Chai tea, a banana muffin…my spot on my couch. Taking a break from being taxi, letting them have some media time while I just soak in some calm before I attack the house with a Norwex cloth.
A beautiful thing happened to me today, a Native American flute arrived in the mail, gifted to me by a man who makes them by hand over at Tree of Life Designs. It’s made out of spalted alder and it sings deeply and beautifully in the key of A, mid A. It’s gorgeous.
I came upon a love for these flutes by chance. I sing at an online open mic website called The Stage. Someone named Didgerod came on and started playing this beautiful music with all these world instruments. I felt myself more relaxed and less stressed after listening to him play. I’d almost crave it.
It’s music that I typically didn’t like when I heard it on CD. The kind of stuff you might hear at a spa or perhaps some people would call it “New Age”….which is a silly term for this music, seeing these instruments have been around since ancient ancient times. Seeing a person play this music, listening to him talk about it and starting to understand the place that it comes from has opened my eyes, once again, to something new. It’s beautiful.
Anyway, I feel blessed that someone gave me this flute and I’m going to enjoy playing it. Just listening to the beautiful tones that come out of it makes me happy. Thank you to Ed for blessing me with your craft.
And don’t worry friends who are Christians…I haven’t gotten in to some weird religion…I don’t need to be receiving emails :).
So moving from calm things….I took the kids to the pool yesterday. Three hours of non stop fun in the water ended with 20 minutes of total melt down in the change room. Luckily it was a private family change room where at least they didn’t have to see us. The acoustics, unfortunately, were rather amazing…sending his shreeking vibrating through the walls. At least I couldn’t see anyone’s icy stares as my son cried for chips.
Why chips? I never get him chips. He was stuck on it and I had to remain calm to help him be calm. I almost thought that once I opened the door there’d be a crowd standing outside giving me an ovation and a metal for keeping my cool the entire time. No such luck. I guess the empty hallway was a blessing.
I had a plan, Isaac could play in the playhouse while I kept Silas calm.
It gets more obvious as he gets older. Mother and five year old son on a bench, rocking and rocking and rocking. Mother and five year old in the playground…restraining son as the world continues to go on around them…mother bleeding from a scratch, son screaming.
This weeks Parenthood shed a light on that. Max had a melt down at a theme park and his dad knelt down and held him as, what seemed like hundreds of people watched as they walked by. I’ve been in that place so many times. It’s so good to see it out there, for everyone to see. Max isn’t a brat, Max has autism. Silas isn’t a spoiled brat who eats junk food…Silas has autism.
It was ok, though. Isaac was wonderful, although scared, and he held it together for me while I got everyone dressed and out the door. He did cry a few times but as I was putting on his shoes he held my face in his hands, looked me in the eyes and gave me the most glorious eskimo kiss. Almost as to say “Mommy, stop, I’m here, I love you and we’re in this together”. He’s an angel.
Anyway. A calm is upon us now…I should go find that Norwex cloth and get shakin.