Equilibrium or Something

            I haven’t updated our blog in quite a while, and I had to stop and wonder, “Why?”  Is this hiatus merely due to the cyclonic pace of our life this past year?  Or, have we reached a state of normalcy with Evan, now home 3 years, and we are no-longer blog-worthy?

            Evan is now 9 years old.  Some days he seems older, certainly larger.  His appearance is deceiving - he has a wide, thick build, but next to children his age, his height is not unusual.   Our recent move means that he can now attend a school for the deaf, and he is doing quite well there. 

            Does this mean that I am Henry Higgins to Evan’s Eliza Doolittle?  Not by a long-shot, dear friends. 

Equilibrium.  A state in which all forces are equal.  This can be construed as peaceful state with no apparent changes.   However, in reality, it is a state of continued pressure from all sides, all competing forces cancelling each other out. 

            There are peaceful moments that give us pause to glance at each other and cautiously comment on the harmony of the moment.  Evan recently even started giving my mother an occasional spontaneous hug.  Mostly, I have learned to be the balance that keeps Evan’s sometimes tornadic (it’s not a word, but it should be!)  behavior in check:

            Evan embraced the fine art of instigation in his former life.  Surely, this was a very effective method of garnering attention, and he still resorts to this dark art with frequency.

             Evan has a huge personality, and he likes to ‘control the room.’  This doesn’t always work well within the dynamics of a small family. 

           

            Evan started out with a lot of anger.  These days, we see more smiles, but the fire still burns.

            Evan has more energy than the rest of the family combined. 

            This is all part of who Evan is, I do think he would be larger than life no matter what his history. 

            Some people join a family and fit neatly into the vacant space.  They fill a gap - maybe one you didn’t know you had until that person came along. They don’t change the landscape much – they complement the overall picture. 

            Others jump in, cannon-ball style, causing disarray and more than a few annoyances.  They change everything.  Waves ensue; some water is splashed out, permanently changing the surroundings.  There are complaints from some, laughter from others, and often moments of jaw-dropping shock. 

Evan is all canon-ball.

            But then…slowly….eventually…the water finds its new level.  Activities resume.  Even the irritation subsides (mostly).  The one who made the big splash also changes; he becomes part of the community.  You can’t jump in the pool, and not get wet.

            Sunday, I brought home two gold fish from the church bazaar.  Evan held his plastic bag and lovingly caressed the side of it with his cheek.  We poured both fish into a temporary jar until we could go out and get 2 proper bowls. 

            Evan cut a paper heart and taped it to the side of the jar.   Then, he took a copy paper print-out I had made with a photo of him and his brother Ben.  Evan neatly cut the small rectangle out, and taped this to the side of the jar also. 

At first, I thought he had made a mistake. 

The paper was backwards… I started to correct him, “Turn it around.”

            He didn’t notice.  Evan was busy.  His face resting on his hands, nose close to the glass, the Evanator was  lovingly staring at his new pets that were now swimming slowly past a giant mural of their two new boys.