A few minutes between catastrophes

Today was a long, long day. I tried to steal moments of peace between the chaos, the whining, the three-year-old drama that seems to follow him around like a little haze. He's been trying out this fake crying thing hard core. On the plus side, I totally figured out how to make him take naps again. Score for mommy. Plus, the little moments of sweetness, well... they make up for a lot. Damn if I don't love that kid somethin' fierce.

To give us both a little break from the drama, and to take some pictures that weren't (A) him naked and in the driveway or (B) something beer related, I let him watch a little of The Fox And The Hound. We'd started it a while back, so it was queued up to somewhere in the middle. He was very still, which isn't unusual when the TV is on. There's a moment though, when the old woman leaves the fox in the woods. His little mouth turned down and his eyebrows scrunched up. "Why the mommy not take the fox too?"

In typical Disney fashion, it's super sappy and dramatic. I remember being pretty affected as a kid by the drama of the story, and the doomed/forbidden quality of the relationship between the fox and the dog. I touched his hair, and simply said she was going bye, bye. Which seemed to alleviate the momentary concern. After all, he meets a female fox after that and romance ensues. He's still confused by that whole interaction. Hell, I know some men who are too.

It's funny how peaceful he looks in these pictures. Like he's fallen asleep. But really it was just another fleeting moment. Maybe a few minutes all together. I love the way the light comes in through the windows in the living room this time of day. 

It's unusual that we're together full days now, and I'm rarely the one who puts him to sleep anymore (Daddy usually does the deed) so it was a little strange, and special, to laugh our way into sleep tonight after such a tedious day full of irreconcilable moaning. I brushed his teeth and read him a story and got him dressed for bed and he laughed, and laughed. 

And just like that, he was asleep. Cozying down into the mountain of blankets he's collected (his "blanks" as he calls them these days), many of them made while I was dreaming of the days I'd get my body back and stop sharing it with the reflux-inducing, acrobat I was carrying around. I had no idea what a silly notion that was. Even after he was weaned, I swear I can feel it in my gut when he cries out but is too far away for me to hear him, or when he pushes the kitchen chair up to the counter sneakily while I'm in the other room--the little spider sense goes off in my brain that trouble is brewing. 

Despite it being kind of a rough day, I'm feeling pretty damn lucky to have this kid in my life. I hope that wherever you are, whatever struggles you had today, that you're finding time for some peace and gratitude too (even if it is only a few minutes between catastrophes).