Out behind their grandmas’ house, my two little boys rocked back and forth on a two-person swing. I smiled as I walked nearer; they’re really growing into friends.
“Don’t take a picture!” commanded my seven-year-old, Li’l D.
“I wasn’t going to,” I said. “I’m trying to take more pictures with my heart these days.”
“That’s good,” Li’l D replied. “Sometimes kids just want their privacy.”
“I hear you,” I said. I do. From now on, I’ll only post about Li’l D with his permission, save perhaps in rare cases where his part in a vignette is peripheral.
Minutes later, I climbed into my car for a rare date with my husband. As I did, my mind was on those two boys swinging in the backyard.
Little by little, they’re getting bigger. Sometimes it aches to see how quickly they’re growing. Times like yesterday, though, my heart simply swells that I get to see them grow into their vocabularies, opinions, and friendship … no pictures required.
My two-year-old hides behind his hands, then throws his arms out wide while shouting, “Boo!”
I shriek as if startled, which makes him scream in delight before devolving into giggle-fits.
We repeat this over and over. Sometimes, we’ll do it a hundred times in one sitting.
My seven-year-old recently asked, exasperated, why I pretend to be afraid.
I replied, already wistful, “Your brother will understand soon enough that he’s not actually scaring me. So while he still believes it, I’ll keep on shrieking. I’ll keep on cherishing the sweet sound of him laughing, knowing he’ll soon enough be on to other joys.”
“Oh. Will you scream if I do it, too?”
“Sure, if your brother’s around.”
So he tried, too, and I shouted in mock horror.
Now, for at least a little while, both my little boys take turns scaring me, and I’m happy.
I might choose
three very different things
meaningful and moving to me.
my older son
held his sixth birthday party.
So, today, these are three things
so prominent in my heart
it’s impossible to think
much beyond them.
why would I want to?
My senior year of college, I took a stress relief seminar for upper level credit. I didn’t expect to get anything more than credit from it.
I smirked when the instructor said rainbows and bubbles both ease stress. Sure they do! But when she brought out bubbles and rainbow pictures, I realized she was right. I was absorbed completely by rainbows and especially bubbles, which shine rainbow colors in the right light.
I watched bubbles drifting through the air today and felt that calm rippling through me. I watched my toddler, Littler J, try to catch bubbles Ra blew and thought how perfect life is made by seemingly simple things. Read more…
My newly one-year-old, Littler J, awakened howling at 4 a.m. today.
(He’s a happy baby, but not first thing in the morning.)
We’re letting him go back to sleep if he awakens before 5 a.m. these days. Mama needs to start getting some uninterrupted sleep.
Five-year-old Li’l D didn’t know this. I heard some shuffling in their shared room and called out, “Leave him in his crib, please!” Read more…
I’d just picked up my wedding gown when I dropped off my car for servicing in late September 2013.
I meant to transfer the gown to my husband’s car, but couldn’t do so without first showing it to P, the mechanic who always seems to help me when my car has troubles.
She loved my dress. She wished me a happy wedding and all the best for my baby-to-come, then only visible as the slightest belly bump.
Since we last parted ways, I’ve been wed and had a baby and celebrated my husband’s promotion to assisting directing and left my old job and started a new one. I’ve probably put at least 20,000 miles on my car, who treats me well though I let her languish in untidiness and without hubcap covers or driver side door handle.
All these big changes Read more…
“I love you!” I shouted to my younger brother as he walked toward the airport a couple of hours ago. “Thanks for being such a great uncle!”
He smiled awkwardly and waved once more before disappearing into the airport. I teared up as I pulled away, wishing I could have him closer a little while longer. Three days wasn’t enough.
My four-year-old son wanted to wear his cowboy boots on his first day at his new school.
I said no, again, for reasons we’d already discussed. “You’re a bad mom,” he mumbled as he climbed into an empty box. His cowboy boots flew out of the box one at a time.
There wasn’t much to say to that, honestly. In Li’l D’s almost four weeks as a big brother, he’s been remarkably patient and sweet with two tired, grumpy parents who’d previously given him most their attention. He’s protective of his little brother anyway, practically growling at the pediatrician’s office as we drive by. “I won’t let them give him shots! I won’t!”
As we drove to his new school, I realized I was much more nervous than he.
He was enjoying a drive to school. I was thinking about Transitions-with-a-distinctly-capital-T.
He was excited for a new opportunity. I was thinking about new opportunities past, and how he no longer has a name tag on a desk at his old school. Read more…