and then more

I sit next to him most mornings with an alarming level of gratitude for coffee.  And for children.
Even him, the early riser.  Especially him.

He eats “make believe” for breakfast and breathes “let's pretend” until lunch.
He spins stories that engage, and after getting Tuck out the door to school, after I refill my cup and after I eat my eggs and after a few wait just a minutes and not right this seconds, I love being able to say Yes. Great idea. Let’s play!
We build Lego boats and Playmobil zoos and we banish dragons along with almost any sense of anxiety to be more productive.  His smile pulls my thoughts away from that thing I need to finish, his imagination helps me summon a stronger sense of calm.  We play all of the fantasy games he knows, and then more that I didn't even realize existed.

I try not to spend too much time wondering if what I'm doing is the best use of my time on this planet.  I try mostly to do what feels good and right and purposeful, to trust that my choices will bring about positive results at some later, undisclosed date.  Often this commitment is a daily, teeth-gritting endeavor of tremendous faith and patience.

I sit next to his father most evenings with an alarming level of gratitude for bedtime.  And for boys, all of them.  Especially the big one.
Although it feels like we have been operating somewhere on the far end of the spectrum of tired, we close out most days with another Whew, we did it.  We gave them all of the love and energy we have, and then more that we didn’t even know was there.