when its 105

. . . no matter where you are in southern california, and it's 6:15 pm and what you really need is a stroll through the park i suggest gathering everyone up in the kitchen, on the floor, under the a/c, whipping some cream (with a pinch of vanilla), and eating berries on the floor. because berries are really good now. because fresh whipped cream always makes a picnic.

notice that owen is eating out the porcelain bowl with the big stainelss steel spoon and that the green froggy bowl and purple plastic spoon is mine. what you can't see is owen saying "cream cream cream" and giggling and leaning forward with the spoon (such a big sweet boy) and feeding me raspberries. at the end of the day after sticking his finger in the socket, chewing on the dog, headbutting me in the nose so hard i thought it may have broken, owen runs towards me with whipped cream kisses and gives me the best tackle hug.

and that's just it really. i've had all this anxiety about the kind of mother i am and the kind of son i'm raising. mostly because "no" turns into a singsong "no no no" with a headshake and a laugh and more of the same. and because i pick my battles. because i want to encourage a curious child. because i want the "no" to count. because i don't want owen to be raised in ahouse of "no." but the boundary is tough. all i can do is my best to keep danger away and to be an example of kindness. i write this here although i don't always feel like my best is good enough. but my realization today is just this: owen is joy. i can take that boy into a hospital room and he sings songs on the wheelchair. put him in the backseat of a hot car with a drooling dog and he just dances along to the radio. sit him on the floor of the kitchen and he just gives me love. if he wakes up at 1 am and ends up sleeping on michael's pillow and spends most of the night kicking me and pulling my hair he also finally falls asleep spooning me and when he wakes up it's with a smile. joy. absolute joy. and it's contagious.