muggy moods

It is so hot and heavy and humid. I can feel the storm wanting to break…but it doesn’t. A fly buzzes on the back porch. It seems to be the only movement outside right now. The air is so still and I feel as if my body and being have absorbed this pressure, the waiting, waiting for something to shift. Lukas was fussy all morning. Nothing was right. He wanted to be held and then put down. He was hungry and then didn’t want to eat. He was tired and sticky and hot and a bit confused…like me. I took him to the beach. It was a bit of an ordeal to lug the cooler with snacks and the beach toys and diapers and all our paraphernalia but it seemed like the best option. The neighbors weren’t home to play and I couldn’t think of anyone to call, so I gathered up my little sweaty bundle of a boy and loaded up our car. We were the first ones there and claimed the shady spot. I forgot a towel so Lukas was a sticky mass of sand and stones and water within minutes and there was nothing I could do about it but I didn’t care. He was content at last, amused, even if only for a short time. It was a bit of breath in this muggy, moody day. But I still felt weighted, lonely. As the beach began to fill with summer camps and vacationers, mommies meeting mommies and babies sharing shovels, my loneliness increased. I could hear other mommies talking about plans for the weekends and remembering past times, birthday parties and playground parades. These people had history. They weren’t just acquaintances; they were soul mates, companions, bosom friends. I wasn’t just lonely for me either. I was lonely for Lukas. He is almost two and we still have yet to find him and me buddies. Not just occasional companions but a real honest to goodness buddy. When Trina moved we really felt their absence. Lukas asked for Noah for weeks after. He would see other kids that looked like Noah and heartbreakingly run to them saying “Noah, friend.” I had no idea that he cared that much. But he did. I had no idea that I cared that much. But I did. I told Trina that she couldn’t move. She was psychologically damaging my child by doing so. But she left none the less. Sigh. Other people’s lives really don’t revolve around me after all. So here we are alone at the beach on a Wednesday morning, a fussy pair, solitary and sandy, impatient for the impending storm….waiting for something, for anything to shift.