Around and around we go

Where we stop, nobody knows.

At preschool drop-off the other day, a mom of two (very soon to be three) commented, "You're my light at the end of the tunnel. I see that eventually, I'll get there too."

Which was funny to me because I'm not feeling particularly inspirational lately. What I am feeling is as if I'm on a merry-go-round, whirling and whirling at a dizzying speed to crazed, frenetic carnival music.

See that wild eye. Those flaring nostrils? That's me confronting my schedule. Three children. Twelve extracurriculars. Pet care. Playdates. Housecleaning. Yard work. Groceries. Cooking. Volunteer work. Appointments with various doctors, dentists, orthodontists.

Is this life? No savoring the leaves turning? No gentle and unhurried ambles through the woods. Just run, run, run from here to there. From there to here? It seems to be the norm in my suburban Boston town, but some tiny part of me wonders about just stopping. Stopping and dismounting and wobbling off the carousel to explore the other wonders of the carnival. The ferris wheel, maybe. Or the games.

But meanwhile, I ride.