It’s another grey sky morning* and I sit cross-legged in the middle of their room changing Nate’s diaper. The directives spill out of my mouth and hit the wood floor clack, clack, clacketyclackety, clack, like pouring out a jar of marbles.
“Your pants. Don’t do that. Watch out for the baby. Don’t step on him. Don’t step on me! Put your pants on. I don’t want to hear that word. Look in the basket. No. Come on, it’s time for breakfast. WHERE are your pants?”
Nate stands, still in that baby way, first feet under, then downward puppy, then walk it up until he is before me, his fat Buddha belly inches from my nose. I zerbert his belly button, a requirement for baby belly buttons everywhere, and he giggles and pushes my face away from him.
“No. Teacher Brenda Day? Quinn goes Tree Blossom**. Saige and Garrett go Kindergarten. We go Teacher Brenda?” He leans over to put his face, cocked to the side, eyes wide, directly in front of mine. The fourth of four learns early and well, if you don’t have eyes, you don’t have full attention.
“Yes. Teacher Brenda.” My children are list-makers, infused with my Type-A genetics. Only one might escape, though she learns it by osmosis.
“Next year,” I say brightly, for absolutely no reason whatsoever, “you’ll go to Tree Blossom like Quinn with Teacher Mel and Teacher Jennifer.”
“NO. NO.” His bottom lip quivers and his eyes fill with instant tears of despair. Oh the horror of change. Also passed down on the X chromosome.
Why did I say it? Why rush them? Why feed them every morning an infused black tea of my tendencies for anxious preparation? Why teach them to be always looking ahead to the next thing instead of reveling in the things you have. If I pull the vine of my fear and follow it back to its root, I find a need to nail down the future and make it stay.
Our neighbor’s twenty-four-year-old son died in a car crash yesterday. It’s not my grief. We aren’t emotionally close. But physically, two houses could not be closer. Our windows whisper secrets. Over seven years, I have watched scenes of their life play out on their front porch from my perch at our dining room table. I winced at teenage attitude and smiled at graduation and wished luck over the fence when cars were packed for college. I know she changed his diaper just like this and gave zerberts to tight bellies and I know my boys will be twenty-five and driving cars tomorrow.
Nate keens in my ear. “No Tree Blossom. No Tree Blossom.”
“Is that scary?” I ask him, “to go to a new school?”
Before I can gather my broken thoughts and backtrack to soothe and distract mode, Quinn is there. Half dressed, his round baby belly – the only baby left on his whole, lean, little boy body, sticks over the top of his pajama pants. A smudge of black dirt sits under his left eye, a testament to my poor bedtime face-washing skills.
“Yeah, Nate,” he lisps, “I was shy when I stawrted Twee Bwossom too, but you down’t need to worwy because when I got there I found out that it’s all fwends.”
If only I could be so eloquent. If only I could hold onto such a simple life motto. I want to put it in pretty font and pin it to Pinterest.
Don’t worry.
When you get there,
you’ll be among friends.
Instead I searched for one of my favorite quotes that I haven’t thought about in a long time and transcribed it to my “to do” notebook.
To do: 1) contemplate the connection between joy and sorrow; 2) shut my damn trap about next year.
*Hat tip to Vertical Horizon’s song “Best I Ever Had.”
**Changed to protect the innocent, but preserve the lisp.
Oh! Your poor neighbor. He was just a baby!
I hate those reminders of how easily our own perfect little lives can be shattered in an instant. To contemplate my own mortality is hard. To contemplate my children’s…? Not possible.
And I am so pinning that shit.
Deb recently posted..Oh, and PS…?
I am having such a shitty day and I needed this today. I needed to take five minutes and come visit someone. Luckily you were there, at the top of my reader. Thank you friend. I needed this perspective right now.
Issa recently posted..Today
Lump. In. My. Throat.
You just can’t imagine. Sons growing older. Sons being taken too early.
They’re all memories. Some just better than others.
We have the same panic regarding change with several of the kids. Olivia was in complete panic about moving from K to 1st. Now Lucas is doing the same thing. Mentioning it will bring tears so I just don’t talk about it.
