Blog-a-thon Day 3 (whoo- hoo!)

Kyle is sick

Intertwined with a bi-cycle

bipolar, that is

He allows food, but does not choose it

He chooses sleep, rest

One package of mushy mush, he is

I choose worry, fear

And then I see the fear in the form of little men floating around in my mind, in my gut, with their outrageous huge black glasses and furry Russian hats 

They don't smile and neither do I

I blow them a kiss and give them a playful, yet firm, kick in the butt with my hiking-socked feet 

Toodle-loo, I say and off with you!

They appear startled, almost offended, as they skulk off

I smile

I breathe

This time, I have a butt load of tools and support if this cycle baby shows up at the door step of Kyle's sweet soul

I am ready

I am strong

I am resilient

and can handle anything!