Thursday, March 05, 2009

Monumental Playground Day

Today Jack did all sorts of things he's never done before. At the playground, he walked forwards up and down a bunch of stairs and learned to use the handrail. He slid down the slide all by himself, as in without my prompting or being at the bottom to cheer him on. He walked all around the playground, even though it was covered in snow and, since we usually end up doing a second set at the swing, he headed over there holding my hand for a little balance because of the snow. When he was done, he stopped smiling and held his arms up for me to stop the swing and pick him up. When I got him out, he walked over to the stroller and started to climb in.

Time to go!

I'd never seen such absolutely clear communication from him that didn't involve crying or throwing himself to the ground or throwing anything. It was amazing.

too bad I didn't have my camera...

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

Jack fell down...

Sorry, Grandmama Donna! I'll stitch it together with embroidery floss when I find it. Then he will have... Frankencrown!

and it will still be cute.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

New Friends

So, I have a new friend-to-be-I-hope who is totally fabulous, smart and fun. (hi D!) Today we hung out at a big mall in Virginia. They had a fabulous play area for the tots and Mr. Knick Knack was singing his heart out and reading stories. The guy playing conga and tambourine kinda looked sweet and let the kids play with him. The 3 year old was about as good as the big nice guy in the funny sweater.

Jack and his new friend were playing nicely until Jack pushed little Z off a bee. Then he didn't want to be with Jack so much anymore. Poor little guy. Ok, not so little. Isn't he absolutely edible?

Jack is walking a lot - all of a sudden, he just started walking on his own. Of course, I think he's the most brilliant little boy in the whole world. Except when he tosses kids off bees. Then I think, not the best display of an attempt to interact with the world around him, but it's a sure sign he's trying! D was very forgiving. Nice D. I hope Not-so-wee Z gets Jack back!

I want this chair.

A strange thing happened at Z Gallerie. The store at this mall is closing and I want this chair:

But I can't buy it so I bought a jenga type game that stacks bones instead of rectangles with a skull on top. Cool.

Anyway, while I'm checking out I ask the cashier about the chair, delivery, et cetera - you know, living the fantasy of buying the chair. As she tells me the store is closing, I'm overcome with this wave of fear, frustration and pain. My arms flushed and I felt sick to my stomach. The closing date is less than 2 weeks away. I ask her, "Do you know what you are going to do?" And she says there's one thing. Then tells me some very personal information about why she needs medical coverage. No details about her condition, but that her medication is very expensive. Now I know where those feelings came from.

I want to tell her, I'm scared, too. There's no way I can buy that chair. This is a scary time right now for a lot of people.

Instead, I say, good luck! with enthusiasm and, I hope, some understanding and turn to walk away. But I get this other feeling. It's so warm and sweet and I surrender to it fully. I turned around, reached for her hand, looked into her eyes and said, I really feel that you are going to be okay. Better than you expect even.

In general, I'm not one to feel especially cheerful and currently I fight the same frustration, fear and anxiety I felt pouring from this woman. But I'm curious now how she will hold that experience. I like to believe that when I have these feelings that they are accurate. And I really felt that she would be okay and, quite possibly, better than she could imagine.

Then I walked away. And barely made it to the restroom. I hope I did take some of her pain from her. I really hope her load is a little lighter tonight. But even if it's nothing to her, I learned something about the depth of my own emotions and how unchecked they can affect others.

And you know, I still want this chair.