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fighting to see the sun behind the clouds
May. 13th, 2004 10:24 pmToday was one of those days where I just felt like I was putting one foot in front of the other. Nothing terrible happened, but I still felt dark inside. My activity of choice, could I have chosen anything, would have been not sleep but rather something akin to hibernation. In a cave. Alone.
E (one year old) got slightly more sleep last night, which meant more sleep for me (yay!), with the exception of a frantic 4am search for my new glasses that I thought I had lost. (I did find them, thankfully, and got back to sleep.)
This is day 4 of the virus from hell for the one year old, and day 1 or 2 for the four year old. Day 4 of being cooped up inside all day with at least one sick, whiny, cranky child. Not that I'm complaining. Well, ok, I am, I guess.
But there were fun parts too. The four year old and I talked today about his favorite subject, weapons. I asked him a question that was recently posed to me.
"If you could only have one weapon, which would it be?"
"Why do I only get ONE?" he asked incredulously.
"Well, pretend that you don't have any, and a friend offers to give you one. Which one would you take?"
He pauses, thinking about this for a minute, weighing his decision carefully.
"A sword," he says finally.
"Why a sword?" I ask.
"Well, swords are really sharp and I think they would cut things easier."
He looks at me appraisingly, sensing my next question.
"I think you would need a spear."
It's really funny; I'm feeling as if I'm in the hands of an expert.
"Why a spear?"
"Well, spears are bigger than swords."
What followed ended up being a long garbled adventure that I started telling and he picked up, involving the two of us slaying a dragon, several goblins, and what would have been EVEN MORE MONSTERS if I hadn't pleaded fatigue, with our trusty sword and spear.
Times like that I remember why I like that kid so much, and why having kids is fun. Playing pretend is so easy and spontaneous for the four year old crowd.
Then later this evening, when I was feeling kinda sorry for myself (working a 'double shift' while D goes out with friends), he (the four year old) comes up with the idea of lighting candles and saying prayers.
I start coming up with my mental wish list about the time he says, "I want to thank Mother Nature for some things."
This Mother Nature thing is not directly from me, though I like it. I think he picked it up from one of the kids at preschool.
"I want to thank Mother Nature for spiders and for lizards" he intones as I light the candle. "I want to thank her for your daddy," I say, sending my own private wishes up to heaven. I ask the one year old what she's thankful for.
"E's thankful for Buh!" my son shouts out, and we both laugh. "Buh" is "nursing" in my daughter's language.
The next candle we light again I'm compiling a wish list, "please send me..." I'm thinking, about the time my son says, "And this one is to help Mother Nature when she's feeling sad about the dinosaurs. Because they all died." He says this last very seriously, with intense feeling.
I feel somewhat humbled. Normally I think of my son as selfish, taking more than giving. Much of the time he is. But today, things were different. Today he was my spiritual teacher.
Afterwards, he asked if we could have a "dance party." This involved turning on Sarah Mc Laughlan and dancing and hopping around in the dark with candles on, my son directing the choreography.
"Mommy, when I put my hand up like this, you do it too, ok?"
"Ok," I say, and we both strike a dramatic pose, then giggle.
The one-year-old beats out time on the floor with Lincoln Logs, also dancing, before getting tired (she is sick, after all) and retiring to a chair to watch the festivities.
Later when they were both downstairs eating a late supper, I came online to find S. I haven't seen him online in what feels like forever. We STILL haven't touched base after his trip to the Caribbean, and I still have to see the pics. (Reminder to you if you're reading this, S., lol.)
Just 'talking' to him for 5 minutes made me feel lighter. He's a true friend, and I've missed him. There's so much we both understand about each other. I don't have to pretend with him; the masks come down.
I also talked to A. earlier today, and wasn't completely living up to my prior renunciation of certain online activities. Nothing entirely "bad," but headed in a direction that was both fun and futile. Been there, done that.
But it's hard. Hard to replace unhealthy habits with healthy ones. Hard when literotica is still the best place I know of to chat, perhaps because as soon as I walk in the room where I normally hang out, at least five folks start greeting me, sometimes more.
Popularity really is a good feeling. Perhaps it shouldn't be, but it is. And it's just so hard to start over from scratch.
