The roller coaster

If someone were to build a roller coaster made of all the emotions I feel in a day, as a mother, it would be the most insane, terrifying, thrilling roller coaster in the world.

Firstly, it would be made of wood, so as not to be too terribly stable.

It would have a long, long line to lull you into a false state of unassuming innocence.

The attendant would check your harness and roll their eyes at your gleeful naïveté.

It would shoot off at warp speed right out of the gate – no slow build up on this ride!

The kind that makes you sick from all the twists and turns and loops.

You may even black out a little.

The kind where you get to the very top of the peak and are marveling at the gorgeous view. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful? Peaceful? Still? You could sit there forever.

… then two seconds later you are plummeting to the ground with unbelievable force.

The kind that makes you shriek with delight and fear all at once.

The kind that makes you jump out of the seat, glad to be on solid ground again when it’s over.

But then you can’t stop talking to your friends about it when you get off.

The adrenaline lingers and you look back at the line.

You forget those scary loops and your nausea disappears.

You remember just how breathtakingly gorgeous that view was at the top of the peak.

And you get back in line to ride it, again and again.

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