Tag: connection

Potato Pressure

The difference a day at school makes!

This evening, I was in the kitchen peeling potatoes, and I hear a kerfuffle at the baby gate to the kitchen. I hear Robbie saying to Faye “get back you vicious beast” (my words!!) and “only adults allowed out here.” With that parting shot, he slips through and joins me.

I was so brave, my hand was so exposed

I bravely held a potato whilst he (shakily and scarily) peeled it, all the while chattering away:

“I’m not talking to Keira (his TA at school) ever again.”

“Robbie, you said this earlier. You have to tell me why.”

“I can’t remember. Trying to remember is blowing up my imagination. Can you stop making all that noise peeling so that I can think please?”

I, and my starchy hands, wait. Robbie stands against the fridge with his eyes closed.

“She stopped me running away.”

“Do you think she was bad to stop you running away?”

“No.”

“Well then, this is unreasonable. Where were you trying to go?”

“Nowhere. I was just trying to be a runaway. Get it? Runaway. Like a runaway train.”

Picks up my blood pressure monitor on the side – the byproduct of some delightful genetics.

“Are you going to take your blood pressure?”

(I didn’t even know he knew about this)

“I’ve done it, shall we do yours? It doesn’t hurt.”

“But I’m not fat.”

“Do I look fat then?”

He actually looks at me.

“NO! You look wonderful. Your butt looks wonderful too!”

Threads

Robbie making some “crazy poses for you to take a picture of!”

After asking for “a few more weeks off”, Robbie eventually accepted his fate and got out of bed this morning. The key to tricky school mornings is to sweep him along in the routine, bit by bit, so that by the time he realises what’s happening, he has already come to terms with the fact that he’s going in.

I bought him this gorgeous book called “Threads” by Torill Kove. I highly recommend it! It’s about how we are all linked with threads of love as we move through life.

We read it for the first time yesterday, and Robbie ran to the window to look outside and “see the threads.”

This morning, Robbie sat and read the book to himself. I asked, “Robbie, what are the threads?” He said “they are how we are all connected through love. I’m connected to you and Daddy.”

“Erm, what about Faye?”

“Only when she’s good. When she’s bad, the thread bounds off through the cosmos.”