She lays next to me. We snuggle and say nothing for a long time. She has been anxious lately, discovering how life works, how death happens and how time moves on. She tells me that she will never grow up. I smile with wet eyes as I tell her how much I don't want her to never grow up....that the whole point of having children is to watch them grow, the adventure and all. I am a convincing liar, just this once, as in my heart I wish she could stay this way forever.
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He is smiling. Actually smiling. He has perfected the sullen teenager act so much lately that I am surprised by his light mood. We talk and I discover my son over and over again, how much he has grown, how much he is still my little boy.
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He seriously asks me to come downstairs. Last night we discussed how anxiety-ridden the last few weeks have been, how melancholy has crept in, how the stupid car needs to be repaired before he gets yet another ticket from a very bored and very persistent town police. So, I assume the worst this morning. And he surprises me. He has spent the early morning making personal "business" cards for our Aspy son so that on his last day of camp he can try to keep the tentative friendships going. He even put his camp nickname and his internet board icon on the paper cards.
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Every morning. One of them jumps on top of me, purring and purring. Not a bad way to wake up.
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Time Machine
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