Aware of surroundings - cannot find worm

I have started a new life. The image of this life is me sitting still and observing a pale green worm slowly crawling on a shiny big leaf. Sadly the essence of November renders it impossible to actually find a fresh worm sliding up on a new strong leaf. I will close my eyes and try not to equal my particular worm with that of The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle - I have to have some imagination of my own - and with some luck I will enter a superior state of zen or whatever. Oops I forgot, Joshua wants to ride his Winnie the Puh car around in the flat. He pulls on my pyjama pants and makes noises (they are a bit like mating noises of some birds in the wild - push back that notion and please continue) - impossible to ignore. What is it with our children's enormous ability to get our attention? That must be a strong drive by both of us: Joshua to get my attention and me giving it in all situations. Like yesterday when I picked up the receiver to phone a particular good friend that I have not talked to for a few weeks.
Maja is playing nicely in her room, Joshua is busy emptying the contents of the kitchen drawers (he looks like out of a cartoon where he stands bent over the drawer and throws things over his shoulder on to the floor) and I am actually standing in front of the espresso machine contemplating if I should venture a try for a double cappuccino or not. I see the golden moment and picks up the phone instead, coffee can wait - I never make good ones anyway.
My friend and I speak about three lines each before my children's radar has started to shake in indignation that their particular mother is not paying them them full attention:
What?! She is no longer observing us. Can that be? What about all that crap about green worms creeping up leaves??? She should be in quiet observation right now. We have to do something about this. NOW.
And they do. Brilliantly. Maja has one of her worst fits ever, screaming, kicking and hitting me, Joshua and everything in her way. I try to ignore it and listen to my friend's very disturbing account of her eldest daughter trying to combat swine flu. At one point I am holding up the door handle to Maja's room to prevent her coming out. My god she is strong! She must be hanging with all her sixteen kilos on the handle. Joshua is standing at my legs, clutching my jeans and crying his eyes out. His face is red and his cheek very hard and pointy.
What do I do? I contemplate running upstairs, shutting the bedroom door and ignore the fact that I have children at all. But I guess I am a woman with some sense of propriety and instead I tell my friend that I will call her back. Obviously it is impossible to leave Joshua alone. I sigh and hang up.
Worms, think worms. This is an opportunity for growth. Take it. Go in there with a humble countenance and try to understand her. Be her. A three-year-old that is angry, tired and only wants mother's attention - or something like that.
I have a godsend thought. I will ask her what I can do for her. What does Maja want? What could this little child with her red eyes, scruffy hair and a array of different types of clothing want?
This question takes her back for a while long enough to calm her down. She ponders for a while. I renew my invitation to do something for her and she looks at me. Her face is soft and wet.
"Do you see my tears?", she asks.
"I see your tears", I answered.
The rest is history. Happy to say it worked. An hour later I phone my friend again. Joshua is napping and Maja is constructing a farmhouse out of Lego. My friend and I were able to talk for thirty one minutes and twenty six seconds.
It pays out to master the art of empathy. A lesson in the worm-finding business.

The Blond Chick