Asher Update

originally uploaded by Mellahaney.

Today

I will not feel worry.

I will not feel stress.

I will not think about the small things. The cups of apple juice that I water down to stretch out the bottle. The parade of tiny black ants that find their way onto my counters.

I will not think about the larger things. The overdrawn charges on my bank account. The dental bills enroute to our house. The nagging novel, still unfinished on my desktop.

I will...

Enjoy the sunshine.

Make Asher smile.

Stretch.

Pray.

Write.

Appreciate that my children find joy in the simplest of things and do not care that what they already have is all that we can give.

Learn from them.

Dentist

The waiting room had a fireplace and the reception desk was dark cherry wood. The floor appeared to be marble and the rows of patient files behind the woman who politely handed me the stack of new patient paperwork to fill out - were hidden behind cherry wood sliding cabinet doors.

Walking in there this morning, with The Boss and Lila in tow, I felt overwhelmed. Not a kids book or toy or stray crayon in sight. If this was their waiting area, how would their rooms be? Would my two children be able to behave, unentertained, for the entire length of all of our appointments?

All this anxiety quickly disappeared as I signed my name for the fortieth time and looked up to see Lila standing at the bathroom door with her pants and pull-up down around her ankles, exclaiming to the two other families waiting in this beautiful waiting room "I have to poop!"

Of course, she did not have to poop. She and I went into the bathroom, where she sat, hummed for a minute, then announced she was done and would like to wash her hands.

The appointments themselves went off without a hitch. My teeth are better than I had anticipated (or at least, only requiring a small amount of inexpensive work) and the children each listened and opened their mouths wide for the hygienist.

She paused while counting The Boss's little teeth, to see if she could feel movement at all. And when she confirmed she felt the slightest bit of "wiggle" - I actually felt sad. Sure, he's been growing and growing and growing and he's looking more little boy than he is preschooler - but I'm really just not ready for that sort of manifestation of his growing up.

It's funny how we want to hurry them up in some ways (ahem, Lila, please start to use the potty - without dropping your pants and announcing it to the world) and in other ways, we want them to stay just as they are, sweet baby toothed grins and all.