Of globes and boot buckles

Heavy heavenly heart

My little Heavenly Tot had a heavy heart this morning. He started back at school after a long holiday, and despite being fine all the way up to the classroom door, when the reality hit home  (him staying, me going), he went quiet and clung to me; the lip quivered and the tears welled. His teacher sms’d me not half an hour later to say that he was fine. But still, my lip quivered and the tears welled all the way to St Alban’s, thinking of his silent sadness – his effort to be brave.  

‘Don’t leave me to be lonely. Just stay and be company with me.’

This has become one of Cameron’s mantras of late, which makes my heart heavy, too. He is a paradox of confidence and insecurity. At times he runs into open nothingness, fearless (reasoning: if I can’t see the danger, why worry?). Other times, he clings like a koala. The latter situation usually occurs when there are other kids around (reasoning: I can’t keep up with them or see what they are doing). He stands very still and squints at what must be to him a blur of movement, colour and noise, and it makes my stomach lurch and shrivel. It sometimes also happens in unfamiliar, obstacle-strewn places (reasoning: there is stuff here that I can trip over, or fall off).

Yesterday, the guys went riding so Coral and I took the kids to the pat-the-animals/play/drink-cappuccinos place at Plantland. Those kinds of outings are not terribly relaxing for any mom. In fact, the cappuccinos are a bit of a pretence. There is absolutely no calm, sophisticated conversation between frothy sips. There are only nervous glances towards the terrifyingly high slides, and mad dashes to the jungle gyms to wipe tears, mop blood or negotiate disputes while the cooling cappuccinos grow disappointingly unfrothy.

Nevertheless, we do it because the kids have fun, and because snatches of interrupted conversation are still great. The fact that Cameron has no depth perception and hardly ever looks down at his feet makes these occasions particularly stressful for me, because he is prone to walking right off the high wooden platforms, which keeps me hovering at the bottom. Yesterday, Cam was not at all keen to play on his own, or even with his cousins. He hung around the table with us and wouldn’t venture towards the playground without one of us in tow. I’ve heard from a blind mom that this is common behaviour for blind and VI children (e.g. hanging around the party table all afternoon scoffing the cheese curls while everyone else plays…).  I tried various tactics to let him know that I could see him at all times even though he couldn’t see me, but he remained reluctant to pat the bunnies and climb the ladders.

I continue to pray – with panic-induced fervour – that God would protect his heart, and give him calm self-assurance, an irrepressible sense of humour, the confidence to ask for help, and the knowledge that he is never, never alone. He does seem to derive security from knowing where Scott is and what he is doing, so maybe when Scott is older and able to hang around the jungle gym with him…? He is also using his sense of hearing far more, and I am grateful for his insatiable curiosity and his perseverance in making sense of the world. He is constantly asking, ‘What’s that noise?’ It often takes me a couple of seconds to tune into whatever distant hum, buzz, grind, roar or jumping castle he is picking up.

Serious, global conversations

Our first ‘serious conversation’ of the week had to take place after a visit to Aunty Mel and the resultant record-breaking tantrum. Despite numerous explanations about the inappropriateness of hanging around on the fringes of grown-up chats et al, Cam refused to go off and play with the other kids (see above… sigh). I let it slide but informed him on the way home that we would be having a ‘serious conversation’ about his behaviour. He obviously sensed just how serious this conversation was going to be. He shrewdly calculated his next move. ‘Mommy,’ he said, after a brief silence, ‘I also want to have a conversation about how Jesus forgives us when we are naughty.’ Now if that doesn’t knock the wind out of my disciplinary sails! He might as well have said, ‘Just remember, I’m under grace!’

Following on from that serious conversation was a lesson in scale and Geography. He has been asking questions about light bulbs and the world (‘Light bulb globes go “pop” but world globes don’t pop, hey?’), and the sea (‘Is the sea a river?’) and about how (on earth?) we could possibly all be living on a big ball… We borrowed a globe from his cousin Greg and I tried to explain the enormous concept of scale and unimaginable bigness. I showed him a tiny plastic dolphin then explained that real dolphins are huge, bigger than Lola! Then I showed him the globe and tried to explain that it was just a toy world, and that we’re living on the real big world. I showed him SA, and all the countries where we have friends that he knows, and I showed him that all the blue bits are ocean. Eish. I doubt that he got it but I guess we have to start somewhere, and I’m determined to answer all his questions truthfully.

Then the other morning Cam had a serious conversation with Scott. It went like this:

Scott: ‘Waaaah!’

Cameron: ‘There’s no point crying, Scott. That won’t help.’

He also told Granny that he would like to talk to her about Jesus and God and how Jesus loves him when he’s in his bed at night. Granny informed him in equally serious and matter-of-fact tones that indeed Jesus even loves him when he is out of his bed. J

Celebrating Scott

My paragraphs on Scott are shorter only because he says less, but I could write books about his rapturous smiles and jubilant, simultaneous arm-waving-leg-kicking. He is so often a picture of happy, uncomplicated ecstasy. We’ve hit another patch of numerous night wakings (note to self: never brag that your baby is sleeping through), but his sweet daytime demeanour makes up for his fractious nights. He is delectable!

A moment of worship

At church on Sunday, during one particular worship song, I was holding Cam (he was heavy and tired and snuggly) and Scott was sitting on a blanket at my feet, contentedly sucking on the (borderline bling) silver buckle of my left boot. I felt deliriously weighed down by love.

I will praise you, LORD, with all my heart;
I will tell of all the marvellous things you have done.
I will be filled with joy because of you.
I will sing praises to your name, O Most High.
… the LORD reigns forever,
executing judgment from his throne.
He will judge the world with justice
and rule the nations with fairness.
The LORD is a shelter for the oppressed,
a refuge in times of trouble.
Those who know your name trust in you,
for you, O LORD, do not abandon those who search for you.
Sing praises to the LORD who reigns in Jerusalem.
Tell the world about his unforgettable deeds…

He does not ignore the cries of those who suffer. – Psalm 9