I have some not-so-nice things going on in my head right now. I want, very much to blog about them. I want your perspective, your advice, most of all your warmth and encouragement. But every time I sit down to start writing, I get lost. I stare at the screen and my heart starts beating faster, my body starts to fidget and I walk away. I'm not sure where to start.
But I really need to try to focus a little on the good things right now as well. Of which there are many. I want to remember them. I want to think about them, acknowledge them, write about them. So that no matter how stuck in my head I feel, no matter how detatched, I know that there is plenty of wonderful, plenty of happy. Plenty to be grateful for.
Alexander and I have another little ritual of late. After he's had his bath, and is all rugged up in his pyjamas (I ask you, is there anything cuter than a little boy in his PJs????), we search for our slippers and sneak outside, just the two of us. We go out and sit on the side of the road, just near the park next door. He sits in my lap, his arm wrapped around my neck, his face pressed up against mine.
We sit and we look at the stars. We search for the Moon. We admire the big yellow orb when it is full, and imagine walking on it's powdery surface. We search for Venus, and talk about how much closer it is than the other stars. We seek out the Southern Cross, and as though tracing it's path, we point out the stars that make up it's cross.
We talk softly, of so many things. We talk a lot about family and love. Of how much we love each other. About how sweet and soft our family is. He asks me how long I'll be his Mummy and I say "Always". "What's always?", he'll ask. "Forever", I'll whisper, always tearing up at that moment, my arms tightening around him. "Oh. Thanks for being my Family", he smiles, as though he just needed to hear it once more. Does he know that I just need to say it once more? Tell him once more. We have this conversation maybe a dozen times a day. But this one, under the stars, as we listen to the birds settling down for the night and the crickets begin their song, is the most special.
I know he won't always want to sit in my arms and share this evening ritual with me. But I swear, I'm going to hang onto it as long as he will. For as long as he will grace me with the sweet, earnest boy that he is, I'll be there to whisper the same words of love.
I love you to the moon and back, sweet boy. Thank You for being my family.