Priorities
Sometimes my dreams set my heart pounding like I’ve almost fallen off the edge of a cliff. Other times they’re as dull as tombs. Last night it was endless miles of traffic, snarled for no particular reason on a gray evening. The passenger in the seat behind me leaned over the seat and began praying the rosary to keep his sanity.
The afternoon was beautiful again. It had been awhile since we’d had mild temperatures and high wind. It felt like spring again. The boys ran around with Heidi and another classmate after school. Yali left with both pants and Chucks appropriately covered in mulchy dirt, just as things should be.
During our drive home, Puck – inspired by Heidi’s mention of having her own diary – wanted to know if I thought it was a good idea to begin his own journal.
“Well, sure, it’s a good idea. Sometimes it helps to put down thoughts you have in your head to remember for later.”
I could see a look of concern on Puck’s face in the rearview mirror as he leaned his head against Yali’s car seat. “Mom, I can’t do that. There are just too many thoughts in there. I have so much knowledge in my head, it’s crazy!”
Clearly this was an all-or-nothing situation. Document everything, or nothing at all.
The evening was reserved for Oxbear helping Puck design a science toy for class, and for me putting together paperwork to bring to the Social Security Office tomorrow for Yali. Always more papers to file. Six and a half years of it, and I’m guessing about another year to go.
But first, the boys sat down to some big helpings of grass-fed beef and fresh veg for dinner. Puck continues to beg for big, healthy food.
“Even if you’re having something unhealthy for dinner, Mom, make sure you give me the healthy stuff,” he told me with some solemnity. Several times.
About halfway through the meal, Puck remembered another aspect of his homework that he’d forgotten to mention earlier.
“Mom, remind me to review my Bible verse.”
I nodded to the white board on the wall. “Go write it down.”
I looked up a few seconds later:
“Biball vers”
We’re getting there.