from the moment we said, “Let’s just go for it!” because I knew it would be a special time for me to share with my two older children. It doesn’t sound very “World’s Best Mom-ish,” but from the moment my daughter was born, she has been the very center of our universe, and I am her world. She hasn’t really liked anyone else for three years, much less wanted to be with them. She has been my “Opihi” as they say in Hawaii.*

And for the most part, I have loved it. It’s flattering being someone’s sole source of entertainment, love and friendship. She is the baby so I soak her up, knowing this won’t last forever. I would be lying if I said it hasn’t taken a toll on my relationships with my other two older children. I try hard to distribute my time and focus evenly, but I know they get a little less mom time than they used to. That guilt can feel palpable at times.

I can tell you the trip was memorable for my children for all the big reasons, the Mariners game, the zoo, the ferry rides. Those are the things they will remember. For me, though, I couldn’t tell you who won the game. I could, however, tell you that in the third inning, my 6-year-old climbed into my lap and let me wrap both my arms around him, swallowing him into my body, breathing his little boy smell in. I’ve refused to vacuum all the sand out of my car because the sight of it makes me think of my 8-year-old grabbing my hand as we walked the beachline in Vashon, the waves washing in and tickling our feet. These moments that are becoming more infrequent are the very ones I cling to as if they were buoys serving as a navigation mark in the sea of parenthood.

As we drove east with the city disappearing in our rearview, I made a mental promise to recreate Seattle more regularly with each of my children. Not Seattle per se, but time away from life’s insistent nature. Dedicated time to take each other in, to see the beauty in this new phase of life, the one where we are less focused on surviving three very young children to helping three uniquely different individuals grow into solid people.

*An Opihi is the little limpet that clings onto the shoreline rocks. Impossible to remove.

Blair Fjeseth is a working professional and proud Montana mom. You can reach her at blairparker.inc@gmail.com. Follow her Instagram @blair_mt for more adventures.