Story #fiveminutefriday


Five Minute Friday

After being sick for five days Anthony is finally on his feet and learning new ways to crawl under my skin.  It's been one of those days, when he has pushed all my buttons and I've yelled and felt like a failure, but as he lays on the ground next to me lifting his feet with me and I work my lower abdominal muscles I forget all the things he has done imperfectly.  He's a baby, he's my baby and I love him the way that love is.

The dishes have piled up and everything I put away Anthony takes out again so I give up and try and scrape off the bits of left over dinner from the plates.  My honey lemon ginger chicken took a bad turn when I tried to thicken the sauce with corn starch, not understanding that a little goes a long way and poof, ruined chicken with thick goo rolling around the edges.  The dog wouldn't even eat it and I scrape, scrape, scrape into the hog slop which will feed the pigs and then feed us.  That's the circle of things, all coming around and around.

I guess that's what happens when life is lived and we move from day today.  The chicken comes out less than delicious and the carpet needs vacuuming but the lemon grass tea is cool and sweet and the toddler is mooing every time I saw the word cow which I keep saying over and over.  These are the days and this is the story of my life and there are no regrets, not really.  For as much as I like to pick apart the past and fix my mistakes if it meant giving up just one day with this little boy I'd fail again and again, just so I could succeed with him.

There is no color for happiness.  It's sights and smells and touch and the way Anthony screams "Daddy" with glee when Paul walks in the door and the way the starlight brightens the road, rendering my flashlight needless as I run down the road with my dog, remembering the moments of my day, the story of my life.  Perfectly imperfect, like the bittersweet of dark chocolate melting against the roof of my mouth.  Maybe just perfect.

2 comments:

  1. This is so beautiful and sweet, so honest and perfect. I remember those days when my daughter (now three) was just a baby. It felt like they would last forever. I would get so frustrated, and I had failures, but in the end I would have done it over and over again. And, eventually, we moved on to the next phase, and the next, and the next. (I still try to remind myself of the phase thing, actually. These tantrums? Just a phase. The pushing? Just a phase.) Oh, and, yes, pulling everything out of the cupboards? Also just a phase. One that seems to last forever, but it really doesn't. In the meantime, get some video footage of her tearing the whole kitchen apart. Grandparents love that kind of stuff. It makes them feel vindicated when they see our kids treating us like we treated them once upon a time. :-D

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  2. "Perfectly imperfect, like the bittersweet of dark chocolate melting against the roof of my mouth. Maybe just perfect." <-- this :) I get this! You inspire me every time I find time to read... hope you had a good weekend with your little one.

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