Circuit Work

I’m doing a silent headcount, ensuring my responsibilities’ presence. “1.2.3.4.” All here. Wait….am I supposed to be watching anyone else’s kids? Panic momentarily sets in while I’m shuffling through my files…… No, just mine.  Ok. Everyone is accounted for.

And then the tracking……..

I’m cautiously watching to the right while Dallin and Porter play with a newfound friend. She’s 5 and her name’s Emily. Dallin has already turned on the charisma and is gently passing her the football and consciously involving her in play. Porter is dually annoyed. First that someone- especially a girl- is interfering in his football time and slowing the pace of the game down. And secondly, although not so obvious, is the annoyance that his brother has stolen the attention and any chance he had of being this girl’s favorite.  While only 5 and 6, I still maintain within my jurisdiction the need to enforce fair play and lip free interaction. Hence, the close eye………….

That now wanders right to my ankles. Where a little one-year-old is digging up treasures and testing authenticity and value the only way a new one-year-old knows how:…..orally. Only a few seconds ago I saw a purple berry clutched in her clenched fist. The clenching has now transferred to her mouth, revealing the treasure’s new venue. I instantly attempt entrance- my promptness surely inspired by the Hunger Games-  knowing this struggle is going to be one determined mama vs a more determined baby. I’ll have to use my force to gain victory and ensure that she doesn’t swallow what will surely be her death pill if I don’t hurry up.  I reach from one potential hiding place to the other, as she masterfully moves the berry just one step ahead of me, until there’s nowhere left to hide it. I pull out the prize. Not to find a purple berry…………….but a mouse terd.  The berry is clenched in the opposite fist. Both get revoked and evicted, but not without a gut-wrenching sob letting me know I just ruined all her hard work, and her feelings are officially- not temporarily-………bruised. Black and blue. I must keep a close eye on her next attempt…..

In between watching Deeter re-confront yesterday’s enemy. Does he like torturing himself? Or is he determined to battle fear, disguised in the face of the white swan? Because this swan is willing to peck, already demonstrated on the unsuspecting victim- Deeter. Was it this swan or a different one? I can’t exactly remember but they all look alike to me, so that must be the case for Deeter also. Regardless, he is ready and going in. He approaches the growing crowd with a nervous gait. The swan has been joined with equally willing peckers- a rooster and a few chickens. Still, Deeter moves forward undeterred. He is within a mere few feet when I see him jump in surprise. My heart assumes the worse before my eyes have a chance to digest the scene…..The party has been crashed by an uninvited guest. The yellow cat sprung through the middle lightening quick, scattering the birds in all different directions and, indefinitely, postponing Deeter’s determination. And essentially granting me a brief reprieve of saving Deeter from the flippant yellow beak.

I continue to track my 3 stations. The mind of a mama never finds rest. Admittedly, our chores often fall under the warranted category of mundane. But the job is eased when done from a lounge chair with rays of sun hitting directly on my legs, encompassed by the 80 degree air, palm trees and ocean in the background, and a glass of ice cold Diet Coke in my hand. All night long, baby.