This morning when Amy came into my room after my shower, we had some lovely warm eye contact.
For breakfast we had almonds and yogurt with blueberry puree and maple syrup — I made a smiley face with the syrups on hers. Amy also had a bit of cereal. There were several moments that called for “That’s a shame” or similar boring acknowledgments. None escalated.
The commute to school was uneventful and peaceful. Today was the last day of BSF, which is a sharing day — people taking turns with the mic to talk about their year in BSF. I got several entrelac diamonds done while listening. I was bummed to miss the final fellowship at my leader’s home; fellowships are kidless, and I didn’t have childcare for Amy after school.
We went to Potato Creek State Park for our picnic lunch, which was lovely in its vast bird- and insect-punctuated quietness, except I forgot that it’s $5 admission.
Amy played while I ate my salad — she’d eaten her sandwich, carrots, and apples in the car — and then we played together a bit. She was frightened by the wooden climbing structures — the wood is rough and she got several splinters, the cracks between boards made her nervous, the ladders scared her, and as much as she wanted to try the swingy bridge she couldn’t bring herself to step onto it.
She wanted me to just lift her up onto platforms and then lift her down again, but instead I told her I would help her climb up and down. There was some comfort holding between tries. And once she had the splinters I did lift her down the last bit.
She also panicked when I was swinging; she thought I was going too fast and too high. She’d similarly panicked on a playdate when her friend was swinging fast and high, too. I reassured her and kept swinging, and eventually she calmed and saw that I really was fine, just like her friend had been.
We had a lovely little hike along part of a trail that went partly by the widely flooded creek — saw blueberry plants, one trillium in bloom, some may apple, some wild violets, and bunches of things I don’t know the name of. Then she got a little spooked thinking about ghosts behind the trees and we headed back to the car.
It was past naptime when we got home. She was unduly delaying coming in from the car, so I went into the garage, removed her shoes for her, and carried her in — she protested, but again, it didn’t escalate.
The worst part was there was a phone message from her dance teacher that once again dance class was canceled. I’m not sure how many times we’ve had class two or more weeks in a row; I’m sorry that there was a death in the teacher’s family, and yet I confess I’ve been annoyed with the crazy scheduling.
More eye contact as she came out of her naptime, and as much as she didn’t like that I wasn’t wanting to play dance class with her, again it didn’t escalate much, and she’s been cheerfully going about her business while I write this.
Soon we’re off to the dining hall…
So what’s the difference? Good sleep? Good food? Cathartic and refreshing blogging and blog-conversation for me? The intentional eye contact? The not engaging in arguments? Just a different day?
Who knows… but it’s been rather a nice day.