Wednesday, July 28, 2010

The Voice of God

Every day for the past week and a half (save for Saturday and Sunday), I have taken the kids to the park by our house.

It's a nice short walk (I google-mapped -- it's .3 miles one way) but it has uphill parts (both ways even!) so it's a decent enough bit of exercise while pushing a stroller containing 2 children.

It's a particularly decent bit of exercise when you consider that I get absolutely no sleep at all anymore.  Lately Jack has decided that the only way he'll sleep is on his stomach and because I don't want to wind up in the newspaper, I don't let him sleep on his stomach at night when I'm sleeping, but during the day -- during naps while I'm watching him -- I don't mind it. 

So our nighttime ritual is me moving him upstairs from sleeping on his stomach on the sofa up to the co-sleeper on his back where he IMMEDIATELY wakes up and then nursing/comforting him to sleep until around 11 and then he wakes up at 1 and pretty much doesn't go back to sleep until 6, and Phoebe wakes up at 7.  So to say I'm moderately homicidal would be an understatement.  I just can't handle life most days.  I'm happy, but I catch myself thinking "GO TO SLEEP!" really really loudly at the kids when all I need is -- really all I need -- like 15 minutes to catch up and I just have to keep going. Exhausted.

Anyway ... when we get to the park, Phoebe doesn't much play on the toys, but she walks around, plays in the sand, and asks me for cheese and crackers (because she knows I bring treats with us).

We normally go in the morning, but because Phoebe had therapy yesterday morning we went in the afternoon.  The speech therapist recommended giving Phoebe Pop Rocks as a way of stimulating her mouth into movement.  Sounded good to me so we stopped at the liquor store on the way there for candies.

I grabbed some "fizzing" Skittles and a few other treats, along with the Pop Rocks.

When we got to the park, I tried one of the fizzing Skittles and determined it was probably too chewy for Phoebe to eat and put the pack back in my bag in the storage area below the stroller.  I gave Phoebe some Pop Rocks and she ate them, but it was complicated to get them to her because I had to dip my fingers into the pouch and then put them into her mouth (so as not to overwhelm her with a whole bunch of them).

I didn't really push the Pop Rocks, figuring she had a few so that was probably enough for the afternoon.

Pretty soon after we got there, a young girl about 8 or 9 years old came up to us and wanted to play with Phoebe.

The usual questions abounded:

"How old is she?" "2"  "How come she doesn't talk?"  "We don't really know"  "What's her name?" "Phoebe" "What's her nickname?" "Phoebs, Sissy, Mouse, a lot of things"

They played for awhile (Phoebe let the girl carry her around and go down the slide with her -- something she rarely lets me do) and eventually Phoebe discovered the Pop Rocks wrapper in my bag and wanted them.  The young girl said "Oooh I love Pop Rocks" and knowing that Pop Rocks really aren't the kind of thing to share, I handed her the bag of opened Skittles and said she could have those.

Her brother came over about 10 seconds later and pretty soon the two of them were eating the Skittles and I instantly imagined them telling their parents about the "nice lady at the park who gave us candy".  Great.

The little girl fed a few pieces to Phoebe (who ate them and chewed them well!) and the bag was soon gone (and soon after, the brother) and the little girl continued playing with Phoebe.

I was holding Jack and the little girl looked at me and said "Do them two kids make you happy every day?"

"Yes", I said.  "They do".

I was so touched by the innocent sincerity of her question that I've been thinking about it ever since.

I told Geoff about it last night because I just couldn't get the look on her face out of my mind and the simple way she asked.

And Geoff said "Maybe it was God".

Maybe it was.


Annie said...

*tear* So sweet.

katie disimone said...

the other day i was in the shower contemplating god. i wondered if my friends who have died are in heaven with a god. (my mom NEVER not once ever took us to church despite her being raised catholic) i did the typical thought to myself "if there is a god, then you should send me a sign that you exist and let me know sometime today." INSTANTLY INSTANTLY INSTANTLY my thoughts went "MY KIDS!!!" I took that as my sign. They are my "sign"