On my run today I listened to a lot of Ray Lamontagne. I love Ray Lamontagne. I also love love love my orange ipod. Small pleasures.
I ran past my father in his little green Mini. Tall man, little Mini. Good man!
I thought about the ways I am truly an introvert. The activities that most women think of as social that I do, almost always, by myself:
- movies (though this is not as gender specific)
It was a gray day and is now raining hard. My poor babysitter has Grace, Whit, and a friend of Grace’s on the T and is taking them into Boston. For the adventure and to drop Grace and friend at a movie with two other friends and one (generous, optimistic) mother.
Whit had as big a tantrum as I’ve seen in years last night, crying inconsolably for a good 45 minutes. I realized after I finally got him to sleep that he is coping with a lot of transitions: new school, new schedule, new classmates, new teacher, new babysitter situation. Plus mercury being in retrograde and all (I love Diana’s blog).
And this morning, running and listening to Ray’s scratchy, soulful voice, I thought about how I hate transitions too. How I hate change, that I fear anticipated change even more than the real thing. Of course Whit is freaking out. He is my kid. Of course he acts out by spitting, screaming, and calling names. I guess I do an adult version of that. With a lot more tears and less spitting. And I am not super proud of that behavior. What he needs – and I am, I guess, pleased that I figured this out last night when I gathered him into my arms and just held onto his shouting, sweating, red-faced, shaking body for a while – is just what I need in these times, which is for someone to say: It’s okay. Everything will be okay. I guess what we all need when we are afraid is shelter. As Ray sang about this morning (oh yes, the inelegant it all ties together! I am no Ondaatje, that is for sure!)
So this Friday I am thinking about change, about Minis, about the October half marathon, about Ray Lamontagne, about who shelters me, about the rain falling outside my window that mirrors my mood.