As the afternoon sun hit my family room windows today, I was sitting and holding and rocking Little D and the coolest shadows of tree limbs surrounded me. For fifteen minutes, I watched the branches dance and sway across my walls. And I spent those fifteen minutes convincing myself that there were aliens outside in the trees. I swear I could see an alien riding a bike and then stopping to catch her breath and then pedaling with all her might again. I don't know how I know it was an alien woman, but I just do. I was convinced to the point I went and got my camera and headed outside to take a picture for my daily photo blog with my sister, Mel DropZoneS2.blogspot.com. I got outside and there was no alien to take a picture of. I went back inside and the alien was still on my wall riding her bike. Once again, don't ask how I know it was a her, I just do.
Little D started chatting incessantly about pirate ships and snacks and how he loves to read books and how his mommy makes him happy and how the black on the socks is on the bottom of his foot and whatever else came to his little mind.
Minutes earlier he was in an all out screaming rage, staring me down with dark, intense eyes that could give a terrorist a run for his money. The rage started because I reminded him if he was asking me a question, he needed to look in my eyes. I know it is a scary prospect but those are the rules in our family. I can see the talk bubble above his head now, "You want me to look you in the eyes, then I'll give you something to look at!"
I looked at Mr Chatterbox and thought how much he has seen and experienced in his short life, how he knows pain and has given up things I can't even begin to imagine the loss of, how he showed up in the Atlanta airport with a small suitcase full of belongings and that was all he could claim as his own. If I, who am the proud recipient of a college degree and a can say I have a relatively sane brain and am full adult (notice I did not use the Grown-up word), am able to convince myself that there is an alien riding her bike behind my house, it's not a far stretch that this little guy is able to convince himself the world is out to get him and that he cannot trust anyone farther than he can throw them.
My job is to convince him he's wrong. Unfortunately, I'm sure it will take more than a look-see at the trees in the backyard.
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