The morning was mighty rough. Rougher than most. He was hungry but didn’t want to eat. He pushed everything away, even me, but he wanted to be held. Nothing would console him. So I laid him down on the wood floor and let him manage his crisis himself. I went in the living room and sat on the sofa feeling the heaviness of a very long day ahead. He came next to me, reached his hands up and I grudginly obliged his request. He sat on my lap for a long while… just laying there with his head on my chest. I think we started the day too early and too quickly. He wasn’t ready.
Watermelon seemed to make everything better. I am the crazy who took 78 photos of this kid eating his first summer watermelon. 78. I don’t think I got enough. HAHA He held the watermelon with both hands, taking it very seriously for a few moments. He nibbled for a bit, in between bites he’d point to the sky and announce the passing of yet, another “ah-pah” (airplane), and then he was off. Exploring the yard. Back to this ridiculous amount of photos: I took 78 photos in approximately 4 minutes. It’s an illness I tell ya. It is almost a full time job managing the out takes. I swear.
We have got into the habit of hand holding while riding in the car. He will scream and scream unless someone is holding his hand. Bad habit. So tonight on our way home from dinner, as I was holding his hand, he grabbed my arm firmly and pressed it up against his face. The whole way home. I watched him in the little mirror we have in the back seat as he clenched my arm against his face over and over. I melted and at that moment, I didn’t mind that that I was losing all feeling in my arm.
We got home and he had so many snuggles for me before bed. I think it was his way of consoling me… telling me I was doing an okay job, that he loves me and he is happy. Which made me happy. Very happy.