keep moving

I know when I look back on these days, they’ll be foggy, like those first weeks after a baby’s birth, when the world is seen through milky glass.

The world continues moving around me, even if I feel like I’m moving in slow motion. Or stop motion, even, like those horrible jerky effects in Clash of the Titans. Everything has a cartoonish feel to it when your life is surreal and not at all what you ever expected it to be.

But it keeps moving.

This morning, I woke up cranky and snapped at the kids too much. I’m tired. I hurt all over, inside and out. I thought it would end up being a shit day, but Chipmunk was the one to drag me not kicking, but briefly screaming, out of my dark mood.

We went to Busch Gardens, since we have passes, and when he stopped being pissy, he turned into a talkative ball of delight. He grabbed a map and read the names of all the places and told us where we needed to go. He read every sign he could get his eyeballs on. He started talking to kids in lines, asking them where their parents were and where they went to school, telling them silly stories. He rode rides with me, and said, “I’m glad Jingle Bells is playing, it makes me brave!”

I asked him to take a picture with me, our first time together on a wooden coaster, and he said, “Let’s both make faces like we’re screaming!”

When we got off the wooden coaster, he told the people in line, “Listen, I don’t think you want to ride this! This seat is way too bumpy!”

On the carousel, he looked up, watching the gears the whole time, fascinated by the way they moved his horse up and down.

We “raced” on the gliders high above the park, and he looked over at me and gave me a thumbs up.

He wouldn’t let us leave one area of the park until I took his picture with each of four giant characters on stilts. “I can’t believe I finally get to take a picture with a stilt bug!” he shouted.

Later, he played with friends. Really played.

We went to a Christmas tree light show thing with Caroline and her boys, and when the lights and music began, Moose gave a silly grin and watched from his perch in my arms, and Chipmunk wiggled his skinny butt and did a dance for the entire set of Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

On the long drive home, in the dark, Moose fell asleep and Chipmunk stayed up until the very end.

“If The Flash had henchmen,” Chipmunk said, out of nowhere, “they’d be joggers.”

A huge airliner flew right over us, landing at the airport by the highway, and he said wondrously, sincerely, “Whoa, a spaceship.”

I’m sad, but I can’t be sad all the time, not with my buddies reminding me how cool life is.

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