|I was happily babysitting this darling bundle, Toryn....|
Yesterday I had Jaxon in the clinic because of a high fever that wouldn't go away. While we waited for a long time to get his strep-test results back (negative, "just" an upper respiratory infection), Jaxon remained on the exam table, too tired to bother sitting up in one of the chairs. His eyes, which were already droopy to begin with, began to close and I wondered if he would fall asleep on the table. Suddenly his eyes popped open and he said, "Mom, I'm just going to close my eyes for a little while. I might sleep because it feels good." Then he closed his eyes and lay still, while I admired his insanely long lashes and felt sad for him. After a little while, he moved from his side to his back and said, "I'm cold." I said, "Are you? I could hold you." And he said, "But I know how to make myself warm." And with a little smile, he pulled his arms into his shirt, pulled his knees up under it, and lay there on his back like a turtle in its shell, content and cute.
Reed is into extreme statements. For instance, when one aspect of his day doesn't go well, it is "the worst" day of his life. Understandably, I have experienced some exasperation in trying to teach him that a day can be mostly good, even if he has to do homework or clean a toilet or isn't allowed to get a candy bar at the store. But I actually like this habit when it's turned on its good side--like when he got to play at his best friend's house for a few hours: "Mom, this is the best day I have ever had!" or when I let him have a third cookie: "You are the best mom EVER" or when he's having fun with Savvy and Jax: "I love you more than anything in the whole wide world."
Savvy is into shrugging, as in the shrug and "uh-uh" that means, "I don't know." Her favorite thing is to ask me a question when she knows I'm distracted: "Mom, is my hair blue?" -"Uh-uh...(shrug)"....then she repeats my answer with the clarification: Shrug + "I don't know". She's also into narrative prayers, and I am loving it. "And please bless that we will have fun. And thank you for our food. And Jesus Christ is my friend, and he loves me, and he loves mama and daddy and Reed and Jax and me, and he will come to my house and hug me, and I will say I love you and he will say I love you and I will say bye and he will say see you later"....
Lately Jaxon is discovering the beauty in silence. He has always been, how should I say....good at relaxing? Kind of a chill homebody. But last Sunday something must have really spoke to his heart, because as the kids sat at the counter while I made waffles, he said, "Mom, can we whisper? I like when it's quiet." So we whispered for about ten minutes, and he sat there with the biggest smile on his face and the sweetest sparkle in his eyes. We had a brief discussion of what sort of environment we need to cultivate for the Spirit to be in our home, and it was just a time that was full of peace.
Reed has walked (by himself) home from school and to school from home a few times this last week. He is happy as can be. (You know, happier than he's ever been in his whole life, in the language of extremes) I'm happy that he's happy, and I'm learning to (very slowly, with clenched fists and jumpy-stomach) let go. It's exciting and unnerving and wonderful.
Lastly, not leastly, we are house-hunting. I'm hesitant to say more until we have something solid, but rest assured that I will document the journey and keep all of you posted!