I love how the frog in my picture looks aware, like he’s listening to everything around him, doing his best to avoid making the leaves crunch.
My original post deleted itself and I made the mistake of only writing it in WordPress so I have no backup. I know better. Oh well. I’d only been working on it for an hour — I can make up the time. Except I can’t in time, because Yom Kippur arrives in an hour.
I had to pick up Hoot and he’s now entertaining himself, hopefully long enough for me to say something worthwhile.
As I was lamenting my bad luck, walking to get Hoot, I reminded myself that I had gone into Yom Kippur last year hoping to be more patient this year, to rush less. Have I been more patient? I think so. Have I rushed less? I think so.
I don’ t think I deserve credit for that, though. I think it comes with my children getting older.
Hoot helped me recover my sense of calm this afternoon, as he so often does. He wore his flying shoes (batman slippers) out this morning but his running shoes home this afternoon.
“Go fast with me, Mama! Go fast!” he called, darting out the door of Mary’s house around the corner, where he spends about eighteen hours a week now.
I grabbed the stroller and ran to catch up with him. We ran around the corner and the stroller kept jerking. The tire’s a little flat.
“I can’t run, Hoot,” I said. “The wheel’s messed up.”
“I have my running shoes on, Mama! I can help you!” He took hold of the stroller’s handlebar and began running again.
Together we ran at a slow jog, and it bumped a few times.
“It’s okay, Mama, I have my running shoes on,” he said again. “We won’t fall down.”
And he was right.
I do have to hurry now, to pick up Wise. Proofreading be darned.