That apple is big enough and so am I

Today while getting dressed in the morning to head out to Spanish class, Mica was facing me as I knelt down beside him and he kept standing up right there in front of me and taking his little fists and pressing one on each side of my jaw. I could see the effort in his face, his grimace, the determination.

"No talking, Mama. No talking."

I know how to take a hint.

So I was quiet.

I didn't even want to hear the things I was saying. So I didn't talk when finishing up getting him dressed. I brought him his boots. I lifted them up so he could see them. He agreed and put his feet in. And so on.

I didn't talk while we were getting in the car. I didn't talk while we were driving. I noticed my stomach, whether or not it was relaxed. I noticed what my mind was doing — worrying, planning, thinking. I noticed my stomach, and let it relax.

We got to Spanish class and Mica burst into tears when he took his coat off because he still had his pajama top on (which he had told me he wanted to wear).

I held him while he cried and told me he wanted to go home.

I asked him if he was so surprised when he took off his coat and saw his jammies. If he had forgotten and now changed his mind.

He nodded and cried and cried and told me that he wanted to go home.

I asked him if he wanted to get a new shirt at home and he said yes.

I told him I wasn't willing to drive home.

He cried and cried and I wiped away a tear and he told me, crying more tears, "Don't wipe my tears! I don't want you to wipe my tears!"

I noticed my stomach, how it was tense, and let it relax.

I held him and asked him if he wanted to borrow a shirt from our friends (our class is in our friend's home).

He said no. I thought about how we were keeping class from starting. I worried about how to solve the situation. I noticed my stomach, it was feeling worried, and then I let it relax.

I spoke softly and told him how comfy and wonderful those jammies are, at least to me, and that I've seen lots of kids wearing them — the same ones — out of the house, at the store, at the park, at their friends' houses.

He shook his head, swatted at me, and cried. Doesn't matter.

I told him I was going to ask our friend for a shirt and he didn't protest, but then when she brought him one he yelled and threw it and said, "No!"

I said, "No, thank you" to our friend.

She brought another shirt, and the same thing.

He nursed. He and I sat together. I noticed my stomach. I noticed my thoughts. I noticed us sitting together.

And then he was done, and he wanted to read books.

He kept his pajamas on, for the second time that day.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

After eating lunch and playing with our friends at Spanish class, we were in the car on our way to acrobat class and Mica told me he was hungry.

I had one apple to offer and I handed it to him and Orlando said he wanted to have bites too and they started saying "You had two bites! That's enough! Give it back to me." and "I want it!" and "You've had it too long!" and "You're eating it all!"

And I remembered about not talking. And I remembered about focusing on things that feel good, so I thought to myself, "I am happy that my kids have so much good food to eat. I am happy they have this apple to eat. That we have this abundance."

Mica said, "Here you go, brother," and handed him the apple.

And then they were fighting again and I thought, "Jeez-Louise!" and then I thought, "I bet that apple tastes delicious. I am so happy my children have it."

I didn't say anything for once, and for once I didn't say, "Stop fighting over that stupid apple!"

When we arrived at acrobat class, Mica handed me the core.

I said, "Thank you."

photos by linsuehoo and muffet