The boys are little creatures of habit and delicious treats. I never know what’s in store for the day and it never ends the way it began. And every day is never the same. Today was especially decadent. This morning I awoke on the earlier side with longer than usual snuggles and a plan to make steel cut oatmeal for breakfast. I decided that I need to eat a better breakfast and in turn I am going to make the beginning of our day just like the ending of our day. The little creatures need structure and recently heading out the door on time has begun a game of hide and seek. Not fun and stressful. So this is how we started our day together with a meal. We sat down with berries, milk, oatmeal, juice and conversation. We played a few math games and asked lots of questions. We dressed. I made lunch. We all brushed our teeth. Ptew! Found our jackets. ZIP! and out the door we dashed like reindeer, hatted an mittened. The car’s frost melted. Wow. We had it all together. We arrived at our first destination, Asher’s kindergarten classroom. He switched his name tag and out to the playground we went. Holding hands. No running away. No wild dashing. Do you see what I usually witness? NO running out into the parking lot. Sane. Kissing hand. “No Asher, Finn doesn’t want to take off his mitten,” we had no plan B. Asher needs a plan b. He insists on plan A only, but he needs to learn that sometimes we need a plan B, and even a plan C at times. Asher insists and can’t say goodbye. Finn’s nose is running, he’s got the beginning of a cold. Drippy wet nose. “Good bye, Asher.” My tone is, well, bitchy. Ugh. I feel terrible. We all hug. I’m not perfect. Finn and I do our usual drive by pause in the car to see how Asher is doing, his green hat bounces along as he chases and races around the play ground. He’s happy. He’s free. Next drop off, Finn. Who looks like a sad puppy pouting at the purple house’s doorstep. Our second home away from home. He’s enticed by an art project. Distracted. I’m off. Not bad. I have an hour before work and I catch up on phone calls, medical appointments, and basic house management projects and holiday lists while I’m sitting in my car. I can’t remember the last time I took a shower. Lipstick, hair up, fresh warm cozy clothes, brown corduroy’s and a flash of a scarf… good to go to work. I hum about my day. Today is different. Today I am so present. No crazy thoughts, no insecurities. No pining for a different way for a different train track. I feel proud of my day’s work. I set up a special play date for Asher after school with a familiar pre-school friend. He runs his day’s anxieties away, and chases and bumps and learns about the world around him with play. We pick up Finn. After chasing and running games. With confidence and not pushy assertiveness I announce it’s time to go and time to make dinner. I hold out my hands and wait. Pause. They come. We say good bye and the boys dash into the car. I am present. I am happy. I am not thinking about anything else besides this present moment. It’s more mindful than usual. Dinner is a joyful meal with yummy greens and carbs. Asher lead us in grace. We laugh. The boys stay at the table. We are growing up, this family. I am present. We talk about the 5 things we will do before bed and after dinner. The boys like to know the routine, the list, and what’s coming next. They are creatures of comforts. Tubs are rewarded by towels and pajamas warmed in a 105 degree oven. We open another day of the Jacquie Lawson’s virtual advent calendar. We read books. We switch-a-roo.
I am present. I don’t want to be anywhere else. I am awake. My little creatures of the present moment remind me to live with grace, intention, and to give. For it is in giving that we receive.
The holiday season is upon us.
