Just stuff
I love my boy. He's going to be 8 in a fes weeks. EIGHT. I'm the mom of a nearly 8 year old. This floors me. I don't feel like I'm the mom of a nearly eight year old. I feel like I'm a corporate professional, on a career path towards some sort of success, and part of the way there. But in this fantasy I'm also living in a big city, not a mom at all, and a savvy single for many, many, many years. In this fantasy two of the things I love very, very much are not even a factor. This is why it's a fantasy. That life is appealing, and was appealing, but I wouldn't want it now. I believe I would find it incredibly empty and eventually pointless. So much energy invested in staying in the same place, even though I would have already seen the world.
Anyway, while in CT - which I loved by the way; it's gorgeous, so many rocks - I slept very little mostly because there was a device called a TV connected to something called cable, and I got sucked into a show called NCIS. I've seen this show before and I enjoy it quite a bit. Apparently the network it's on decided to run a marathon. Sigh.
I called my boy both morning and night and even though he claims to have missed me terribly, his conversation was mostly "hi, mom" and "Oh, I got a yellow; but that's ok," and "I'm watching [insert child programming here] right now, do you want to speak with [bubby or grandma]?" Gotta love the boy. Right now, he's standing at my shoulder with a transformer toy of great volume and a plunger. Yes, Grandma finally caved in and bought him his very own plunger. He was using it as a pogo stick not but 3 minutes ago.
What is a nearly 8 year old? Clever, lop-smiled, gap-toothed, full-throtled balls of relentless energy and sound. He still loves a hug, and asks to be snuggled. He makes horrible noises and then laughs hysterically at them; snicker, and repeat. He still likes to have stories read to him, but can now read stories to me. He's a good loser at UNO and an even better winner. He's too long for his size 6/7's and too skinny for his 7/8's. Fortunately, he still doesn't care what I put on him to wear. He likes oatmeal and spinach (not at the same time - but I bet I could make that work); he prefers soy-milk over regular, and will eat tofu. Will request Thai food, asparagas, stir fry, and loves beans and rice.
He still sings with passion, and even likes my equisite taste in music.
I love my boy.
Anyway, while in CT - which I loved by the way; it's gorgeous, so many rocks - I slept very little mostly because there was a device called a TV connected to something called cable, and I got sucked into a show called NCIS. I've seen this show before and I enjoy it quite a bit. Apparently the network it's on decided to run a marathon. Sigh.
I called my boy both morning and night and even though he claims to have missed me terribly, his conversation was mostly "hi, mom" and "Oh, I got a yellow; but that's ok," and "I'm watching [insert child programming here] right now, do you want to speak with [bubby or grandma]?" Gotta love the boy. Right now, he's standing at my shoulder with a transformer toy of great volume and a plunger. Yes, Grandma finally caved in and bought him his very own plunger. He was using it as a pogo stick not but 3 minutes ago.
What is a nearly 8 year old? Clever, lop-smiled, gap-toothed, full-throtled balls of relentless energy and sound. He still loves a hug, and asks to be snuggled. He makes horrible noises and then laughs hysterically at them; snicker, and repeat. He still likes to have stories read to him, but can now read stories to me. He's a good loser at UNO and an even better winner. He's too long for his size 6/7's and too skinny for his 7/8's. Fortunately, he still doesn't care what I put on him to wear. He likes oatmeal and spinach (not at the same time - but I bet I could make that work); he prefers soy-milk over regular, and will eat tofu. Will request Thai food, asparagas, stir fry, and loves beans and rice.
He still sings with passion, and even likes my equisite taste in music.
I love my boy.