Funny, inspiring, silly, tra la

HA! It's nice to know that children are so, um, what? Predictable in their roles as darling little entropy machines? Or just that they're much the same wherever they may be, whatever they're doing, and that when I find things just like this, I'm not crazy.

More with M-Mv. I really like hearing others' opinions on these things. "Eavesdropping" on discussions which provide me with material for further mental mastication plain ol' rocks. But it's her last lines in this post which, for reasons better left unsaid, made me truly laugh out loud.

This one makes my heart sing. I'm posting this in case you don't read the above and then go on to follow her last link. I see a bit of her descriptions in my own offspring: parts of their darling daddy, parts of me, that meld so satisfyingly. It makes me proud. I am privileged indeed to be here, mothering them.

Sometimes, lost in the volume of paperwork, meds, therapies, and sheer busy-ness of life, I slip in my focus. Tonight, while doing dishes and fixing dinner, I spent time on the phone with a pharmacy, then doctor's office, then pharmacy again. When I got off the line, I heaved a sigh. Once in awhile, little blips in the rhythm of things around here remind me that not much about our configuration is what one could call "usual."

And yet. I have those children who will notice things. The ones who will of their own accord spend long periods of time watching people making bobbin lace, spinning wool, throwing pots. Who will spend all afternoon with their hands in the "petting aquarium"--their favorite place at the zoo. Who will ask intelligent questions and wait politely for the answers--which often bring more, equally relevant questions. I have children who pounce gleefully on science books, indeed upon the whole science section of the library, and who are sad when we must leave books on the shelf for others (some of them are little yet, still learning about this). This delights me no end.

Sometimes, when I get just under eight hours of sleep in two days, it's a little tougher. It doesn't matter how tired, or sick (I'm not sick, just sinusy and sneezing and feverish and not sick, thank you), or mystified one might become. There is always a call to dig deeper into the material and myself, to want more, be more, to understand and inspire the punkinheads and love the place where I am.

And then, see: I have these children who notice things.

Awesome...

...I'd written all of the above last night and when I went to post it, the internet connection was gone. I took is as a sign from God and went to bed. Q went down after midnight and I followed as quickly as I could. A very good thing too, because of course he started waking up every 20-30 minutes at four. Did I mention how I'm not sick? Because I'm not, you know. Never mind that my favorite part of the week was when I was waiting for the basket to be installed on Q's chair at the big supplier/pharmacy place. I went to grab some more Thick-It and ran across mentholated Kleenex. Oh. my. heavens. This is one of those times I'd like to swoon in appreciation, but sadly, it seems I'm just not that kind of girl. Sigh.

Anyhoo, the boy is down so I'm going to bed right now and I'll finish packing in the morning. Wheee. Pray that he stays down, please? I neeeeed to sleeeeeep. Wah.

Sweet dreams.