family
Accepting... By Kelsey Cunningham
Over the weekend I
sat with my oldest son on our living room couch after he woke up from his
afternoon nap. I stroked his hair and felt him sigh and lean into me. Finn
needs time to transition. Time and quiet.
He asks for a story
and I say yes, of course, and he brings me one out of the book basket.
He settles back into
the crook of me and pulls up his legs.
I peer at my son out
of the corner of my eye and see him smile as Travis the tiger chases the
peacocks and hear him draw his breath when Prewitt is asked to leave his flock.
He lays his head on my shoulder and I wrap my left arm around him so that I can
brush back his hair, sweaty and hot from sleep off his forehead and I kiss the
side of his head. He smiles and bats me away.
Read Mommy.
I often say that the
world is a little too loud and moves too fast for Finn.
Although there are no
adjectives to accurately describe my beautiful firstborn, I sometimes use flat,
typed words to call him “intense”, “sensitive”, “an old soul”.
For the first two
years of his life I worried that he was too different. Now I read those words
and smile.
Too different?
Of course he is.
I worried that he
would never talk and then when he talked I worried when he repeated words, then
phrases, over and over again; rolling the sounds around in his mouth.
I worried that he
could not throw or catch a ball or that he did not want to ride in a Cozy Coupe
or on a trike.
I worried that he
would never stop crying when he was dropped off at daycare and worried that his
tantrums were more intense than other children’s’.
But months later,
after my second son was born, an easy boy with red hair who laid placidly on my
chest, I guess I stopped worrying.
I didn’t have time.
I let go of my fears
and although life threw other curve balls at us,
We accepted. And learned.
Learned that there is
no mold, no model, no box for our children.
I write these words
now and I want to bang my head on the keyboard and laugh.
What seemed so trying
at one time is now a nonissue.
And so that is how we
live our life,
riding the ebb and
flow that is parenthood. Acknowledging tough times while stoking the hope that
resides in our heart, that life will, someday be easier,
although emptier
without our children
at home.
Accepting brought us
peace. And with peace came gratitude.
Gratitude that we learned our lesson before it was too late. Gratitude
for small moments. Gratitude for
our children, our different children.
Last night as I
brought my youngest son down to say goodnight to my husband and Finn I remarked
that I hoped bedtime would go smoothly, at least more smoothly than the past
few nights.
Ha! Curt said. Sure,
okay. You can hope that. Be glad he wants you now Kelsey.
Of course.
Of course I’m glad.
A year from now I
will remember Cal’s sleeping issues and smile, just as I did once before. Have
done many time before.
A year from now I
will brush back his hair and smile and put my lips to his temple and I will be
grateful that I had
those moments, just as I am grateful now.
