The Hugger, the Kisser, the Petter

There is a bittersweetness as the snow melts away making room for the grass and the things we dropped in the snow. There is a fried sweet potato, shockingly orange in the white melting snow, dropped off a sled I dragged back from our neighbor's. That night, after the fire in our neighbor's back yard, my toes were frozen in my dollar store boots. A bath and my feet were itchy and hurt as they heated up. Nat took a bath with me, saying, "snow is mean to me."

And there was domesticity and inside togetherness in the snowstorm, tablets and books. Snow melted into small puddles on the living room floor. The dog, the two cats, the kids and two adults felt too big in 800 square feet when I couldn't open the back door and let them run while I made coffee.

I like to watch them run through the back window as I do dishes and wait for the next time someone needs me.

Right now the sun is heating up the pavement outside and Shea wailed when I looked out the window this morning and said, "Oh great, the snow is melting." "That means I can never go sledding again! Oh no!"

Last night I drove to the Chinese restaurant and then came home to lovely chaos. The hardwood floors looked lovely and warm and the children were loud and running around and chasing each other and Shea assigned us all roles in the event of a monster coming. Shea would be the kicker, I would be the hitter, and Nat would be the biter. Yesterday at the vet, in preparation for Noble to get her shots, Shea assigned us roles then too. I was the hugger, Shea was the kisser, and Nat was the petter.

There is so much talking into the void and fear of Trump's presidency and I can't even read the articles, I don't click on anything. All I want to do is be with my kids and breastfeed Nat in the warm dawn in the bed with the rest of the family asleep beside me and wake up to make coffee and hold onto my children.

#parenting #braininjury #anxiety #mothering