Little Monkeys

16 Sep Little Monkeys

Posted at 16:54h in Communication by Christina 0 Comments

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Th Austin Zoo. So many types of little monkeys. My son absolutely LOVES the zoo. We stand with the spider monkeys (or some kind of monkey) and one little guy mimics everything we do. My son is really getting in to it.

I am like that for him. He does what I DO instead of what I say. How I live my life is teaching him every second. Cue Music

We are in the hospital. I am there extremely ill unable to breathe. I’m alone wondering how I am going to care for a two year old and sit in the hospital bed. I start to ask him (I can barely gasp out the words) if he wants to hear a story about pumpkins and pirates. (He has since added dinosaurs to the mix) a made up game we have played since he was a baby.

Sebastian looks up at the ceiling and smiles. “What beautiful person put those there?”

I sob. I sit in my little hospital gown and sob. I say that ALL the time. I try to notice the beautiful things in the world- I am always looking for them. They are there – everywhere.

Someone had put chinese lanterns and dragons above the hospital bed. It really was beautiful. That night we played Pumpkins, Pirates and Dragons.

That was a few months ago. Right at the beginning of a major change in my life.

When I wrote that post I had no idea what incredible things lay in front of me… how that evening with my son would begin a serendipitous ride toward more joy.

Yesterday at the airport EVERYTHING went wrong. It is hard to describe. We stood in line for one-hour as we watched several United Airline employees HATE their job. There were dogs barking as they waited to be put under the plan, families yelling at each other and one particular family opening all their suit cases and shifting clothing around to avoid the $50 overage charge. ONE customer service person and this family delaying things by 20 minutes. (seriously)

My son was not happy. He rarely whines and cries and he was soaking in the entire tension of the moment. Crying babies, barking dogs, a line, it is hot, they can’t find our reservation. I am just about to get my happy ass out of there and just go home.

I remembered my mantra: happiness is a choice. I started watching for what I liked in the line. I saw so much in all that human suffering.

We finally get on the plane and Sebastian is still crying. He is unhappy. He spills his drink and it gets on the feet of the woman behind us. My soup container spills on me. He loses his speed racer car and we can’t find it.

The woman behind me reaches through the seat and pats my shoulder. I cry as I write this. It was this very simple “i have been there” pat. She then whispers – “does your son like a-n-i-m-a-l crackers” (She spells it knowing that if my answer is NO DON”T GIVE THEM TO HIM he won’t be upset. She gives him a handful.

That pat. We don’t do it enough. For each other. For ourselves. I started telling Sebastian a WILD story about Metal roller skates and Red balloons. His mood changed. He started applauding and laughing.

Life is a choice. Thank you lady behind me.Â I promise to be you for someone in the next 24 hours.

16 Sep Little Monkeys

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