So It Goes

"Mom, I decided iPads are boring because you just sit there and press the screen," Olive says as she drives her play trailer around the kitchen.

"I love that you decided that." I crack an egg to go with my roasted veggies for dinner. The kids' GF pizza bakes as we talk.

"Why does Elias always want to do his iPad instead of play with toys? Its so boring, you just do this." Olive pretends to be pushing buttons on an imaginary screen. "That's all he wants to do is his iPad."

Elias, thankfully, is in a different room changing out of a wet pull-up. On his own. Its the little changes we embrace.

I look down at my daughter as she sets up the miniature table in the toy trailer, putting out plates for the plastic cats that call it home. "Well, creative play is hard for your brother. You know that his brain works a little differently, right?"

Olive nods. And for once I would like to be in my daughter's mind and see our family through her chocolate eyes.

Earlier in the day, as usual, it was Elias's head I wanted to pry open and peek inside. After a stretch of positivity, he woke this morning in tears and declared: "I'm not going to school today."

"Well, Olive and I are going-- so I hope you'll join us," I said. With Nick In Seward for work for a few days, I was already wondering how I was going to get both kids to school with me for a 7:30 meeting.

"No, there's no school today," Elias stated. " Mr. Webb said there was no school today."

"Really?"

"Yes, he told me at lunch."

"That's interesting since I work there and he's my boss and he didn't tell me." This is not the first time Elias has insisted that our principal told him school was cancelled. And he will get stuck on it, as if saying it twenty times will make it true. It cracks me up and infuriates me all at once because mornings are hard enough without fiction delivered as gospel.

I took a sip of my coffee and said: "Elias you have eight days left and its a beautiful day, lets just please enjoy it."

"That's why there's no school today," Elias said as he rubbed his eyes. "Its too sunny for school."

"You're funny," I said and I'd be laughing if he wasn't crying and serious in his desire to stay home.

So after multiple refusals to get dressed I told him, "Fine you can stay home but I'm going to walk Olive to school and explain why I'm missing the meeting and then I'll come back to check on you. I hope your dressed when we return."

And out the front door we walked.

Leaving Elias home alone, for perhaps his first time ever--and I left not knowing if I'd return to mayhem, to a boy unglued.

Luckily, I live around the corner from school and can walk there in an easy five-minutes, so I'm sure I was back in less than fifteen, and as miracles go, he sat on the same bench where I left him, fully dressed.

After a breakfast of salmon salad on gluten-free bread, he walked out the door with me. I walked to the gate and looked back to see him standing by one of the front flower beds "Don't you want to stay home and garden all day?"

I didn't say: "Yes, of course I do, its gorgeous out and I have yet to fully get my hands in the dirt-- but I have this social obligation to work that doesn't allow me to follow my brain wherever it leads. What is that like Elias, to live within your own norms?"

What I said was: "Thats what summers for Bud and we are eight days away."

"Right, I'm just getting distracted by the garden." Elias said and almost happily walked with me. We made it to the corner where we looked for cars before crossing the street and talked about Fire Island Bakery as we passed, as we do every day: Is the bakery open today? Not today.

As we walked past the school grounds, Elias said, "See there are no kids out."

"Its still early."

And then his cane got caught in some netting from the construction and Elias said, "See even the netting is telling me not to go to school today."

I laughed and he laughed and we both walked through the construction tunnel to school with smiles on our faces.

And now I sit here at the kitchen table, with both my children asleep, free to be in my own head, but wondering about theirs.

 

So it goes, motherhood.

So it goes...

Comments

[Danielle]

You didn't lose it. He didn't lose it. Now that's what I call a successful morning! Go girl!

[Melissa]

Beautiful parenting skills, Christy. Love your patience and imagination--and I know those gifts have been well-cultivated.

[Meg]

A triumphant morning! That must have taken courage to leave him home but in this case it looks like it worked

[Kristen H]

And all with Nick out of town- bravo!!

[Christy]

Danielle, Melissa, Meg, and Kristen, I love hearing from all of you, and yes, i didn't lose it, he didn't come undone, I took the chance to leave him and we all survived the morning, success indeed:) And Now Nick is back to share the load.

[Kate]

Grace and humor under pressure. Not always achieved by me but worth striving for. Glad Nick's back though.