Philly in June

I took a wrong turn. 

 “looks like we are going to go to the farm!” 

In the rearview mirror I see you smiling. 

I’ve been on edge most of your life

More often than the calmness you deserve

I am snapping, twitching, or as you said last month,

“Going berserk”

Many will tell me that I am doing my best 

Maybe I am, but I am committed to better. 

It doesn't matter what has led me to be dysregulated 

I am here,

and I am Mommy. 

I forget the former too often. 

Point is, we are at the goat farm. 

You want to go play with the other kids 

You’re annoyed that I say “no, we are here to pick fruit”

I realize then, that I sound frustrated.  

Truthfully, I missed him, co-parenting is hard, and I wanted to connect in a way that I knew we both loved. 

Changing my tone, I ask if we could spend some time together picking berries. 

“We've spent some time apart. I miss you!” 

You’re quiet for a second and you take my hand.

“fine.”

We go to our spot and pick Goumi berries.  

Red, plump, sour, gooey.

June in Philly delivers. 

You’re hiding in the Goumi berry bush. 

We make small talk about them. 

Their plump-sour-gooey ripeness. What we could make? 

Pie? Syrup? Soda? 

“LOOOOK, MOMMY!” 

A small green fig grows 

“WOW! They are almost ripe! In the meantime, 

we can make tea from the fig leaves, can you pick a few?” 

Happily, you are up to the task. 

Next we collect some mint, lavender, oregano.

You are pulled to the fans blowing in the green houses. 

It’s moving angled metal,

 shifting air up, and down. 

Your arms waving to catch it. 

“Do you feel it Mommy?!” 

I do. 

Your joy and its wind and the freedom of presence snuggled between the two. 

We see a new path on our way to the bee balm. 

They’ve built a bench. 

We sit for a while before we move on to the sour cherries. 

You boast of your tallness and ability to reach the trees 

(As I pull the branches towards you, we are a team. )

Towards the car we run “Race yah!” 

Back and forth “you’re it! You’re it!” 

Running, laughing 

I feel between the wind again. 

At home, we begin the work of de-seeding our Goumi Berries

and Cherries. 

You are so patient. 

Despite feeling like it was taking “foreverrrrr mommy!!!” 

You stayed, to pick those seeds out  with me 

 gobble the Goumi berry gutz all the way up! 

We ate so much of what we picked

we only made about one cup of compote.