Life can be so incredibly unfair. That is such a horrible age to lose a “child”…I mean all ages are, of course, but that is when you see the results of their childhood put into play as they make adult decisions…the cross-over to ultimate responsibility. My heart breaks for the mom.
Gayle recently posted..Is It Spring?
I am reading this at a coffee shop and trying so hard right now to NOT cry.
I do the same thing…hurry, rush, chastise…all day. Only when they are sleeping do I think to just ENJOY the moments I have now, even though so many of them suck.
Thank you for the reminder again. Must stop typing before the tears flow…..
I am crying. But to be fair, I have been crying all week. Your quote at the end was what I needed to hear today. My joy and my sorrow are intertwined, and to realize that helps just a little. Thank you for your beautiful words.
So sweet. Always trying to find the balance between joy and sorrow, planning for the future and embracing the moment…
Amanda recently posted..Payback
Interesting. Nari had the same reaction to Tree Blossom…and I felt the same need to tell her.
Oh no. I’m so sorry.
When, as kids, we buried pets my mother would tell us we wouldn’t feel so sad except that they brought us so much joy. A good life lesson, but one much easier (though still difficult) to be forced to contemplate in that context than some others.
yes. all of this.
jen recently posted..knock knock.
I try so hard to embrace the chaos. To remind myself that one day, sooner than I think, my husband and I will be back in our quiet house with long days to be filled with anything we wish…except for the laughter of our small children.
Mel recently posted..Show. Me. The Presents!
I will remember this , especially when I walk past the small but beautiful memorial in the park on the corner, to Kahlil Gibran.
For some of us, there seems to be no settling in and relaxing and always something is changing and hopefully ,
those friends will be waiting.
Candice@NotesFromABroad recently posted..A Day at the Museum
I’m so glad you told me what song that reference was from, because it was nagging at me all through the post. Good song.
And good post. As always.
thewonderfulhappens recently posted..We Got Played
{sigh}
Thank you for the reminder and the lovely quote.
{sigh}
My heart hurts for your neighbor.
{sigh}
When are we going for chai tea lattes?
beautiful images, beautiful quotations. good point about keeping the trap shut. 2 days before the accident, when public school started, I said to Jack, “oh i wish you were going to public school today. they teach algebra and you are so good in math. and if you stay in private school when you get to high school you won’t have any friends or even know how to open a locker.” oh yes i did. sheesh.
his response, “it’s going to be fine, mom. it’s going to be fine.”
anna see recently posted..Oh My
Thank you stopping me in my tracks and slowing me down. I love coming here.
Louise recently posted..i’ll meet you in the family room at 9
wise words, wise boy, wise mama.
Stunning, as always.
xo
Galit Breen recently posted..Inspired
We are always in a rush, then we flip and we want to slow it all down … then suddenly, we receive those little wake up calls. Likethis one, not one we wish to receive, but necessary for us to take stock and regroup. So very sad …
take your moments, we need each and every one.
By Word of Mouth Musings recently posted..All things Fadra, and where is home?
I feel terrible for your neighbor. So young…just awful. You’re right – why create anxiety about the future? Sometimes right now should be appreciated for what it is – not what it might become. I think about that when I want to make the little people holding my hands hurry up and get get in the store already. If I’m smart, I remember how fleeting it all is and let them skip.
Kate Coveny Hood recently posted..Sound Byte: For Real
as always, you touched me so deeply, you got me, right, here.
Such great thoughts from a great author. I agree with it it fully, we cry for the things we loved about someone or something.
Ramon recently posted..dance dvds
The more I read you the more I just love your words. I have that baby too, the one who holds my face when he talks so that he knows I hear him and this post has reminded me to really listen today. Thank you.
Jessica recently posted..Sunset
I loved every word of this post. Everything in it spoke to me and reminded me of myself.
I think the connection between joy and sorrow is that, once you’ve gone through despair, you rejoice in being sorrowful because it means you are alive.
Lady Jennie recently posted..Basic Necessities: Security
Such a beautiful words of wisdom to ponder and I love every post I read from you. You really inspire me and you touch my heart into deepest. Thanks!
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