Am I Ready (2 Be Loved)

It’s funny the way these weeks now take on themes and songs and moods and vibes. It’s been another weird week. I can’t say we’re all healthy yet because whatever the ick is, it finally got Cassidy. His virus seemed to have taken the freeway straight into a sinus infection. Scarlet and I have had weird headaches, but mostly hormones and sinuses getting in the way. Gloomy rain and some doomy gloomy feelings, but then of course, all the little (advent calendars, anyone?) and big (Georgia runoff, anyone?) sparkles and delights have taken over. Then on Monday, our neighbor and friend was in a diaper jam so I took the boys to Target to get her diaper order and get us out of the house. On Tuesday, I got my third Iced Snow Mint Mocha from the local bagel shop which is EXACTLY how I think a Hallmark Christmas movie would taste in a cup. So then I got three others, so I could bring them to the wonderful staff at the local bookstore/art school.

See? That’s some serious Hallmark action right there. We always think that the coffee drinks in Christmas and Valentine’s Day Hallmark movies must taste like magic in a cup, but most of the time, they don’t even bother to put anything in those cups in the movies. Just empty cup props! It’s nice to fill that idea of magic in the most wonderful way. Whipped cream and crushed candy canes and drop-in surprises to baby/toddler storytime at the bookstore. There were four babies there, all recently recovered from RSV, so we felt like we all had a brief breath of fresh air. I didn’t even mind babies I had never ever met climbing on me. It made me smile to think of little ones looking for a safe space to climb. I am a safe space to climb, and it was charming to see babies climb over us/one another. The littlest (Sawyer) didn’t even bat an eye. The trust and the wonder.

I went to take a shower, with the boys just right outside the door, but I had a gripping fear while in the shower that somehow Rider would hurt Sawyer. He’s only two and we know toddlers can be demons. He’s been known to throw his shoe at my head while I’m driving or rip pine needles off the Christmas tree and pile them on the poor cat. I thought of this while showering, because it was quiet; too quiet. So I ran out of there, shampoo and conditioner mixed in my hair, leaving my wet footprints on the floor, to see that Sawyer had fallen asleep on the floor with his thumb right in his mouth, and Rider had just quietly wrapped himself back to back against his brother.

I feel like we’re skating on thin ice lately. I’m skating. It’s thin and it’s scary and deadly, but oh so sparkly and exciting too. Veer this way and avoid the flu and COVID. Glide in one direction, away from the RSV that’s gotten us so down. I skate as fast as I can for someone who doesn’t know how to stop or brake. I can messily turn and messily grab the edges of the skating rink ledge, before upending onto my back or worse. Every crack in the ice is reminding me of the mental illness I suffered so badly after Sawyer was born. The cracks go deep, but they’re filled in with delicious peppermint candy cane mochas, yo yo clubs, baby smiles, and warm family members; warm huskies in bed. It will never be the smooth, clean, unblemished ice that it used to be, but maybe it’s better this way. My ice skates can cut or turn on the same cracks over and over, but maybe this time, I don’t fall. Or I take a brand new path. And that feels trusting and wondrous.

I loaded both babies into the car the other night, on my way to get Scarlet from her jazz band. Maybe we all three needed to air out a bit, amidst Christmas lights and early darkness. I put on Lizzo radio and “About Damn Time” came on at the beginning of the 10-12 minute car ride. “I like this song!” Rider said when it ended. Then, it was “2 Be Loved (Am I Ready).” We pulled into the school lot as the song ended. It was quiet. Then a little voice piped up: “Am I ready, Mama?”