Gettin’ his Spidey on.

When we arrived at the pumpkin patch last week, I asked Braden if he would like a face painting. “Yes!” Of all the options, including many small and cute cheek-sized designs, guess which one he chose?

And there was that moment when I realized I’d suggested this face painting business right at the beginning of the day.  There would be no pumpkin patch photos of him – just Mini Spiderman.  Just one moment.

Because on the heels of that I laughed inside and remembered, as always, that what is most important is not the appearance, but the experience.

Spiderman had a great day at the pumpkin patch.

This is what happens when I go to the bathroom to pee.

When I left the room he was making lovely drawings in his notebook.

If I’d had to take a dump, do you think he’d have progressed to his arms and face?

And then he was 4.

braden,

once upon a time on Valentines day I got a wonderful present

confirmation that you existed

the world has looked different every day since then

sometimes more fierce, sometimes softer, in spite of itself

because of you

the days have flown faster than I ever knew they could

and despite what I say about wanting you to slow down

i am also eager to see who you will be tomorrow

and the day after that

and the days and months and years after that

i know that before long

in fact
it will seem
like the blink
of an eye

i will have my answer

so many of these flying days will stack up against one another

that you will be a man

a man!

but for now I still get to be your hand holder and your scare chaser

your cheek kisser and your hair smoother

the one who you wake up in the morning and who puts you to sleep at night

and I get to sit by you at the table and watch you

as you flex your muscles while eating a carrot

your eyes lighting up with imagination and magic as you say

i will eat my vegables and then i will grow to be a strong, big daddy!

and then i will be a growned up!

right, mommy?

yes, baby
one day

but not yet today.

Happy Birthday, my beloved!
The world may sometimes seem fierce

but it will never be quite as fierce as you.

Love, Mommy

A sick day took him.

He didn’t need to take a sick day.  After all, he had nowhere to be, but with me. He had no way to call in sick, unless you count him coming up to me on Thursday afternoon, hands held out dramatically, with a glorious, thick streamer of snot hanging from his nose, saying, “Um. Mommy? I have a snot.”

Thursday night was full of the stuff nightmares are made of: he puked up part of his dinner because he was gagging on mucous, came to bed with me after his second screaming awakening made it clear I’d be running to his room all night long otherwise, kicked me repeatedly for the next 8 hours, woke at least once an hour screaming and crying, telling me it hurt and yelling “NO NO NO”, accused me of making his throat hurt (ouch, dude), refused to drink anything, and rounded it all out by peeing in the bed in the morning and then telling me to get up and make his breakfast.

I was so tired.  And so very grumpy.  Then, while I was peeling his wet underpants off of him, I suddenly smiled. I thought about how I had patted his back over and over again all night long. It reminded me so much of long nights when he was this little kid baby:

That was March ’08. I can’t believe it was that long ago. It seems like just yesterday.

But yesterday was forever ago. And it will never be again.

I looked at him, shivering before me after I got him out of the wet clothing. He looked back at me solemnly, and then reached his arms around my neck, climbing into my lap. He held on tight, snuggling his head into the curve of my neck, and we just rocked for a little while, together.

I mostly think that colds are from the very Devil himself; they are miserable, horrible things that torture us and make us feel as though a close cousin of death has crawled inside our faces and set up camp.  And when our kids are sick, it is the worst.  It is so awful to watch them suffer.

But sometimes I experience these tiny moments when I wonder if they are some kind of weird gifts to parents – obviously not in the times of worry and pain, but during those moments when our kids slow down and just want to be held again, loved again, rocked in our arms, or when they just nap in our laps again. These are gifts, even though given in sickness, and it is these little capsules of memories gone suddenly burst open, and a chance to teleport to another moment in time again, for just awhile, that make me smile even as he sniffles.

A sick day took him.

I was there where it delivered him, all day long.

Braden: “Mommy, I need to be fixed.”
Me: “You need to be fixed? Why, are you broken?”
Braden: “Yes, Mommy. I’m broken with sick.”

I am his designated fixer, and he is the spark of magic in my life.  I’m reminded, again, that whatever age he is right now, it’s my favorite one.

I am having a hurt.

I miss this time.

