Finding Our Song
Posted By jayna on July 29, 2010
The hour between picking Miss E up from preschool and naptime was full of fails today. Complete and utter fails. The kind that end in crying and screaming by someone. Anyone. Any one of us. Even the cats joined in on the major fail going on.
*note: there are only so many hairballs a person can clean up before breaking out the clippers. cats, be warned.*
On days like these, we turn to music. Pounding the computer’s speakers for all they are worth, jamming out and spinning around to whatever strikes as the taste of the day. In an instant, tears turn to giggles and stomping feet start to do so out of dance. Only, today, that failed as well. Waiting, as the first few notes would play and then stop, and growing more impatient. Start, stop, load. Over and over. The impatience grew into hysterics as I gave up, turning off the screen.
One crying toddler and one screaming baby, each firmly tucked under an arm. Up towards the stairs I drug them, summoning that last bit of energy to make it till each was in bed for a nap. Feet kicked and arms flailed in protest, nearly wriggling them free. Up I stepped . . . one step . . . two steps . . .
BOOM!!!!
The house shook with the full force of the afternoon storm that had rushed in, blackening the skies and turning the house dark.
BOOM!!!!
The girls froze, mid protest, and looked at me with wide, fearful eyes. The rain was pounding against the windows and the sky lit up again and again.
“I don’t like thunder,” E said, burrowing under my arm. “Why does there have to be thunder?”
“Well,” I said, clapping my hands. “Thunder is fun. It can sound different every time, and it can be loud and soft and long or short. It’s music from the clouds. Like they’re playing the drums.”
She clapped her hands. “I’m THUNDER!”
MJ ran to her side and clapped her hands.
BOOOM!!! The house shook again. Each jumped and turned to run and hide in my arms. Scooping them up, I walked down the hall and opened the front door. The damp air rushed in and rain wet our toes. I stepped out onto the porch and set them down. They shrank back against the house, fearfully watching the rain sheeting down. Far away, lightning shot through the sky.
“If thunder is like a drum, what is lightning, Mommy?”
My thoughts stalled. How do you explain that to a three year old?
Do you start talking about the positive and negative charges and hope they’ll become so confused, they loose interest before you yourself get all confused? Do you bust out the big words like atmospheric electrical discharge? Or do you stall so long in search of the most age appropriate answer that they come up with a better one than you ever could have?
“Oh! It must be the rain dancing! It dances really fast and then the clouds play the drum!”
Yes, my dear, that is exactly what lightning is. A dance to the music.
All of our fails behind us, we stood together on the porch and watched the whole show. The song was a long one, but it was just the right tune to pull us back into the rhythm of our day.
Love this.