Wonder had a rough day. For various reasons, none of them seemingly important, but at the same time, devastating.
- He was having a hard time skateboarding.
- His knee pads wouldn’t stay up.
- He wanted to play catch AND skateboard. He couldn’t.
His crying came in sudden waves: unexpected. He’s a pretty joyful kid. So, I paused. I leaned in. I held him.
How many times are our days like this — sudden explosions of anger or sadness that could be solved if someone took a moment — just one — to hold us. To give us space.
But the holding isn’t easy. We have feelings of our own. Frustration. Hunger. Jealousy. Why isn’t the world holding us?
But the thing is, when we reach down to hold, when we give in and give out, someone holds us back. Warm and soft.
And then they kick us. But just a little bit because they can’t find the words for the biggness of it. We sit on the tile until the anger disappears into the weight, and our bodies sink into each other. When we try to find the words, the dog jumps on us to lick our faces.
We get up. We move on. We skateboard.
Keep creating,
Kate