i played with my baby.

anxiety (who sometimes feels like my constant companion) had made me low.  somehow she makes me less confident about myself, makes me question if i'm the person i want to be.  i guess i'm always looking for the reason she's there, even though it's like grasping at thin wisps of smoke.  i can always conjure up a reason that has to do with what's wrong with me.  clearly, not a productive path.  that path circles round and round, down and down.

but tonight i made a good choice.  i'd just put my kids to bed, except my baby, since he didn't seem quite ready.  so i decided to play with him.  we play a lot, mostly as we do things like getting him dressed, changing his diaper, and it's almost impossible to pick him up without trying to make him laugh.  but i don't usually set aside much one-on-one time just to play with him.  so this spontaneous playtime was a novel thing.  i hid his little keys under the blanket until he could find them in a second. he even hid them from me!  we played the xylophone and we played airplane (maybe his favorite) and he coyly ate a cheerio he found on the carpet.  i tickled his neck and cheek with my mouth and nose, and he returned the favor with a giant, slobbery, wide-mouthed, baby kiss!  we went outside and crawled in the grass, and felt the trunk of each tree, and before we went in, i let him ring the wind chime.  there's a little ceramic blue bird attached to the string, and he was enchanted with it, entranced almost.  i could sense how content and calm and loved he felt.  usually when i put him in his crib, he cries for a few seconds before he rolls over and falls asleep.  but tonight when i laid him down, he didn't cry at all.

his contentment and joy rubbed off on me.  i haven't felt this good all day.  in this journey, i've considered the impact of many of my relationships on my mental state, for good or for ill.  i'd never considered, though, the power of my relationship with my baby boy.  i feel so connected to him, and he sent anxiety packing, at least for awhile.  thanks, little man!

listening

when we talk to people, what is it that we do, exactly?  do we merely relay information?  do we smile and say a few words so we can then pass politely by and get on to whatever's next?  do we make trite comments about the weather or the family or whatever is going on around us?

or do we listen?  to listen, you first have to get someone to open up.  sometimes that's hard, and sometimes it isn't at all.  you could say something like, "how are you?" and really mean it.  do we make time to hear the whole answer?

do we really connect with that other person?  are we willing let them hurt if they hurt and to be with them for a moment in whatever it is they're going through?  do we even let them go through it, or do we make them pretend everything's great, so we don't have to feel uncomfortable, or so we can get home and vacuum the living room?

sometimes it's the most lonely in the middle of a bunch of people.

sometimes those people are even smiling and talking to you.

sometimes they even love you.

almost home

my husband has been gone for almost five days and i've been alone with the three little ones.  i thought we were coping pretty well until yesterday, when the anxiety hit pretty hard.  today's been worse, with no relief at all.  i don't know if i'll ever get used to these feelings.  i just don't know what to do with them.  also, my phone died.  talk about feeling cut off from the world!  i wonder how i'll feel when he gets home.  relieved, i hope, and happy.