A Lull

There hasn't been much going on that has been blog worthy in our life. Other than, you know, the usual day to day drama which just isn't inspiring or anything that I want to actually waste time sitting down and typing. So far I've tried to avoid posts which just ramble on in "dear dairy" land, but today, honestly, I don't have any deep thoughts, and no share worthy crisis has rained down upon our heads. We have been becalmed, as they say. Isn't that a lovely word? Be...calmed. Becalmed. Caught in a lull, a cessation of wind and storm, so that we drift gently upon the waters and wait. There's no hurry. Every tiny thing becomes worthy of deep observation. The way the translucent spring sunshine baths the fields and how the grass stretches and pulls itself up and how the leaves uncurl and flex under its rays. It's calm and yet invigorating at the same time. The sun seems to dane on Leo's head, playfully turning his still growing back hair into a twinkling poof of light. The pressures of winter are less, things just seems less intense as the raw membrane of my soul starts to smooth and gain color, just like the world around me. (Gosh, I'm really not a winter person am I?)

Leo has been doing awesome. He has some seasonal allergy thing going on which makes his sleeping at night not so very awesome, but other than that (minor) nuisance, he is just blooming like the flowers outside. His therapists have had to do some remedial work with him after our vacation during which he apparently got spoiled up the wazoo, so the crack down has been teary. For him that is. I skulk in my sewing room during therapy and just wince at particularly vocal complaints that issue from the other room... 

But I'm also enjoying these last quiet moments with him, when they are quiet that is, because I've bitten the bullet, took the pill, grabbed the bull, whatever simile works here, etc etc, and signed the lion up for cub boot camp, or what is otherwise known as preschool for this fall. He will be assigned an aid to be with him all the time, and his therapists will go to the school and do his work there instead of at our home. This is a big milestone in our life with Leo, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I'm giddy with the thought of having mornings to myself, but also freaked out about not having him under my watchful eagle eye every single minute. However, I'm sure it's something I'll get over pretty quick once it is happening. 

It also doesn't help that our living situation for next fall is still up in the air so the actual school in the district that Leo will go to is not settled yet. Buying a house is really hard, you know? Especially if you aren't filthy rich.

I have absolutely fallen in love with this old (by old I mean like 1890s) town house up on the hill, and though it's not the country, and there are neighbors (that you can see!) this old house seems to speak to me...I can't stop thinking about it. Its got class; a certain kind of integrity that you can feel, and I can almost hear it calling out for some family to love it and bring it back to life. This is our third attempt at buying a house, and that is lucky right?? Part of being becalmed is finding the happy spot in the waiting game. There's nothing we can do right now, other then wait and see, and there is something happy about that. We've never bought anything like a house before. It is a crazy process, and waiting is a big part of it. So we wait. And right now it feels peaceful. It's ok. Being becalmed is just my thing right now. Who knows how long it may last? 

This Friday Leo has his skull bumps biopsy scheduled, and though the procedure itself is simple, not anything like his cranio surgeries, he will still have to be put to sleep and go through all that fun not eating anything for years thing. It won't be fun, but it is important for us to know what those bumps are and how next to proceed. We are hoping this sleepy springtime lull will continue as long as it can, but even if it doesn't and things get crazy again, I'll know that somewhere just beyond the storm is another wonderful stillness, just waiting for its chance to becalm me.