My eldest son is very protective of his little brother. I will find his brother on the floor in his room after a nightmare. He is loving and very sensitive but at times you would not know that because it takes him longer to process directions. My younger son just hangs on to his brother’s shirt tail as if he is feeling out the situation before he acts. Are they scared of me? Saturday morning brings the normal traffic. The smell of coffee and pancakes.
This is my happy. It trickles out of a crack like a slow leak. It is not completely filling up but it immersing just enough to feel favorable. As valuable as I feel right now as a mother my peacefulness swiftly changes.
I begin to navigate the day. I sit at my desk with an expectation I await for daily. It is a little piece of accomplishment but every day I wait. I have no control over it. It haunts me as every day passes. I let it consume my animus like a black cloud that hovers over desenegrates and fills me up again with dark ash. Just as peaceful as it began it ended. I am now sensitive to every noise that encompasses me. The boys running in and out of the house. My husband tinkering with whatever is on his agenda today. We are now going to start the pumpkin carving. My controlling nature does not mix well with their screams and gentle laughter. I know they feel my tension through the fun. I still have my cloud but as my activities change and increase the trickle of glee might start to drip again. I am controlled by my surroundings and the things I cannot change.