Wednesday, September 16, 2009

My Anchor, My Compass

We read Mike Mulligan and the Steam Shovel every night before bed. Most nights D7 lays next to me, his head resting on my shoulder. The more he gets to know the story, the more questions he asks. What happened to the other steam shovels? Where are the pictures of Kipperville and Kopperville? What does the word "rather" mean (Henry B. Swap smiled in rather a mean way)? J11 wanders around the room getting ready for bed, setting up his Bionicles, interrupting the story.

We read three books every night. D7 and I. I also try and read out loud to J11 every day.

Once stories are done, they each get a glass of water. I tuck them in. For just a minute I lay next to J11 and sometimes he tells me things. Things he is afraid of or worried about. Things that were said to him. I kiss him goodnight. I get up, walk to D7's bed. Lean over and his arms reach up and hug me. He always says, "I love you" first. Sometimes he asks me to stay and usually I tell him no, he's to old. But sometimes I crawl in with him and wait for him to fall asleep. Because sometimes he's that scared. Not often, but sometimes.

They anchor me. My kids. I think right now they are my anchor. I'm lost. I am. I'm lost and scared and lonely. I feel like I'm pushing hard towards something, towards somewhere, but that I have no idea what or where it is.

But when the kids come home from school. When they get up in the morning, or we sit and do homework. When I tuck them in. They anchor me, point me true north, plant my feet solid. I need them right now as much as they need me.

14 comments:

Green Girl in Wisconsin said...

It's lovely how our children give us that structure, stability, routine--I get what you mean. They add a lot of value.

Anna See said...

I wonder if they'll ever know how much they keep us going. This was a lovely post, and I want you to know I'm thinking of you.

Jennifer H said...

You are such a good mother...I love you and I promise everything will be okay.

This was beautiful...

phd in yogurtry said...

True north. That's a wonderful and true sentiment.

AnastasiaSpeaks said...

That's my favorite part of the day. Calm, quiet, thoughtful, loving. It's a time that the connection between us is at its most honest and real.

It's also a time that reminds me why being their mother is the most beautiful miracle that I'll ever know.

I understand how you feel. I've felt that lost in the past and getting through it was hard. But only you can find yourself. Find that happiness that will make you whole.

I wish that for you. That you will find your way. We're here to support you and listen to you.

Louise said...

I never crawl in bed with mine because I'll fall asleep before they do! This was beautiful, and I'm glad you all have each other. Your anchors are a beautiful thing.

Louise said...

On your other place that I can't leave comments for (because I'm too lazy to register, mainly), I love ALL of #4. And for #5--couldn't agree more about the Sharpies.

thecheekofgod said...

I can relate tot the lost feelings. They are ever-present, sometimes right up front, other times simmering on the back burner.

Finding is such a slippery thing . . .

Stacie said...

I think that we were separated at birth. I haven't blogged in a good long while and I then today I did. Then I did my usual and came right over here to your blog. I feel you sister. I feel you. Please call me.

Jenn @ Juggling Life said...

That is part of the joy of kids.

Cookie said...

Beautiful post! Those words ring true for me too.

kanishk said...

You are such a good mother.. Web hosting india

we_be_toys said...

They are such needy things, at first, even later on, but they somehow become that piece of your heart that you value most. Sometimes I feel like being a mom is all I'm really good at. All - pfft. And even then, there are days...

So, what do you want to be when you grow up? I haven't decided yet :)

Nora said...

This is lovely.