“Hurry, hurry, drive the fire truck,
Hurry, hurry, drive the fire truck,
Hurry, hurry, drive the fire truck,
Ding ding ding ding ding!”
It’s a children’s song we learned from Ms. Rachel—one of Lydia’s favorites—but also semi-reflective of certain states of mind? Rushed… chaotic… random alarms at the end… 😆
I was in fire truck mode on the way to school drop off today, “Hurry, hurry!!” lost deep in my own thoughts on a random subject. Lydia was chattering away in her own jibberish like she does in the seat behind me. I wasn’t paying any attention at all, until I caught the slightest giggle & pause.
“Kaboo!” Giggle.
‘Kaboo’ is Lydia’s shortened version of “peek-a-boo,” & I realized w/ a start, when I turned my head to see her face buried in her winter hood, that she was actively trying to play a game w/ me on the way to school.
Having no other words at her disposal such as, “Hey Mom, look at me!” like a typical 5 year old would use, or “Mom, I need you,” these giggly moments are bids for attention that she throws out. And I had almost missed it. Lost in translation & the weedy ways of my own distracted thoughts.
The magic of knowing someone like Lydia is that they teach you how to notice, how to feel, how to care—about all the subtle things & people that we normally miss.
Is the sun in her eyes? I better fix that, because she won’t tell me. Is she upset or acting out of character for some reason? Better play back the day & figure out why.
What makes her happy? Have you ever NOTICED how satisfying different textures are when you run them through your fingers or when you dangle a ribbon in the light just so? Or how soothing it is to be rocked in a swing under the trees for hours?
Does she love me? It’s in the way she plays w/ my hair, starts a game, whines when I’m in another room & the door is closed between us. Believes me when I tell her a procedure might hurt but I will be there & things will be alright.
Little things. Little, little, things that contain worlds of significance. Teaching me compassion, teaching me joy, teaching me presence one moment at a time.