about today

this morning did not really go so well.
the big boy (my nephew who has been staying with us for almost three weeks now) and i had some not so nice words with each other, in not so very nice voices.
i did not react to his behaviour the way i knew.know i should. i forgot to breathe. to stop and breathe. to stop and remember the little quote on the side-bar of my blog {it's in the side-bar of my brain as well}.

Between stimulus and response there is a space. 
In that space is our power to choose our response. 
In our response lies our growth and our freedom.

Viktor E. Frankl
I have to keep reminding myself about how to respond to all situations. Right now, that is my journey, my lessons. I am trying. To remember. Trying to breathe
We did hug, when I dropped him off at school. I saw the tears in his eyes, and felt the tearing in my heart. I tried to smile with my heart, to his heart, with my eye to his eye. 
Later, when I was home, in the few quiet hours between the preschool committee meeting, and then the back to pick everyone up afternoon routine, I did stop and breathe. On my own, in the quiet of the house, by myself. I let the quiet, rainy day wash over me and ease me. I let the guilt go, the anger, the upset at the situation having got to the point it got to. I tried to remind myself that I need to breathe, when I'm in the situation. {And when this afternoon came, and there was still some anger from the big.little boy, I did breathe, and talked to him in a good and calm voice}.
Right now, bed is calling me. There are two little children and one cat in there, waiting for me. (With Sam in Brisbane for a few nights, the kids have clambered into bed with me; and let me tell you, I love it - their warm little bodies, feeling their dreams skitter about in their sleep. I have such wonderful memories of sleeping in the bed with my own mama). The rain is falling on our tin roof. A good sound, despite the fact that it means the outside will be muddy, and the grass too wet to mow, too high to run easily in. (And more more more rain means house building ideas slip week by week along....). 
Tomorrow will start all over again. And tomorrow, I will try harder to breathe. To remember my response and reaction.

These are some photos that I took today, while having my lunch. My eggs were slightly more than the just slightly soft boiled that I like them; I think due to stopping to take photos and not peeling them straight away. But they were still nourishingly good anyway. Isn't that an intense orange - need I even say that they are local and free-range (though not our own, yet. I am still waiting to build a chook pen and bring some hens home).
This little purple lilac bloom was the only one of the whole plant. I told the girl to not pick it, to let it be and enjoy it, to see if any more would grow. I was watching while I walked past each day. But she picked it - she does so like picking little blossoms and blooms and bringing them in to place in a glass, jar or other vessel for us to look at. And you know what - each day I was walked right past looking at the mass of flowers (all three blooms that there are!), but not appreciating the detail. Now that they are sitting on our table, I am looking and so enjoying seeing those delicate petals.lines.shapes.colours up close. One looks as if someone has done the most delicate of embroidery stitches along the petal seamline, with the prettiest of thread colours. I keep expecting to see fairy silver dust sprinkled upon it!