A Moment

Just a typical morning here in the ‘burbs.  Older two trundle off to school, littlers with me.  One on my shoulders, chattering happily about how the car in the driveway we just passed has “magic glass” and how it’s made from magic and glitter and sandman’s sand and it takes bad dreams away. She made it, she tells me, using “glass magic” that she could tell me about but it’s a secret.  Littlest blows raspberries and amuses himself by dripping the juice from his sippy cup onto his vegemite toast.  When I pick him up later, I will get to deal with a soggy, sloppy mess and a hungry child.  He’s happy enough. Oldest was feeling the usual trepidation, stomach troubles, nervousness and anxiety that has plagued most of his short life.  It’s Thursday, so it’s his guitar lessons that he fears.  He’s the only scholarship student left in the program and feels isolated.  He has also forgotten to practice every week for the past 13 weeks.  Except last night.  I remind him of this, his head lifts, and I… Read moreA Moment