Healing power of the breath.

Enzo’s been a bit of a grump lately. Like he’s completely sleep deprived, which he’s not. He’s been sleeping beautifully. I guess maybe all the energy he usually uses to behave like a sweet little boys shaped dumpling is being wasted on some ridiculous thing like growth.

Yesterday on the drive from Zizza’s school he was particularly awful. He whined and whined. Whenever I ventured a response he met it with a spitty raspberry. When I recognized the futility of issuing response he whined all the more demanding I answer his gripes.
Once we got home and he was fed, I scooped him up and began to carry him up the stairs. He was much more amiable by this time and was pleased with the game until the thought of quiet time occurred to him. “Are you gonna tuck me in Mom?” he asked. When I confirmed his suspicions he returned to his previous grump state. (Thankfully, minus the spitting as we were now face to face)
Into his room I carried him and maneuvered the two of us onto his bed. He continued to grumble as I covered us both with a blankie. Then as I arranged the second blankie (there are currently three of them in his bed) he noticed that I wasn’t getting up. In fact, I was directly beneath him, mattress style. The grumbling stopped and we lay there, belly to belly our breathing staggered such that my belly would sink in exhale and his swelled to inhale. It was perfect mama boy meditation, focus on the breath, and let the tension slip away.

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