Catch Air

A dark, cold cloud hovers in the sky.

As children swim in an empty pool.

Waves crash,

With a looming shadow on ocean surface,

Fiona is building her confidence in the water.

Today they both catch air.

Over and over.

I told my kids I wasn’t going to swim today. No way. As I type this my finger feels like ice. But the kids just keep swimming and swimming. They must be freezing.

Today I went for a massage. It was so needed and appreciated.

“That’s loud, I need to turn that down, it’s like somebodies deaf who works here.” Says the massage therapist as she’s getting started.

“My daughters deaf, I know what you mean about things needed to be turned up loud” I said.

I didn’t know how I felt. It’s like when someone says something offensive, but you know they just made a thoughtless comment.

The massage was wonderful and I had so many moments of quiet relaxation. I decided I’m just gonna chill the rest of the vacation. Until traffic time.

I have no idea what I will do about much still. I need to wait and see. This morning Fiona said,

“Shannons class, Shannons class, Jacks class, Shannons Class, Shannons class, Jacks class. ”

We have loved our experience there. I wish there was someway to make our neighborhood school more like Shannons class for Fiona. If she knew sign well she could get an interpreter. I’m not going to spin out on that right now. I need to get my own independent education team to get second opinions. And let Fiona try different things, to see what she likes. I just know she doesn’t like Jacks class. And I know I don’t want Listen spoken language only. Because it leaves her out of so much communication time each day.

Vacation with kids isn’t bad. Today they are playing well together. If it was up to me this is what everyday would be like. No stress, just let the kids play and eat junk! I’m making them smores tonight. I’ll put on a movie and chill.

Jack and Fiona are so freezing and they can’t stop swimming! I have to make them stop.

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About Dirty Laundry Blog

Thoughts on Motherhood Through the Eyes of an Artist