Last night I went to tuck my son in. Tuck him back in, actually. For the third time. The first goodnight kiss had happened about an hour before. And then he’d needed a heating pad to sleep and I said I’d bring one. And then I forgot. And when he came down to remind me, I set down my glass of wine and pulled myself away from the very important Words With Friends games I was engaged in and headed upstairs. I tucked the heating pad under the covers with him, adjusted his comforter and lowered the volume on his music. Made sure the fan was on the middle setting, kissed his forehead and told him that he needed to stay in bed.
Mom? Can we talk?
Quickly, buddy…we can talk quickly. You need sleep. What do you want to talk about?
(me, laughing)All of it?
How it’s very good?
It is, isn’t it? Mostly, anyway. There’s some bad…but most of it’s really good. But…mom?
It’s not that way for everyone, is it? I mean…the way it is for us? Mostly good. It’s not mostly good for everyone. Did you know that?
Yeah, pal…I know. Some people are born in different places and with different lives and sometimes things are very, very tough.
That’s not fair, is it?
Nope. It’s not. And I don’t know why it’s true. But I do know that I love you.
I love you too, mom.
And he wrapped his arms…his strong-for-a-nine-year-old, frequently dirty, but recently showered little boy arms around my neck and hugged tight.
I needed that yesterday. The last few weeks have been tough. Not in a permanent way or in a way that anyone should worry about…it’s just one of those times in life that sometimes happens. Do you know them? The times when things start going wrong and it’s one thing after another and no one single thing is really that big a deal and you know it’s all going to work out…and soon, even…but not yet.
It’s one of those times.
And it will pass. But right now, I am tired. I am tired and my mind is tired. My mind should be tired…it worries and wanders. It spends its time coming up with “what-ifs” and contingency plans. At any given time I have a Plan A, a Plan B…and a Plan C…just in case the first 2 fail. Which is silly, actually. Because anyone who’s been paying attention at all will tell you that making all of those plans is a complete waste of effort and energy. It is not the things you worry about that end up happening. It is the phone call at 2PM on a Tuesday that will blindside you and leave you reeling. And I’ve known that for years. But I forgot. Given a few stressors, I revert back to form. I double down at the gym, drink twice as many green smoothies and pretend that I have control over what happens next. I don’t. And, as it turns out, I don’t even need to. No matter what comes next, no matter what happens, I am, and always have been, profoundly blessed.
I just needed a nine year old boy to remind me.