Resilience

When did September happen?  Why is it that I can't remember August? For the past weeks (weeks that became months) I have hovered outside of it all, wondering if I would ever get the courage again to merge back into the busy traffic of things.  And then, just as all who loved me during this slow fearful time promised, things started to get better.  I went to see lovely Jeanette, who helped me hunt down those wounded thoughts in my mind that wouldn't let me get past the few minutes in July when I was convinced Isaac was gone from me forever.  Then, using EMDR (a technique I don't understand yet have still benefited from) she helped me build the more compassionate thoughts that lead to my favorite of all human traits - resilience.  What a gift.  I am back.  And I've started to take pictures again.  See?

Back in the saddle again:

Chasing chickens, an exercise in persistence:

Persistence paying off:

Broody Jane:

Atticus in flower pot:   

Me in a cat's eye.

Morning Choices

Yesterday Isaac had to make a very tough decision: go to the zoo with his great friend Linden OR go to Carol's House to be baby-sat by Carol's seventeen year old son Tanner.  Isaac told me he wanted to talk it out (a new phrase of his that I am determined to take seriously - no grinning during the talk-out!). Here's a quick summary of what was talked (ab)out.

On the one hand the zoo is a place of big fun and Linden is a person of big fun.  Not only that, but Linden's dad was planning on acting as chaperone, and I hear that he at least has some moderate fun going for him as well.  Also, the zoo usually means JUNK FOOD! and POCKET MONEY! Yeah!

On the other hand is playing with Tanner at Carol's House.  Tanner and Carol, while happy to have him, both requested that I make clear to Isaac the many ways in which his party may be pooped should he decide to go their route.  1. There are daycare babies there.  Napping babies who need a lot of quiet time.  Napping babies who may cramp an 8 year old's style. 2. Tanner had a class to attend for 3 of the 8 hours Isaac was hoping to spend with him.  During that time Carol would sub, but her Star Wars skills have gotten a little rusty over time. 3. Distinct absence of junk food. 4. Likewise, no pocket money.

In the end, Isaac decided on Tanner, reasoning that a kid could go to the zoo any day while spending time with Tanner was an opportunity never to be passed up.  Such is the power Tanner wields over 8 year olds.

And now Isaac is spoiled for all else.  He loves school.  He really does.  But just look at that face this morning when he had to go to school (which, have I mentioned, he loves) instead of going to hang out with napping babies and play with toddler toys at Carol's House:

Morning Fur and Feathers

At last count, we were up to 14.  Pets that is.  When you take out the nine chickens, that still leaves three cats, one tiny dog, and a three-legged lizard.  Isaac suggested that I list them all here, in alphabetical order. (Isaac thinks all things are improved when placed in alphabetical order).  So, here they are: Atticus Finch, Batty, Black Beak, Cricket, GoldenHeadRedClaw, Goldilocks, Jane, Miss Mouse, Rainbow, Ralphie, Rosalind, Skye, Storm Cloud, Tinydog.  Whew!

Each critter has its own little personality, its own set of needs, and its own way of making Isaac and I smile.  For Isaac, they have allowed his empathic spirit to blossom and his patience to deepen.  I think it is a rare eight year old who successfully tames a skittish chicken over the course of several months.  Look at them now, sneaking in an early morning cuddle before we head out to school:

To me, the animals truly are a reason to wake up in the morning, especially for those three days a week when Isaac is with his Daddy.  On those days, my first smile of the morning is always for my Cricket cat.  She sleeps tucked next to my cheek on the pillow at night so that she can greet me with a gentle head bump first thing in the morning.  I love that little girl. 

It is such a simple thing reallly.  They need us, so we rise up and do what needs to be done.  We fill their bowls, let them out, and turn around to let them right back in again.  We build them safe places to roost and sew tiny felted fish for them to bat around and lose under the couch.  We rescue them from a life tied to a tree in someone's backyard and give them bad haircuts with dull scissors (just an aside -- dogs with standing up ears look terrible with mohawks).  It isn't complex, why they are so important.  But it is profound.  The make us do.  And for anyone like me who has felt the frozen-in-place all the time un-doing of depression, these sweet fur and feather babies are indispensible.