Some things Bronson should never see unless I fully intend on giving it to him or plan on spending the next half hour indulging his obsession.

For example his bottle. If it’s drying on the counter, he becomes desperately hungry and thirsty. Same with a glass of water and Cheerios. Or the nobs on closet doors. Or the light in Ryan and I’s room. Or any string or paper, anywhere. The child fixates. He arches his back, twists his core, strains with exasperation. He needs it.

Many times I have something much more exciting in store for him. The little nob on the closet door doesn’t compare to a large orange ball that rolls on the ground and flies through the air. The light in a room, dims in comparison to the sun outside. I’ve got sweet potatoes or yogurt for him to eat (his favorite foods) instead of Cheerios.

It’s hard for him to move beyond what’s locked his attention.

But who can blame him?

Some days I can’t move beyond the pile of laundry or dishes. Sometimes I can’t move beyond whatever Ryan just said to me. Many times, I can’t see beyond my present situation.

God must find my fixations exasperating, knowing he’s got so much more in store for me if I’d just let him change my perspective.

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