He sits belted in familiar confinement.
Spying his worn blue car-seat downstairs earlier, he had heaved and tugged it partway up the stairs, clunking, crashing, and grunting until I helped him.
“You want your car-seat upstairs?” I asked, surprised. The child seat had been left in the entryway temporarily, in between car shifts.
“Yes! Tant you, Mom,” he squealed.
Now, he munches a buttery bagel from deep within his belted blue car-seat, while cartoon ponies sing onscreen. The buckles and clasps have been shut by him.
A doctor visit, long fever, and two naps later, we have learned that he has mono. I didn’t know that three year olds got mono! Fruit juice popsicles, couch cuddling, and Lego men dances and battles made the afternoon race by.
A cuckoo clock jumps out the hour, and a blue sippy cup drains out last milk dredges. Robins outside warble continuously and sunshine lies long on the neighbor’s lawn. Summer twilights are leisurely and warm.
-a sick boy finding comfort in his mama’s arms, and in a blue car-seat that he buckles himself into
-an Abba Lord that I can clamber up on and buckle myself into too
-geese clamoring as they swoop overhead
-dandelion oceans bobbing fuzzy heads
-fresh-brewed coffee in my favorite cup
-God’s word laying open to Daniel
-hopeful news on houses and a chance to wait and trust again
-non-stop bird songs outside
Join me in counting gifts today, friend. Buckle into him and avoid buckling under.