Thursday, April 17, 2008

twoday ~ two days in one

This week has been... challenging. My perfect little angel has been a holly terror. Early this week he had recurring fevers for 3 days that made him.... cranky in the least ~ not his fault.

Then, as the mysterious heat wave began to subside, his temperament began to boil over. Last night we had the pleasure of his screaming company from 3am to 6am. Hubby got a whole 30 minutes of sleep before dragging his ass to work. After the first two hours of trying to fulfill every unnamed fervent need imaginable, we realized it. This was an old fashioned, full fledged, textbook, run of the mill, temper tantrum. Oh welcome to parenthood once again!!

Today, I moved a banana that was invisibly attached by a string to a pin in my child's psyche, which once pulled set off an emotional firestorm of violent indignation.

It

lasted

an

hour.

twoday

Later, after hearing that reinforcements were due in late that evening, the demon and I took ourselves on a little outing to a new park. It was a woodsy, goosey, pondy, hilly park, and it was lovely.

Somewhere, out of no effort of my own, as I watched the boy spin the steering wheel of a fantasy fire truck around and around with unreal joy and delight, a spark of life floated down upon me and it became clear to me that this moment was everything.

I felt a feeling I can only describe as bliss. And I felt it so strongly that I noticed my lips forming the word, my vocal cords eking out the sound. I said it allowed to my son, to that space and time, to myself.

Bliss.

And while I'd felt this thing before, many times, it had been a very long time indeed since this feeling alighted upon me, through no effort of my own to capture or construct it.

It was like magic. And for the rest of our time in the park, I walked a toddler's path. I saw dandelions for the first time, as did my son. I found a world of adventure in descending a hill, and then acceding it again. I gazed dumbfounded at geese. I sat on gravel and lingered for the feel of it. I knocked on a wood sign because it resembled a door. I sought comfort in my shyness as I smiled at strangers. I marveled at boys and their dads carrying long poles and metal boxes. I observed dogs with a healthy respect. I was carried, when I grew tired, by my mom, back to the car.

I was safe and loved.

It was bliss. 

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