So, my Nana was in the hospital last week. When she went in (Tuesday)she lived at Bluebonnet house. When she came out (Saturday) she lived at Carriage Inn. Sunday we had a b-day party for Paris. My mom suggested that Nana would really like to see all the kids that evening, so after the party and dinner we loaded up the crew to go see Nana's new digs.
We had a lovely visit. Her new place is nice. This kids were starting to get a bit manic so we were trying to gather everyone up and get out of Nana's hair. I stood in the doorway holding a laundry basket watching the Goose and Monkey and waiting for the Bug, her daddy, and my mom to join us. Just as Mom is coming out the door I see my son out of the corner of my eye. He's touching the fire alarm. I lunged. I was not fast enough. The sirens start balring. I drop the laundry basket, Easy grabs Vivie and the basket, Mom took off to tell the front desk it was a false alarm. Paris walks down the hall with her hands over her ears screaming. I grabbed up Tripp who had covered his ears and gone completely limp. It was nice.
Turns out there are no covers on the fire alarms at Nana's new place. The little red box is at Tripp's eye level and right in the center on a round handle it says PULL. Tripp can read. Apparently this wasn't the first time this had happened. It does seem that we were the straw though - it was announced at their "town hall meeting" yesterday that they are purusing purchasing covers for all the fire alarms.
On a much happier note.......we were driving home afew days ago and the song "Free" was playing on the CD we were listening to.
I am free to run.
I am free to dance.
I am free to live for You.
I am free.
I've heard this song on KSBJ a million times. The version we were listening to was done for a kids worship CD. Same song, different voices. I'm driving along and I realize that Tripp is talking to me.
"Tripper is free Mommy. Tripper is free."
"Are you free buddy?"
"That's right," he says as his cute little hand pats his chest, "Tripper is free."
I know this could be chalked up to echolalia, but not really. He wasn't repeating the song, he was applying it. It felt like a big moment. A few tears brimmed as I realized that somewhere in my precious son was a feeling of freedom.
My sweet Monkey - you are indeed Free in Christ. You are a picture of innocence and love. You are a precious gift from God. Many people know of your journey and see that you are trapped, or bound. Yes, you experience the world a little differently, and you dont' express yourself like everyone else. But your core truth is that you are FREE in God's might love to do all He calls you to do. And as for me, well I'm just glad I have such a cute little reminder that I too am free. I love you.