Precious And Few

Being with The Exchange is like being with The Boy, without the complaining and whining. He doesn't know how to do that in English. I mean, it's ridiculous how the two of them dress alike. I am sure they don't confer about what to wear in the morning, yet they come downstairs wearing striped t-shirts, capri cargos, and sockless Converses. In photographs, they strike similar stances and expressions. They rib me the same way. They tell me how similar Exchange's mother and I are.

I love every minute of being with The Exchange. Having said that, having The Exchange in the house also punctuates how much The Man, The Boy and I actually have a rhythm and routine despite our seeming chaos, and how we've adapted to each other's need for alone time.

The Exchange adores The Boy. But who doesn't. The Boy likes him, but finds it a challenge to be shadowed, for six weeks now, when he would like to spend time with his friends now that he is home. The Man doesn't like giving up his office for The Exchange's bedroom. I continue to adore all three of them, though when disagreements erupt, I am quick to jump ship to save my sanity.

This afternoon, the plans for our outings fell apart. We were frustrated with our inability to formulate new plans. I think it came down to all of us needing time away from each other. I darted out of the house and stopped neighbours on the street to talk to them. The Man threatened to drive off in the car but ended up on the street with me holding impromptu meetings with passersby. The Boy read. The Exchange wrote post cards home.

After about two hours, I went back into the house. All was well. We were all friends again.

The surprising thing is not how The Exchange is an extra corner to our trinity, but in fact, how much he fits in. It's like we suddenly melded into a shape-shifting polygon, more dynamic, in tune with each other, tolerant, and forgiving of each other than I thought possible. The Exchange has a sensitivity, maturity and confidence that makes this possible.

If I were to have another son, he would be The Exchange. Right now, I don't want to imagine life without him and I am plotting ways to keep him. So what is it that draws me to him? I mean aside from the fact that he is good looking, smart, good humoured, engaging, easy-going, gentlemanly and charming.

I think it's because there is a vulnerability to him that yanks at my maternal heart strings. That, and the liveliness of potential, purity, innocence and beauty in the face of vulnerability.

Few people draw my attention to our potential for meaning, happiness, and goodness in spite of being vulnerable. Knowing these people exist makes me glad and hopeful for humanity. They make me want to protect them and what they symbolize. They make me want to be a better me. Because of them, I am more aware of the essence of purity and beauty in others and appreciate people much more.

The Boy is one of these people. The Man another. Kid2 is one. The Boy's friend Butterfly Boy is one. And now The Exchange. I am blessed to have them in my life and to actually talk to them and touch them. And yes, The Exchange kissed me this morning.