So I’ve come to that point in this process where, in the long stretches of no information, one starts letting themselves begin to imagine. What will our family look like once our final member arrives home? As we go through our day to day, I blur my vision enough to factor in one more tiny body. How are we interacting with others? What is our impact on the world around us?
Let me tell you, the vision I conger of our mommy/daughter date to the library last Tuesday night is frightening to say the least. Me, with scarf and dreads a flying in the driving rain, clasping the hands of two small children, one of whom is toddling, unsteady in her stiff new shoes; the other who wears her coat backward with the hood catching wind and covering her face, hampering her ability to make forward motion. A 50 pound African basket of our chosen children’s princess and ballerina library books rides on my arm, and I have a coffee and a snack in tow. We are making our way to a quiet dry spot for coffee time and story time. Keep in mind, that the only imagined part in that scene is the toddling child and I may have exaggerated a bit when stating the basket was 50 pounds.
We fall into the soft cushion of the comfy overstuffed chair and set up camp on the small occasional table perched beside it. The good news is that there is plenty of room on my lap and heart for two to cuddle, and together we forget the rain and jump into the adventures held within the borrowed pages of our first library book.
Pausing at one point to sip our “coffees” (Devi’s is steamed milk, and I imagine so will Treya’s) we take in the weathered world outside through the picture window that faces us. Cars rush through puddles, throwing water up over the curbs. Trees jutting from the sidewalk planters sway, and their delicate new spring leaves twist and turn in the gusty wind. Devi notes that a couple of bike riders are wearing helmets, which is called being responsible. I wonder what Treya will notice?
Glancing at the time on the gigantic clock on the wall, we are shaken back into reality, the time indicating that we need to head for home. A warm bath and our pajamas await us. While packing up, Devi decides which two of the new books she would like to have daddy read for bedtime. Pausing she ponders, if I choose two books and Treya chooses two books, does that mean we get four books at bedtime?
I guess that goes to show that I am not the only one who has begun to imagine.