Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Long and lean and I don't like it

My son, the boy, is a mess. A mess in the best way possible. He got in the car today, excited to discuss the fact he learned today that there were exactly 31 bathrooms in the White House. Instead of commenting on that being a large number or wondering if how much square footage they had in the actual structure, he took a different tack. "Well, Mom. If President Obama has a taco night go bad over there, they'll have plenty of bathrooms for people to use." Who says that kind of thing? Uh, my son...and I loved every bit of it. While G was at her singing group practice, several moms and kids went on the church playground to enjoy this glorious day and breathe in some of the lovely fresh air. I noticed how he moved when he played. He has become long and lanky, a lean and mean first grade machine. Not an ounce of baby fat on that body as evidenced by the fact that he had to constantly pull his pants up. Like every 45 seconds. I don't think a belt would really help him, because it would be cinched so tight he would have a major crisis if he had taco night with the Obamas. I know I can't keep him small forever, but I want to in so many ways. It melts my heart into my very soul when he still grabs my hand as we walk down the street...or runs up to me with the heavenly odor of sweaty little boy(that has not yet changed to the hellish odor of stenchy older boy)and gives me a kiss and a quick hug before he runs back to climb into the playhouse. I live for these moments...draw energy from them. What a gift all my children are and what a gift that spectacled little sweaty ball of fun is every day of my life. Even though it breaks my heart to see him grow up so fast, I can't wait to see what he is going to do in this world. I sure hope it involves taco night at the White House.

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