It Is Well....

With my soul.

I had never heard that song until I played it one Sunday morning just before we got to travel to Kaz. I like it. It is soothing. This morning, while engaging in the activity that makes all things clear again (aka a shower without someone hogging the tub which is getting more common as H takes up more room and doesn't want to share), my soul became well again. I realized I can weather the tumult that is H's complex life story because he trusts me and loves me. Sometimes I just need a while to process these things.

Saturday was a fun filled wonderful day. We did our errands (two trips to Sam's and yes, H knows "Mommy, that says Sam's!) had a decent nap and played outside little kid style - with water, in the dirt, filling the kiddie pool, hauling trucks, buck nekked - as they say around here. H has been wandering around outside more and more without shoes (and frequently without clothes - for some unexplained reason he has to take all his clothes off when we get home from school.) Well, Sunday morning it seems he had a sliver in his foot. Not much to be done about it other than try to remove it.

Now here I get to interject: do you know what happens when your best pair of tweezers are put into a light socket? They trip the breaker, the plugs, and melt the tweezer tips. Bummer. I think they were about twenty years old and had just the right amount of grasp. I digress.

So, we sit in the kitchen. Mommy on the floor, H in Daddy's lap wrapped tightly in his arms to reduce squirming. Even before I can begin the procedure H begins crying and squirming. Crying and squirming, crying and squirming. Crying harder - tears begin streaming down his face. Mommy trying to determine if it is indeed a sliver or just a cut - dang this needing bifocals thing as it becomes impossible to really be accurate. I'm sure it hurt a bit but H was more plain frightened than anything. This came right on the heels of getting TWO shots Thursday at the doctor's office. He cried with tears streaming down his face then, too. Then he wouldn't walk and said his boo boo's hurt. By the time we got home, they felt well enough to take off the bandaids but he still walked stiff legged. It was quite a show.

Anyhow, after determining that I did all that I was going to be able to do, you would think H would want to stay wrapped up safe in Daddy's arms away from Mommy who's been probing his foot with s sharp pointy object. But nope, the nanosecond I stopped, H leaned down with tears streaming out of his eyes reaching his arms out for me to take him and just hold him. We sat there for a long time on the floor together. I just held him quietly in my lap. H knew he was safe and protected and loved.

I have cultivated this from day one. He is safe. He is protected. He is loved. He can come to me when he's hurt, angry, happy, sad, wild, scared, and everything in between. It just took one long morning shower after feeling disconcerted to realize that we will get through this together. If he will reach for me at such terrifying moments now, hopefully he will reach for me later when things get more complicated in his world.

I am his mommy.