After a few days of coughing and sniffles, and a lot more of them last night, my son declared today that he didn’t want to go to school. We couldn’t blame him. Since I’m taking him and his sister on a plane tomorrow where they will spend 3.5 fun-filled days (and possibly late nights) with cousins, aunts and uncles, and grandparents, I figured he’d better be well-rested rather than bedraggled.
So I got exactly none of the three hours or so of computer-focused work I wanted to do today. Instead I did a lot of laundry and cleaning. And I took him with me to my doctor appointment, where he was able to see the office chiropractor, probably a very good thing. And before that, I actually pushed my six-and-a-half-year-old son on a walk in the jogging stroller.
He loved it. It amazed me how giddy he got when I pushed him ahead and let go. I don’t know how much he remembers of the days I strolled him around often when he was one, two, and three, but he sure did enjoy regressing.
And in a way, so did I. His toddler sister spent the day at daycare, so we had the rare experience of being a one-kid family for a few hours. He wasn’t so sick that he was whiny and needy, but he wasn’t so well that he needed to run around or be engaged. We told him he’d have to amuse himself and not expect much in the way of TV. He said he understood, and for the most part, he was pretty good.
When I suggested we do some yoga, he suggested we watch Yoga Kids, which I haven’t put on in a long time. That was actually fun for me — to imagine how the peace-y, loving, groove-on-nature narrative struck him as a real thinking kid and to watch him let himself get silly and roar like a lion.
How long are the days, and short the years, they say.
Someday, will I miss all the whistling?
Will there be an end to the questions,
of why, where, when and
“can I see?”
and if there is,
will I be glad?
When I can understand my toddler,
will she become less endearing?
When her words are clear
and her patterns predictable,
what will I do for a laugh?
When I stop thinking
about next time
and see what is
as its full reality
will it stop feeling
like a phase
and just like life?
After casting aside my poetry hat for far too long, my NaBloPoMo plan is to write a poem — and to take and post a photo — every day in November, spending less than half an hour on both. The hope is to drill down, to focus, to look for and create beauty.
Day 1: Eleven One
Day 2: Shoreline
Day 3: Damage
Day 4: On Parenting and Sunrises
Day 5: When will we?
Day 6: Voting Line
Day 8: Haiku
Day 9: Reminders
Day 10: Routine
Day 11: Lux Esto, in moderation
Day 13: Siblings
Day 14: Point of View
Day 15: Background