But it feels good, to have been present for my son today at least part of the day. Right now I'm sitting here with a sketch pad on my lap. He's drawn me nine roses in a field.
Presents like this make me realize how lucky I really am.
A+
E (one year old) got slightly more sleep last night, which meant more sleep for me (yay!), with the exception of a frantic 4am search for my new glasses that I thought I had lost. (I did find them, thankfully, and got back to sleep.)
This is day 4 of the virus from hell for the one year old, and day 1 or 2 for the four year old. Day 4 of being cooped up inside all day with at least one sick, whiny, cranky child. Not that I'm complaining. Well, ok, I am, I guess.
But there were fun parts too. The four year old and I talked today about his favorite subject, weapons. I asked him a question that was recently posed to me.
"If you could only have one weapon, which would it be?"
"Why do I only get ONE?" he asked incredulously.
"Well, pretend that you don't have any, and a friend offers to give you one. Which one would you take?"
He pauses, thinking about this for a minute, weighing his decision carefully.
"A sword," he says finally.
"Why a sword?" I ask.
"Well, swords are really sharp and I think they would cut things easier."
He looks at me appraisingly, sensing my next question.
"I think you would need a spear."
It's really funny; I'm feeling as if I'm in the hands of an expert.
"Why a spear?"
"Well, spears are bigger than swords."
What followed ended up being a long garbled adventure that I started telling and he picked up, involving the two of us slaying a dragon, several goblins, and what would have been EVEN MORE MONSTERS if I hadn't pleaded fatigue, with our trusty sword and spear.
Times like that I remember why I like that kid so much, and why having kids is fun. Playing pretend is so easy and spontaneous for the four year old crowd.
Then later this evening, when I was feeling kinda sorry for myself (working a 'double shift' while D goes out with friends), he (the four year old) comes up with the idea of lighting candles and saying prayers.
I start coming up with my mental wish list about the time he says, "I want to thank Mother Nature for some things."
This Mother Nature thing is not directly from me, though I like it. I think he picked it up from one of the kids at preschool.
"I want to thank Mother Nature for spiders and for lizards" he intones as I light the candle. "I want to thank her for your daddy," I say, sending my own private wishes up to heaven. I ask the one year old what she's thankful for.
"E's thankful for Buh!" my son shouts out, and we both laugh. "Buh" is "nursing" in my daughter's language.
The next candle we light again I'm compiling a wish list, "please send me..." I'm thinking, about the time my son says, "And this one is to help Mother Nature when she's feeling sad about the dinosaurs. Because they all died." He says this last very seriously, with intense feeling.
I feel somewhat humbled. Normally I think of my son as selfish, taking more than giving. Much of the time he is. But today, things were different. Today he was my spiritual teacher.
Afterwards, he asked if we could have a "dance party." This involved turning on Sarah Mc Laughlan and dancing and hopping around in the dark with candles on, my son directing the choreography.
"Mommy, when I put my hand up like this, you do it too, ok?"
"Ok," I say, and we both strike a dramatic pose, then giggle.
The one-year-old beats out time on the floor with Lincoln Logs, also dancing, before getting tired (she is sick, after all) and retiring to a chair to watch the festivities.
Later when they were both downstairs eating a late supper, I came online to find S. I haven't seen him online in what feels like forever. We STILL haven't touched base after his trip to the Caribbean, and I still have to see the pics. (Reminder to you if you're reading this, S., lol.)
Just 'talking' to him for 5 minutes made me feel lighter. He's a true friend, and I've missed him. There's so much we both understand about each other. I don't have to pretend with him; the masks come down.
I also talked to A. earlier today, and wasn't completely living up to my prior renunciation of certain online activities. Nothing entirely "bad," but headed in a direction that was both fun and futile. Been there, done that.
But it's hard. Hard to replace unhealthy habits with healthy ones. Hard when literotica is still the best place I know of to chat, perhaps because as soon as I walk in the room where I normally hang out, at least five folks start greeting me, sometimes more.
Popularity really is a good feeling. Perhaps it shouldn't be, but it is. And it's just so hard to start over from scratch.
But it feels good, to have been present for my son today at least part of the day. Right now I'm sitting here with a sketch pad on my lap. He's drawn me nine roses in a field.
Presents like this make me realize how lucky I really am.
A+
