It was a book I knew by heart. Which is not as much a testimony to my memorization skills as to the consequence of reading a favorite book a hundred times on the couch. The pictures in our particular version of The Little Engine That Could were especially sweet, and while I spent the first ninety reads looking at the text I eventually could enjoy the illustrations along with the children sitting beside me.  

"We must get over the mountain before the children awake!!" said all the dolls and toys to the Little Blue Engine. She was however doubtful of her own power, having never been over the mountain. But their pleading moved her past her misgivings. 

"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can... up up up faster and faster until at last she reached the top of the mountain!"

The current transition for Benjamin is going well. It has only been a week, but I am very pleased. I'll admit that I was skeptical about the whole thing, but then my history of doubt goes way back. Twelve years ago when the school district pointed me to a school half an hour a way I barely consented to pay a visit. Yet he thrived under that teacher's care for four years. When another teacher said he was ready for the public high school my eyebrows furrowed. Fortunately she was right. They skimmed over the plan for gradual change after a couple of days. Each time he had someone who was whispering in the background, "I think you can I think you can I think you can..."

There have been junctures in my life when I doubted my own ability. Labor comes to mind. But my midwives provided a strong voice of assurance, and each baby landed in my arms. In one photo my face registers complete awe. Moving from California seemed like an impossible task, made more complex because of the energy drain from a twin pregnancy I had not yet caught on to. When my mother was diagnosed with late stage breast cancer I had no confidence in my capacity to deal with her care. The first time I was brash enough to coordinate a conference in celebration of marriage it seemed highly unlikely that I could figure it out. Before we were married I remember being frightened at the possibility of having a special needs child.

But Someone thrums the mantra just behind my eyes. 

"I Think You Can I Think You Can I Think You Can..."