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Rock of Ages
Isabelle on Momentous Milestones
Here I stand. My size 8 (up a size from pre-pregnancy) Louboutins are firmly planted on the precipice of parenthood. Mt. Mommydom looms large, and I’ve a foothold on the rock.
Geologically -- and etymologically -- “rock” is many layered.
Each of us has our unique associations with the word…and interestingly enough, amidst life’s soundtrack (cue: rock and roll fantasy), a logical life sequence coincides. Humor hormonal me…
A couple meets. (They rock each other’s world.) They fall in love. (Solid as a rock.) A proposal is made. (He gives her a rock.) Intimacy ensues. (If this van is rockin’ -- no, we’ll keep it lofty.) A residence is acquired. (Piece of the rock). As the childhood sing-song goes, first comes love, then comes marriage, next comes a baby… but this time, it’s our baby whose premiere on the planet (third rock from the sun) is so very imminent. I’m ready, and declare with Snider-like intensity, I wanna rock.
Steadfast. Foundation-forming. Reliable. Consistent. Soothing in solidity. The defining qualities that characterize rock (noun) are the self-same attributes I plan to convey when I rock (verb) my newborn.
Any skilled climber will attest, ascending the peaks requires not only commitment, but equipment…for safety, for fashion, for fun, for the full experience. Trust me, swaying with my sweetie will be accessorized accordingly.
As we journey across life’s mosaic, let’s relish fully each and every stepping stone.
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