Oops. Today we took a tumble. I was carrying you to preschool from the truck and went right over a cement barrier. I feel as though we were carried down, because you landed with your head in a small patch of grassy dirt, with cement on one side, and a cement flagpole base on the other. The fact that your head landed on 10 inches of softer dirt humbles me. Again, like once something happening in my truck in Toronto, I did not control the fall, as I didn’t control the maneuver that saved my life in Toronto. It was grace again, something else guiding my fall, or maybe rearranging molecules for a softer landing. I felt no rush of adrenaline or anything. I feel strangely calm. You’ve got a bit of a red mark on the back base of your skull, but no lump as of yet. After your tears, you seemed yourself, happy to be at school. I’m so sorry I didn’t see the barrier today. I’m usually pretty good about those things. I’m so grateful for the unseen assistance that landed you where you did. It could have been much more serious. I love you so much my dear, dear son. Last night, I really enjoyed our cuddle in bed as I gave you a bottle. You seem to be warming up more and more to me, leaning on me, and I must confess, as much as I hate losing sleep, I’m getting to the point where those cuddles mean more than sleep. Never thought THAT day would ever come. Thank you for completing bulldozing my paradigms.

Well, I got your blue swing back in action and oh my gosh, you were gleefully in it for about a good hour. Every time I stopped you, you signaled more. Finally you signaled you wanted out. Man, its so good to be able to understand a few things with you. You seem none the worse for wear from our little tumble. I’m sure you might feel a bit stiff at some point. I on the other hand am beginning to stiffen up quite a bit. Nothing a hot bath won’t cure J.

Dearest John. I love you. Thank you for helping me to really tune in and listen to someone else. I love you.

Nonconformitosis is coming soon. . . . . :)

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