my boyfriend

He's not always his best self for me, my wild little Sol.  The past few weeks have been tough at home.  He screams about dinner, refuses to eat most offerings.  There's been a resurgence of nighttime bed-wetting and yet he despises Pull-Ups because they're for babies.  The laundry and rage were bringing us all a bit down.

On the flip side, Eliana has been in this very lovely, peaceful place.  She and I have engaging conversations and she can actually be somewhat helpful around the house.  She, too, gets frustrated with her brother yet she always starts each day loving him unconditionally.

Last night she had a dinner date with her bestie, and Sol and I had a stay home date together.  He asked for grilled cheese and while he was waiting for it to cook, he actually ate his whole plate of broccoli, all the while chatting about his buddies and asking sweet questions.

After dinner we headed outside with our swords and bikes.  He practiced tricks on the neighbor's driveway, speeding down the slope and then hopping the curb, skirting over the island, and then crusing back towards me, massive smile.  He'd then hop off his bike, pull his little plastic sword from his pants (nothing Oedipal here...) and challenge me in a duel.  After he won, he'd hop back on and head down the road again.  We shared an apple from the apple tree down the road, watched as the light began to change.

And then I took it up a notch.

Hey Sol.  You know how you did such a great job eating your sandwich and broccoli?  You know how you sat polietely and didn't get angry during dinner?  Well, I have an idea.

We hopped in the Honda and headed down the hill.  There was the longest train ever and, as we waited, the sky drew us back in.

Mama, that sky looks like heaven.  Have you ever been there, mama?  It's like pink and golden and purple just like the rainbow. 

No, babe.  I've never been to heaven.  

I stared at the train, the sky, my mind moving to my girlfriend who lost her brother this week, how sad and terrible and tremendous it all is.  I could hardly stand it, the beauty that held us still, slow train, dripping light.

We ate our ice-creams outside, basking in the last glow of the day.  We came home and snuggled in his bed, as I read the longest version of Peter Pan ever, the one with all the duels between Hook and Pan and Tinker Bell and her naughty thoughts.  At five thirty this morning, there he was again, cradled in to me like an animal, the way we've always fit on such an elemental level.  Even as I type this, he has found his way to me in the dark, lies across my lap like a primate, my chest on his back, his body in a little ball just like he likes.

Sometimes we need special time.  Sometimes we need a shift in perspective, something that knocks us from our routine, something that let's in the light.