I’m sitting in my living room, looking wistfully out the window, knowing that I’ve already spent my fair share of time outdoors, today. 
I don’t want a sunburn and while I slather up when necessary…..I’ve never really liked the feeling of lotion on my body. So I opt for some indoor time….at least until I need to pick up the boys from school and then I’ll greet the sun with smiles and a spritz of sunscreen. Until then, I close my eyes and reminisce of the golden warmth soaking into my soul, revitalizing me.
When I open my eyes, I see evidence that Judah’s been here.
The dregs of his Honey Nut Cheerios and Almond Milk make me smile. This boy of mine is such a gift. He is an incredible living paradox. Verging on the edge of violence in his stance against injustice…….and yet indiscriminate in his compassion. Have I told you about the time we took the boys to see Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and he cried when Ego was destroyed. He clasped my hands to his heart and whispered through his tears, “But WHY? Everyone deserves another chance?”
I don’t ever want him to lose that heart for others. I will fiercely protect and nurture that empathy, tenderness, and humanity with all my being. He is such a gift to me, to us…..to the world.
I look over to my right and see glorious creativity within the chaos of these walls. That stack of mail will become “creations” before it hits the recycling bin. I savour the moments when I can sit, drink my coffee and knit a few rows on a dishcloth. I like small projects because I can finish them in between all the glorious distraction. More often than not, that coffee grows cold and my knitting is interrupted but it’s ok because these moments don’t last.
The screams to break up a fight or get a snack for someone……they are becoming fewer. The yelling because there is no toilet paper on the roll and no one thought to look in the cupboard…….or because someone ate someone else’s ice cream. It’s still there but I’m less needed than I used to be. Which is good cause there’s still a whole lot of needy people in the family and I’ll take whatever reprieve I can get.
Moose – aptly renamed – as he’s not the smartest cat in the world……but he’s exactly what we needed. He gives his love freely and unabashedly. He allows for over excitable autistic hugs and purrs louder than I’ve ever heard from a cat. It’s like audible Valium to soothe our souls from whatever anguish and trauma we may be experiencing.
I need to pick the kids up. To leave this cocoon of quiet chaos. I don’t want to.
