To The Boy

We were sitting, you on your DS and me reading while snacking on cauliflower with cucumber dill dip, when you asked if you could try a bite. I, knowing your extremely picky palette, was not exactly hopeful that you would enjoy but acquiesced anyway partially out of morbid curiosity imagining what sort of gagging noise and horrid face you might make this time after you had barely touched your tongue to it. To my surprise, you didn’t squint your face up and making your usual round of retching noises. Instead, it was a face of mild interest followed by only half a grimace, but in my steadfast watchfulness I noticed the smile threatening to spill forth before you opened your mouth.

“Not bad,” you said. “It has a bit of an aftertaste, but I can DILL with it.”

You didn’t burst out laughing, but looked at me knowingly, cunningly even. The joke laid out so well, so punny, that I couldn’t stop my giggles giving that look on your face a little more strength and a whole lot more satisfaction.

I was struck in that moment how it seems that overnight you’ve become something all your own. In the blink of an eye almost, you grew from the sandy blond baby who laughed uncontrollably at the silliest things to making me laugh with your own quick wit, puns, and smartassery.

You’ve evolved from loving any sort of music I play to finding your own styles and loves, to discovering things that speak to your own core.

We watch movies or read books together and notice different things gathering different meanings from what we see or read and enjoying the chance to talk about it and enlighten each other.

You have your own taste in clothes no longer content to let me pick it all out and want your hair your way worn the way you want.

I look at you, a perfect mixture of me and your father…you with his eyebrows and my freckles, his eyes and my nose, his lips and my smirk and it's hard not to think of you as my baby. It seems nearly impossible that you, almost 10, have grown from the tiny little wiggler that thought it quite hilarious to play in the toilet or eat cat food or shove a green bean up your nose to the almost-tall-as-me ball of limitless energy you are now.

I see my influence, assuredly, whenever we talk, when you make me laugh, when you give me that look of exasperation because I. just. Don’t. get. It. I can’t look at you without seeing a little bit of me, can’t talk to you without knowing that I’ve been someone you love and look up to, and that certainly makes me proud, full to bursting. But, I suppose the thing that makes me proudest is that same independence that shocked me as a sat giggling at your little pun. I love that you are becoming your own self not content to mirror me, to share in everything I love because I love it. I am so proud to watch you explore and to want to exert your own identity on the world, to seek out what makes you happy unafraid that I won’t like what you do. You only care if *you* like it and that is an incredible feat at just shy of 10 years.

I want so desperately for you to be your own man, and I see you are headed in just that direction. It thrills me to no end to see these changes in you, changes you are unafraid to make because you know through and through that I will love you always and forever no matter what you like or who you are. I have told you that time and again, but it means so much to see that you have taken that to heart and are content knowing that even if you do listen to dubstep, I love you no less even while I squint my face and make retching noises.

The Gift of Time

It's Secret Subject Swap Day! This week, 16 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My Subject is: Mother's Day, what is the BEST present you ever received as a mom OR gave to your mom.

It was submitted by: http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com/

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I don’t think Ive ever discussed it here on my blog, but on a Myers-Brigg inventory, I am an INFJ (introverted, intuitive, feeling, judging type). In a nutshell, it means that I crave authenticity and deep connections. I am passionate about issues that interest me and get deeply involved in those issues. As a parent, I foster independence in my child. In friendships, I want soul mates. And, in relationships I want actions not words. No matter how complicated my inner world is, I appreciate a simple life. I tend to put a fair amount of stock into the MBTI given that I am a counseling major, but it really does encapsulate the basic foundation of my personality even down to the weaknesses.

It’s that foundation—the need for authentic connections and the simplicity—that really means it isn’t necessarily the gift itself but the thought behind it that matters when someone gives me something. Given that I’m not a traditional kind of person, which I really don’t think has anything to do with my personality type, I don’t necessarily care about getting gifts on Mother’s Day. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I will totally accept one. ha. But, it isn’t a necessity.

In that regard the greatest gift I’ve ever gotten is being able to spend time with The Boy.

Awww. Sounds wretchedly cheesy doesn’t it?

It’s the truth, though.

I’m divorced and have been since 2008. That means I have to give the kiddo up generally every other weekend though we don’t really have a stable, set schedule. So, Mother’s Day doesn’t always happen on my weekends. We manage to work it out, though, and rearrange things if it happens that I won’t have him on MD or his father won’t have him on FD. Things are easy (perhaps because I overlook a lot of bullshit for the sake of ensuring the two of them have a good relationship not strained by tension), and I appreciate that. Mother’s Day is just one of those things that people do, it seems. They rush to buy gifts, give them, and get back to their own interests and lives, so right now all I want is to enjoy the little moments I have with my boy before he’s the one rushing around himself. For me, the greatest gift is that extra time and the extra appreciation. Evan never complains about weekends being changed around. In fact, that’s the way it has worked out this year, and he’s actually pretty ecstatic to be here for his mom. On Sunday, we’ll hang out more than usual. He’ll probably hold my hand when we watch a movie and make sure that he gives me less attitude when I ask him to help me clean up. He might even volunteer to help out without me even having to ask him (Whoa!). We’ll probably watch something old school that I loved when I was a kid so I can share my nostalgia with him and be enthralled with his excitement over something that brought me joy (or be crushed when he hates it like when I showed him The Labyrinth. I almost disowned him). Popcorn, sarcasm, MST3K style jokes no matter what we watch, dinner at my mom’s (for which I am making lemon sour cream cheesecake)… 

What gift could top that anyway?

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Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

http://www.BakingInATornado.com Baking In A Tornado

http://berghamchronicles.blogspot.com The Bergham’s Life Chronicles

http://spatulasonparade.blogspot.com Spatulas on Parade

http://dinoheromommy.com/ Dinosaur Superhero Mommy

http://themomisodes.com The Momisodes

http://stacysewsandschools.blogspot.com/ Stacy Sews and Schools

http://sparklyjenn.blogspot.com/ Sparkly Poetic Weirdo

http://gndisney.wordpress.com Disneyland in Kentucky

http://www.southernbellecharm.com Southern Belle Charm

http://thelieberfamily.com The Lieber Family

http://www.someoneelsesgenius.com Someone Else’s Genius

http://thethreegerbers.blogspot.ch Confessions of a part-time working mom

http://batteredhope.blogspot.com Battered Hope

http://www.smalltalkmama.com Small Talk Mama

http://singlemumplusone.blogspot.com Searching for Sanity