Nothing was stirring, and the house was quiet. I reached out to Diana, expecting a child to be between us, but we were alone.
I looked over at the clock, "7:15." I sat up in bed, confused. Usually, Ethan or Ollie get up early before they're ready-to-wake-clock glows green at 7 am, especially on the weekends. I closed my eyes and listened, wondering if Ollie had gone downstairs to watch some television, but it was quiet and still.
It had been a trying week. Lucas had been homesick for part of it, and I had a colonoscopy. The ebb and flow of life with three young children didn't give us any respite to handle these challenges.
I was about to get up when I heard the doorknob to Lucas's room start to turn. Slowly the door opened, and Lucas peaked into our room. "Hey, baby-baby, come here," I said as I waved him over. I lay down in bed as he approached. Then he plopped down his head on my bed, swung his leg on the nightstand, and rolled his body onto our bed.
I pulled Lucas between Diana and me. I helped him get under the cover, and he laid his head on my chest. As the rhythm of our breathing aligned, the world again felt quiet and still.
Lucas sat up a moment later with a smile on his face. This was his way of telling me he was ready to start the day. I got up, and he followed me to the bathroom. He watched me with a smile as I did my morning routine. As we stepped out of the bathroom, I heard the gentle pitter-patter of Buffy's nails. Her head peaked out of the bedroom into the hallway. As she saw us, she picked up speed and caught up to us as we started down the stairs.
I changed Lucas's diaper and set up the water kettle so I could make some tea. Lucas walked up to me, holding a full-size bag of chips, and pushed them into my leg, insisting, "chips!" I had no idea where he found these chips, probably someone in the back of our pantry. "Buddy, you can't just eat chips for breakfast," I insisted." Then Lucas pointed at the refrigerator and said, "yu-gert."
I took the bag of chips out of Lucas' hands and told him to sit down. He hurried over to his chair and climbed up to the table. A couple of moments later, I brought him a bowl with potato chips, strawberry yogurt, and a spoon. I started peeling off the yogurt lid, and Lucas's objective was "NO!" So I backed off and let him get the lid off. He pushed the lid towards me, and I accepted it and kissed him on his forehead.
Heavier steps came down the stairs, and Ethan walked over to me wearily. H walked over to me with his arms up, "hug?" "Good morning, special one," I greeted him as I picked him up. Even though lifting caused a twinge of pain in my arm, suffering a tendon injury, I still held him close and felt his face bury deep into the side of my neck.
Buffy whined softly at the back door to our backyard. I carried over Ethan with me as I let Buffy out. I gently put Ethan down, and he remembered about the Lego set he had started the night before. He rushed to his play table and returned to work on putting the pieces together.
The slower steps of Ollie, my oldest son, approached. I hugged him as he groggily passed me to sit on the couch and turn on the television. He knew it was weekend, and that meant he could start with day with television.
After gathering my stuff and putting on my shoes, I looked back at my children. Ollie lay on the couch watching television, Ethan was working on Legos, Lucas was eating breakfast, and Buffy was sitting behind Lucas, watching him intently. The house felt still.
Part of me felt sad that I would spend most of the day away, but I was comforted knowing I was spending my day with a symposium for young men of color. Somehow my children understood the work I was doing was important, and I knew that someday they would be proud of me for the work I did for others boys of color just like them.
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