The whole day stretches gloriously before me. My daughter has gone for a sleepover at an English friend's place, and son and husband are fast asleep.
Last night we got some rare exclusive time with my son. He had the undivided attention of both his parents. Usually his sister, being younger, female and more talkative (goes with being female) grabs all the attention. If she doesn't get it she ensures she does, by her dramatic, in depth narratives, with action and sound effects. Husband says she is a mini replica of me, almost exact to the words she uses and the gestures and facial expressions that accompany her. Her eyes sparkle with joy. She is so full of life.
My son is the quintessential male. Typical response to "How was your day?' would be "The usual". All men are like that. He is almost as tall as me now and I cannot believe that his T-shirts fit me easily. Now I wear whatever he thinks isn't cool enough for him. They look good on me. I cannot believe that this is the same child I used to dress up and bathe and carry around in a sling and used to be teary eyed (me that is, not him) when he first left home to go to kindergarden for two hours. Now when we go out, he walks on my right and puts his arm around my shoulder to 'protect me'. He scrutinises what I wear and tells me sometimes to change. Of course I don't listen to him. He scowls. Secretly I adore that. He takes after his dad. :-)
I love the quiet I am getting at the moment. I soak it in. In a few hours my daughter will come back and there will be noise in the house. My son will invariably tease her and she will invariably whine and complain to me. I will invariably ask them to sort out their own problems. Then she will get her own back sometimes by cunning, sometimes by acting but mostly by just being her.
Kahlil Gibran said
"Your children are not your children. / They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself."
On this quiet sunny morning, reflecting and contemplating about my children, I can't help thinking how right he is.