Today was a de-gorgeous day here -- sunny, 50ish degrees, lots of yellow flowers popping up all over. Lire was still napping and Al had gone to pick H up at school. Chauncey and I were cleaning up the yard. At least I was cleaning the yard. Chauncey imagines he is my Centurion, guarding the perimeters of our property against speeding tractors and noisy pick-ups.
The boys have managed to make our yard look pretty trashy, I must say. Broken plastic frisbees and sand buckets, bubble wands aplenty, sodden tennis balls and random pieces of wood decorate our lawn. So I decided to pick up a bit while the wee lad slept. I kept the front door open, so when he awoke, he would see me.
I traversed the lawn about a million times, picking up random bits and throwing them in a bucket. I kept looking at the door for Lire's little face, listening for his usual post-nap "Mommy?... Mommy?" I found one of Al's garden spades amongst a pile of broken bricks (yikes! what do these boys do when I'm not around?). I decided to put it in his work room, to keep it from rusting when I heard the saddest sound.
Heart-wrenching sobs! I rushed to the inner door and opened it to find my sad little Lire on the other side! He was beside himself with sadness and fear that no one was home for him! Writing about it hurts my heart yet again. I've been so strict about one of us being around for the boys when they awaken, and all last summer he would come outside to look for us after a nap. I guess with the cold weather he hadn't remembered that I may be outside.
I held him and rocked him and told him I would never leave him alone, not ever. That he must have been so scared to wake up and not find anyone in the house. To add comic relief to the situation, Chauncey decided this was the perfect time to rip the hat off my head. For those of you who don't know, it's C-dog's favorite trick, next to catching the boys' tee-ball hits. He did it not once, but twice as Lire bawled and I tried to comfort him. You have to give the dog some credit, he was trying to lighten the situation.
Dad and Habtam arrived home and I carried him over to them. Fortunately, Al had a plastic dinosaur egg that hatches when immersed in water in his hand, which put a smile on his face.
It brought home (again) to me how fresh the boys' relinquishment is in their subconscious. Just below the surface of Lire's joyful exterior. I find myself thinking how terrified he must have been, and it twists my insides into a knot. You will be glad to know that he had a wonderful rest of his day. He is anxiously awaiting the hatching of the dinosaur egg, and wore his tiger suit for the bedtime story. Little man.