Suddenly we are a household of artists.
One and Two each have a spiral notebook that we have taken to filling with images from the day as we understand them.The beauty comes from watching the images emerge, and the narratives they share as they craft their understanding of the moment in questions.
In this particular case we were driving home from a delicious afternoon and evening with dear friends visiting from Texas. Fireworks were exploding overhead at the local baseball stadium as we drove past on the thruway. It was magical to put it mildly. Sam ‘s take on watching this above.
Marcel woke with the following observation; Mom that was sure was a treat driving through a fireworks storm like rain all around the car last night. About ten minutes ago he was walking around with blocks in his shirt announcing that he was about to have four babies; Michael, Spikel, Pikel and Ruby.
According to the family therapist who I have reconnected with recently to get more help with anger, rage, adoption issues (mine and his) Sam is deep in his magical thinking place. I understand that to mean–he sees the world in his own way—and often rationalizes things to work into his world view. For example, I love Uncle, Uncle eats dinner with us, lives with us, and will never leave me. Sam has been “testing” this theory by jumping (twice) in front of (thankfully very slow moving) cars in the parking lot when he is with Uncle. Scary? Indeed. But, now that we have one more way into understanding it, we feel empowered to help him. We also hold him like a barnacle on the bottom of a boat around all cars!
Next up: Father’s Day, Uncle Appreciation Day, Birth Father not in our lives Day, Donor Dad Day. So many options, so little time. And never the right card to capture it all.
To magical thinking, and all the ways we witness it.
To magical thinking indeed. And to getting the chills when I read a particular post (like this one, just now). Thanks, Catherine.
Love the spiral notebook idea, I may just steal it!
My daughter has a birth father in Ethiopia that she was very close to until I adopted her, and no Daddy here. I have no idea what I’m going to do on Sunday.