Can I help?

My 8 year old son. My cuddlebug. My sensitive soul. My lego-building, tv show quoting, video game playing, character drawing, sword fighting, mama loving little boy.

Because of different things going on with him (you can see this blog for some idea of this), he doesn’t often want to participate in family activities. Helping Mom or Dad around the house is a rare treat.

So when he walked in the house after school the other day and saw my 5 year old daughter decorating cookies, he truly surprised me. In such a good way. My daughter announces, “We’re making and decorating cookies! Wanna help?” To which he answered, “Sure!” He walked to his sister, grabbed a cookie, and began adding icing and sprinkles. “I’m going to do another one” came from his mouth, and after picking myself up off the floor, I stood and beamed as I watched my two kids doing this simple, but amazing activity together.

THEN, the biggest shock of all. After finishing his last cookie, he walks over, hugs me, and asks, “Can I help make those cookies with you?” OMG, YES! Can I photograph and video every second??!  Can we pose for multiple selfies while doing it??! Can I get a sketch artist here to keep this moment for posterity??!! No?? Okay….Instead, like with an animal in the wild, I hold my breath, make small movements, and say very little. Just smiling and nodding 🙂 While inside my head, I’m doing backflips.

It was all over in a matter of minutes, but that experience has made an imprint in my mind and my heart.

Keep walking forward

Among the loving, innocent, and sensitive spaces in his mind, conflict finds a place to burrow. Anxiety and inflexibility, struggle and strife, underscore our every move. Every interaction. The wounds from the ever growing egg shell landscape of our home cut deep. We wearily long for peace and calm to wash away those cracked and bloodied shards. Now and again, respite visits, dragging the jagged shells under a rug. But the crimson stained floor reminds us of what was and may be to come again.

We hope that one day soon, quiet and happiness build a life here in our home. Until then, we bandage our feet and keep walking forward, any way we can.