My child woke up early yesterday, so early it was still dark-dark. I heard him from the shower and tried not to hurry myself too much, waiting to see if he would fall asleep again. When he didn’t, and after I dried and dressed, I went into his room. Picked him up. “Want to go to Mama’s bed?” I asked, and he said yes, so we returned to my room and laid down together, which is one of my favorite things.
It was raining, and I told him so. I showed him how to listen, and for a brief and wonderful few minutes, we were quiet together. “Wain,” he said.
Yes, baby. Wain.
Breakfast, playing, laundry, rain. So much rain. We put the plants outside in a neat row, letting them drink. We set up a small tent in the living room and tried to make it cozy, and my son indulged me for a moment: a blanket, a book. But he is was not fooled for long. “Outside,” he said, again and again, sometimes running to the door to make sure I understood, sometimes letting the tiniest bit of a wail start to creep into his voice. “Outside!”
So – ok. Bundle up. Jacket, boots. Zip zip zip. Out we went, where it was pouring, to get wet and be happy. We found the puddles, we stomped our feet. We crouched down to look at small things; I steered him away from a broken bottle. Outside of our yard, I insisted on holding hands, and he obliged, though occasionally he started to pull away. I could see him calculate. Mama will carry me if I take my hand away. I want to keep walking. I’ll pull her along.
Later, when we were home and dry, after he’d taken a long nap, as I made chili for our dinner, the sky cracked with thunder. Lightning. Things my son has never heard or seen. He froze, and I remembered how scared my dogs used to get when the very occasional thunderstorm would rumble through our coastal town. I crouched down next to him. “Want to hold Mama, baby?” I asked.
“Hold mama,” he answered, and put his sweet arms around me. “Hold mama,” he said again, and held on tight.
Together, we listened. The wain continued.
It was a wonderful, wonder-full day.
The Wandering Introvert 