Moving forward

We went to Target today. Max, you and I. I was prepared this time — prepared to relax. Prepared to play with you in the aisles as you rolled that luggage, bounced this ball, carried that package around. We made it, and I barely felt exasperated. I’m not sure when I became so uptight (might have been sometime while pregnant with you, I hate to say it), but I let it go today.

You hadn’t had a nap yet, but you’re mostly reasonable, and such a sweet baby. Have I mentioned that? You know, you love animals so much. You’ll walk up to a cat and gingerly pet its head, bend over to eye level and say, “hi kitty, hi.”

You want to do whatever your brothers do. Today was baseball tryouts for them. You walked around in your (too-big) cleats, mitt on your hand, baseball in the other hand. When just recently they were your “soccer cleats,” today they’re your “baseball shoes.” “Tie my baseball shoe, mama” you say to me. “Please mom?”

Driving back from Target, driving along the safety corridor at 50 mph, I saw a formation of geese. The line of geese undulated in the sky, reminding me of a garter snake in the river in the summer. It was a V, then a straight line, then a wave. I couldn’t tell what direction it was going — south, east, north?

It was warm sun today, biting cold wind. You won’t wear a jacket. You’re very much two already, you know. Stubborn.

You’re still sleeping well. You fall asleep in the big bed, and I move you over to your little bed when I go to sleep. You’ve been staying there all night — not a fuss. It’s amazing. Is it any wonder I’m feeling better these days? I promise I will keep feeling better.

Those geese were flying against the wind, changing positions faster than I had ever seen, but hardly making headway. As one became tired, he’d drop back behind another. From down below, it was a beautiful movement – the flowing of that skein of geese. They flowed.

And maybe that’s what we look like — the five of us in this family. We might not be making headway too fast, and it might just feel like each one of us is dropping back (falling down, falling apart) too frequently, but I think we’re moving forward… together.