Oh, and this is the face. Sweet little mischief maker…

We were late to church, and sat on the back row. As I sunk into a without kids relaxation my eyes started to wander around… and then I saw him.

He was probably a few years older than I was and had dark hair that was slightly thinning in the back. He wore a dark colored shirt, elastic-waisted jeans and velcro white shoes which his constantly moving feet kept slipping out of. In fact, that was what first drew my attention, his constant head and feet movement were in stark contrast to the stillness in the room. He was smiling without restraint and kept touching a woman’s arm next to him I could only assume was his mother from her unending patience and kindness to him.

He loved the praise music and extended his arms in a pure form of expression.

He noticed a little baby and nearly fell out of his chair in excitement, trying to get his mother to look too. She patted his hand and tried to calm him down.

He laughed loudly and with his whole body when the pastor told a joke.

The little baby smiled at him the whole time, sensing something was different about him.

There was a purity, a sweet child-likeness in the man and yet it was all wrong. The subconscious discomfort of people near by was nearly a cloud. The quick, furtive glances, the attempt to be non-nonchalant and politically correct.  I felt it too, a creeping in feeling that I wanted to archly dismiss because I shouldn’t feel that way.

This isn’t about what is right or wrong, it just IS.

Suddenly, he turned and looked right at me. Then I wondered if he could even see me, his eyes were crossed and unfocused behind his thick glasses, but he was smiling hugely and waved at me.  I waved back and his face crinkled into an even bigger smile and he nearly came out of his chair in excitement as he turned to tell his mom all about it. I didn’t look at Ben. I couldn’t.

I couldn’t think about anything because my mind was so full of thoughts and instead focused on methodically taking notes over the thickness in my throat.

I’m not special or great, I can only live in the moment. Today is manageable.

*****

I was going to close with that originally- but I wanted to add that people all the time look at me and say, “I just couldn’t handle it if I had a special needs child” and they honestly don’t get that I can’t either. I feel the future embarrassment and feel full of shame at that truth. I can handle today, Bear is sweet and draws in people to community with his bright smile and love. It’s when that isn’t ok- when he starts to creep people out because of his age and size. When his pure spirit stands in stark contrast to the world’s ugliness and our thick defensive coats we wear to shield ourselves.

I can’t stand, I can’t stand it.

Can I lie here in Your arms Can I lie here in Your arms My only calm is You Save me
Can I lie here in Your arms Can I lie here in Your arms My only thought is You Save me
Can I lie here in Your arms Can I lie here in Your arms My happiness is You Save me
Oh how lovely this place To be with You To be with You
Oh the brightness of Your face Here with You Here with You
Oh my only calm is You Oh my only thought is You Oh my happiness is You Oh my happiness is You
To be with You To be with You Save me

Bug asked to go outside and in my desperation for peace I opened the door to let him go play. I have a fenced in back yard and these warmer than usual winter days have been great for my high energy boys!!

I had stillness. Silence. Peace.

Then I noticed Bug acting strangely as he walked into the kitchen then quietly snuck back out side. I thought he must have got some contraband from the kitchen he planned on eating outside.

Nope. He found his first mud puddles.

He had snuck inside the house to clean his hands and left a lovely trail of mud, rocks and debris.  and I went and got my camera.

OH IT’S ON.

At first I thought it was cute to have a furry companion with large teeth trying to break into my attic. I told Ben about the determined little rodent and accepted the fact that he would probably try to kill him with his bb gun. and then laughed at him as he would charge out the front door with the gun when we heard the little squirrel chewing away. I was surprised our neighbors didn’t report him to the police or something as crazy as he must have looked running around with a gun.

One day he ran to the back yard chasing the squirrel and almost got it…. but it cleverly jumped over into the neighbors yard and, a safe distance away, chattered angrily at Ben. Incensed he came back in the house shouting about he was going to trap it.

and then I spilled a Sam’s Club size bottle of laundry soap all over the floor.

OK, so that didnt happen that day. I’ll back up a week.

Ben *didn’t* get a trap until AFTER the squirrel GOT INSIDE and decided to extend his palace down into Bug’s wall, during nap time of course. I dont know if that stinking squirrel had a squirrel sized jack hammer or teeth of steel but I could hear him chowing down in the other part of the house with the tv on. REALLY.

I called Ben at work and asked him to come home immediately as my chunking a piece of wood at the outside of the house and screaming at the squirrel didn’t seem to faze the squirrel. and then I wondered once more if we’d be receiving a visit from the police.

and then I spilled a Sam’s Club size bottle of laundry soap all over the floor.

Yes, I did. Breathing hard after my running around outside, I slipped on the soapy floor and almost fell. *Apparently* I put the bottle too close to the edge and a vigorous  wash cycle knocked it over. SO I was laughing (because it was better than crying), mopping up the floor and threw the soap-soaked towels into the laundry machine.

Ben came home after I started the laundry and crawled around in the attic to place the live trap.

Then the washer broke, full of a Sam’s Club size bottle of laundry soap, now in sudsy, foamy, bubbles.

I can’t make this up….

But the house is silent right now, perhaps, just perhaps….

I’ll have squirrel for dinner.