Tea for Two

A new ritual has woven itself into the fabric of our family over the past few weeks.  

It looks like this . . .

As I busy myself with making dinner for our crew, this guy hops up on the counter and talks.  He talks about little things--what level he beat 0n his game, what he wants to buy with his allowance, a joke someone told at school.  He talks about big things--troubles with peers, missing his best buddies, things that make him feel bad about himself.  

And we drink tea, like all good Brits.  We have chamomile or green tea, depending on our mood.  Peppermint or cinnamon for a cold, damp day.  Always with cream, and sometimes with honey for him.

Sometimes it is hard to bear the weight of his words--to know the things that keep him awake at night or the degree of guilt he feels over minor mistakes.  Sometimes I feel like I can't possibly be the mom he needs to guide him through the hardships and heart breaks that are yet to come, because surely I don't have the right advice or answers.

He's been driving down a bumpy road the past year and a half; learning to negotiate peer relationships while living so far from his safety net of friends and family who "get" him and his Keller-ness.  Sometimes that drive is more of a coast, a pleasant Sunday drive; but more often it involves break-neck speeds, squealing tires, flying gravel, deep potholes, and painfully-sudden brake checks.  

He's 10 now, and I know that as tough as things have been at times, we haven't even touched the tumultuous teen years that await us on the horizon.

I find comfort in my mama heart from our new ritual.  The talks, the tea, the fact that he still wants to spend that special time with me and isn't rushing off to text a friend, call a girl, or otherwise let me know that Mom isn't his most trusted confidante any more.

I know that I can't change the things that life will throw at my boy, and that there will come a time when he has secrets and stories that aren't meant for my ears.  

But maybe, even when that time comes, he will remember sitting up on the counter, sipping tea, and he will know there is nothing he could say to me that would change how much I love him.