Someday

That's the book Calvin wants to read at bedtime every night these days, and it makes me cry. I know I'm overly emotional sometimes anyway, but wishing for so much in his future and thinking of him long after I'm gone just makes me cry. Especially when so much is changing, or about to change in his little life. And I don't feel adequate for the impact I may have. Penelope needs so much right now, and Calvin wants so much, and tonight he's exercising his best I want Daddy, you get away from me, tantrum and tears. And as his mom, I should be able to withstand this, and not get transparently sad. But what will this be when daddy's not ever here? How angry will he get? Am I being unbearably selfish?
And just as I despair, the spell is over, and he comes back to me. But how long will that last?
All parenting is filled with equal measures doubt and optimism I guess, and a good dose of wonder too. I'll put this down to being tired and still sick with whatever they both had last week. A wavery sort of night. Wondering what Someday will really bring us. I never expected it would bring this turn of events. So who's to say. Trying to remain hopeful is about all there is to do.

To Flee

Why is the idea of cutting and running so appealing? And simultaneously soul destroying? What's left in between is what will happen. I wish I knew what that was.

Lately life has been filled with more of the things I love than usual. Cycling and riding and hiking and swimming and in general basking in summerness outdoors. And yet it's no closer to right. Still, I guess that's progress of a sort. Tonight I hope to get out and see the Perseids. Since the light over the back door is burnt out (it's too high up for me to replace, sigh) I won't even have to tiptoe down the drive for the best viewing. Ha. There's a positive slant to everything if you try hard enough to find it.