Friday, June 21, 2013
Five Minute Friday: Rhythm
Last night O Bear made a huge mess of dinner, so I put him straight into a tub of water on our front porch and let him splash around for a bit in there, naked as a jay bird as the mess slid off. And while he sat, I absentmindedly tousled his hair, pulling it into a baby mohawk and forgetting, until the next morning he woke up and it had dried that way. It stayed that way all day, somehow, and wearing the polo shirt he got from his grandmother, he looked like such a toddler, like he had grown up into himself over night.
Sometimes I catch myself pecking my own arm, when it grazes my lips. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but it's only because it has become so instinctive, to kiss the top of his head when he rests on my chest or his fingers as they reach for my face. The feeling of skin on my mouth is like the bell to Pavlov's dogs.
And this is the rhythm of my new life. These side-effects of days filled with showing affection. Affection is my latest mastered skill in occupational motherhood.
I said I wouldn't write for a couple weeks, that I would listen instead and really hear. But I am listening, and I am hearing, so I can't help but to record.