This weekend was about seeing the center of it all.
Green juice with sprouts. Greasy diner hash browns. ( Not at the same time of course.) A little of this, a little of that. Right through the center.
Read an article on how French children are better behaved than American kids. Well. Mine (4 and 6) seem pretty well behaved. They know how to clean up after themselves. Are rarely rude. Do not watch a lot of TV. Can sit in a car for three hours with nothing but an out-of-reception radio station. (I would love to plug the ipod in, but our old car doesn't offer such amenities. And no, they can not play on our iphones the whole way!) My kids also say poo and stinky-poo-butt-head at the dinner table from time to time and lick bowls of ice cream clean. They run naked through the house screeching in joy, but only in between sips of green juice. See? A little of this, a little of that. Right through the center.
Also this weekend we mourned the loss of our kitty who disappeared three days ago. She was the relaxed center of the household and without her around our hearts are heavy. We have no trace of what could have happened, though she was out at night and we can only imagine the list of sad scenarios. We hope she is still alive and well and eating at a quiter household or perhaps on her way back from a long adventure. It is a possibility.
My older girl is especially sad. She cried so hard last night and there was that horrible parental feeling of not being able to take her pain away. I so wanted to try and brush it away with...something. The promise of another kitten or a cookie, perhaps? But, no. I let her cry and held her knowing all too well that that the experience of loss must be felt through the center so that when we come into our joy again, we know we've held nothing back to get there.
