Almonds. I can't get enough of the scent of them. It started with Method's Almond scented polish and one too many compliments from visiting friends. (As if it was me doused in the the gentle dust of these fragrant nuts). And then it was Almond Fairy liquid, a few drop's of almond essence added to my BrocanteHome surface cleaner, and the battle to create macaroons of my own making that are actually edible. As if anything I ever make is edible.
Tesco's. Though I promise Nick I will never again darken their door due to their penchant for outrageous business practices, it seems me and promises were never a match made in heaven and the rebel in me cannot resist the pull of all that easy gotten scrumptiousness under one roof. I come away with Singapore Rose cordial I will later pour drizzle over vanilla ice cream, a bar of Green and Blacks Gingerbread (oh my!) chocolate, an over-sized box of baking soda from the cleaning section (at last!!) and the terrible taint of consumer driven guilt I will wash way with an amber coloured bar of Pears soap.
Home. The occupational therapist insists Finley must be seated at all times with his feet firmly on the ground.
He needs to feel grounded she says.
He needs to be wearing tighter underwear. An underwear hug if you like.
He needs reminding where his body ends and the rest of the world begins. I re-arrange his bedroom in the quest to free up his little vintage desk and chair and do myself a damage dragging it down the stairs. For the first time he eats a meal without falling or jumping on and off his chair and I go into the kitchen and slap myself about the heart for not having made his life this much easier before.
Conversations. His insight never fails to astound me. He's crawls into bed with me, him in flannel pyjamas, me in the nightie I wore the day he was born.
Mum, he said,
you know you think I was invented to drive you bonkers?
Yes, baby? I replied...
Well it isn't true, he said, straddling my chest and looking straight into my eyes,
I was invented to open doors Mum.
What kind of doors Sweetheart?
Doors to whole new worlds Mummy! I was invented to open doors to a whole new world just for you Mummy...
I know it's true. But do not know how it is possible for a five year old to put it so lucidly into words.
Later he is draped across the rug colouring in, when he looks up and asks,
Mum do you think God draws pictures?
Well probably baby, I say, ignoring the voice of my appalled inner aethiest.
Maybe, he says, excitement making his eyes dance,
maybe he drew us! Maybe we are Gods pictures!
Wow, I say,
you could be right Finn, watching even as I say it, doubt cross his face.
No Mum. Pictures don't move. We move, we are more like a film.
There is a pause.
Then:
That's it Mummy! We are actors in God's film. We are all just actors!!
We are all just actors.
Almonds. I can't get enough of the scent of them. It started with Method's Almond scented polish and one too many compliments from visiting friends. (As if it was me doused in the the gentle dust of these fragrant nuts). And then it was Almond Fairy liquid, a few drop's of almond essence added to my BrocanteHome surface cleaner, and the battle to create macaroons of my own making that are actually edible. As if anything I ever make is edible.
Tesco's. Though I promise Nick I will never again darken their door due to their penchant for outrageous business practices, it seems me and promises were never a match made in heaven and the rebel in me cannot resist the pull of all that easy gotten scrumptiousness under one roof. I come away with Singapore Rose cordial I will later pour drizzle over vanilla ice cream, a bar of Green and Blacks Gingerbread (oh my!) chocolate, an over-sized box of baking soda from the cleaning section (at last!!) and the terrible taint of consumer driven guilt I will wash way with an amber coloured bar of Pears soap.
Home. The occupational therapist insists Finley must be seated at all times with his feet firmly on the ground. He needs to feel grounded she says. He needs to be wearing tighter underwear. An underwear hug if you like. He needs reminding where his body ends and the rest of the world begins. I re-arrange his bedroom in the quest to free up his little vintage desk and chair and do myself a damage dragging it down the stairs. For the first time he eats a meal without falling or jumping on and off his chair and I go into the kitchen and slap myself about the heart for not having made his life this much easier before.
Conversations. His insight never fails to astound me. He's crawls into bed with me, him in flannel pyjamas, me in the nightie I wore the day he was born.
Mum, he said, you know you think I was invented to drive you bonkers?
Yes, baby? I replied...
Well it isn't true, he said, straddling my chest and looking straight into my eyes, I was invented to open doors Mum.
What kind of doors Sweetheart?
Doors to whole new worlds Mummy! I was invented to open doors to a whole new world just for you Mummy...
I know it's true. But do not know how it is possible for a five year old to put it so lucidly into words.
Later he is draped across the rug colouring in, when he looks up and asks, Mum do you think God draws pictures?
Well probably baby, I say, ignoring the voice of my appalled inner aethiest.
Maybe, he says, excitement making his eyes dance, maybe he drew us! Maybe we are Gods pictures!
Wow, I say, you could be right Finn, watching even as I say it, doubt cross his face.
No Mum. Pictures don't move. We move, we are more like a film.
There is a pause.
Then: That's it Mummy! We are actors in God's film. We are all just actors!!
We are all just actors.
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16 comments:
Children do sometimes have a clarity of thought that seems to verge on the profound. That's a smart little lad you've got there. :)
Today, I am fascinated by what the occupational therapist told you. And it's working? Wonderful!
Oh,, News of Finley.. This is more like the OLD blog that I loved so much.. Enough with the housekeeping ..more about YOU PLEASE
he's a sweetie. I've never tried almond oil but lavender is my favourite :-)
I honestly think that Finley is a very old soul... some people don't believe in this kind of thing but I also believe from what you write that he could be an Indigo or Crystal child (my youngest would talk of past lives when she was Finleys age and also of her reason of being here).. now I will be witch hunted from blogland.
as to almonds.. eating 8 almonds a day is one of the best things you can do for your body, so says Ayurvedic practice.
Mmm... the almond furniture polish by Method is delicious!
What a sweetheart of a child.
xo
WOW his comments take my breath away. Stunning.
And the OT advice sounds like it fits well for your son.
I think Finley is very precious,you should keep a book of 'Finisms'! because we forget so much as they grow.
Here in France, needing to be more in contact with the ground is advice often given for children who find it hard to sit still and concentrate ( they are usually particularly gifted too )and thinner shoe soles help. Both feet on the ground whenever sitting and standing stright with the weight evenly distributed between the two feet. Underpants is new, but why not !!
What a little love he is...
Tighter underpants? No kidding! Wow. Finley never fails to astonish with his amazingly insightful, far too old for his own good, thought process.
This post was really lovely. I enjoyed it quite a bit. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
Hmmmm... I can't think of how tighter underware would be helpful. In fact, that would make me fidget more ~ lol.
It's an innocently beautiful thing that children have a sense of spirituality without even being taught it. Perhaps he IS opening doors to whole new worlds for you ;)
Blessings... POlly
Thanks for the link
Sharon
So glad to have found your new haven, on a dull Wednesday morning in Feb your pretty, candle-lit world has cheered me right up, even my Assam tastes a little sweeter. thank you Ali.
Lee-Ann x
What a gift you've been given in your little guy. I guess that's why we're told to have faith like a child. :o)
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