So this past week or perhaps two, I've felt like a lost ball thrown hastily into the back of the car or perhaps dropped there on day. We are driving along a dirt road. I'm an inanimate passenger in my own life just being thrown from one direction to the next, rebounding, getting stuck and rolling back.
My driver? A 3 year old child. That can't be good.
I have moments where I'm myself. The moments are like one spark of a sparkler. I see Isabelle taking care of Henry. Henry's laughing at Isabelle and she is trying so hard to recapture that moment over and over again as the sit in their car seats in the back of my car. I see Henry study Isabelle. Henry climbs the stairs ahead of me and puts his hand up and says "Wait!", just like his sister does not really knowing what he just said or did. Henry putting a dishtowel in the washing machine closing the door and reaching up to turn the knob. These moments are spectacular and brilliant and full of lightness, but I can't hold on to them. I don't think we're allowed to hold on to them.
The rest of the time is difficult. Henry wants to do and see and have what his big sister does. Isabelle wants the support that Henry gets because he can't do what she does. I want to figure it out so everyone can get what they want and what they need, but that doesn't work because really...I have no idea what we all need or what it is that we really even want. I've decided I think to much, but that really doesn't help much.
So for now what is working is for me to roll with the punches. I'll try to steer a little and enjoy the ride. We'll see where that brings us tomorrow, next week, and beyond.
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