The further we go in, the more painfully aware I am of the no rewind button on my kid.

Totally still need that sticker on my forehead that says “appreciate today.”

(And pie, I really, really need chocolate pie. But that is another story entirely. I think I just cheapened this post? Fuck it. I’m sorry.)

In the rain.

I like rain.  I am opposed to the idea that it means you can’t still enjoy being outside.

I wrote a poem about it last year.

Braden loves to play in the rain.

He always has, and I’ve always allowed it.

I recently enjoyed running in the rain during a tropical storm for a couple of days. In Texas, any run without the hot, beating hell of the sun is pretty much awesome, though.

Last night we chose to eat at a Tex-Mex place for dinner – Chuy’s.  They have good food and margaritas, and there’s a fun patio with room for kids to run around in the grass and play.  We love sitting on the patio there.

Apparently, we’ll even do it in the rain.

There was only one other family out there. They were laughing at the whole thing, having a good time, too. I kind of think we should have gotten their number.

What do you like to do in the rain?

A whole bunch of random crap all at once. You’re welcome.

• I posted a review of this Wired Sea Cuff on my review blog – cleverly named: lotus reviews. I know, I know – my creativity astounds you.  The post is a giveaway post, so go find out what I think of the Wired Sea Cuff and then enter to win $50 to spend at Studio Jewel. (Ends TODAY 9pm CST)

(Coming up, I’ll be running review/giveaway posts about 2 different camera bags, as well. Keep your eye on the review blog if that kind of thing interests you. Subscribe here.)

• Because I know so many of you dig photography, I also wanted to tell you about a fun meme that a couple of my friends are doing.  It’s called “The Flip Side” and it gives you an opportunity to share a self portrait – reflection, shadow, or classic type portrait – every week.  This is a great incentive to practice the art of the self portrait if you want to increase your photography skill.  I am going to be playing along.

• The September issue of Room 704 is up. The theme is “Educate.”  I write/edit on that website, and I’ve got 3 posts there this issue, including one that basically outlines what a moron I was in grad school.  It’s fun to self deprecate.  At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

• I’m still running like a mofo. I’m currently using the Bridge to 10K app (picks up where C25K left off and trains you from 5K to 10K level).  Running makes me feel powerful and strong.  Yes. It is hard.  But POWERFUL! and STRONG!  Also, my legs look insanely better than I think they ever have before.  EVER.  So there’s that.

If you want to stay apprised of all the fitness nonsense I get up to, join me on Dailymile.

• I’m going to be running the Austin, TX Komen Race for the Cure on November 7th.  I’ll be talking about that here again more between now and then, but for now, I’d like to ask you to go ahead and think about sponsoring me.  I’d really like to raise a good chunk of money.

• Oh, and my kid is apparently in training to be a shoplifter.  Go figure.

Happy Thursday!

Better not drink all the booze. His teachers may need some.

Braden started a “Kid’s Day Out” program today. He’ll be going there twice a week for about 4.5 hours.

I made a joke on Twitter last night about it, where I may have said something like, “Braden is starting a “Kid’s Day Out” program tomorrow. I’m sad. And by sad, I mean, HELL YEAH BITCHEZ!!!!!!!!!!!1!1 *cough*”

Give or take a Hell yeah. Or a few exclamation points. Or something.

Okay, okay so those were my exact words.

I was really just kidding. I mean, it’s not as if I’ve had this written on my calendar for MONTHS in bright red ink, circled in double-wide black sharpie marker with large, swooping circles and underlined with pink glitter pen ink that almost screams I CAN’T WAIT, HOLY CRAP, I CAN’T WAIT.

Nope.

Who would do something like that? Pffft. Not me, that’s who. I’m a loving parent who never takes a moment with her son for granted.

No, you may not borrow my calendar to check on something real quick. Get your own damn calendar.

And it isn’t like I’m insanely stocked on party streamers and noise makers and booze and practically did flips all the way home from the damn place today. What kind of horrible parent do you take me for?

(Do not pay any attention to that pile of streamers and noise makers and booze over there. I am collecting for Goodwill. That’s the donation pile. Shut up. People who shop at Goodwill have to party too, DON’T THEY? Look at you, all High and Mighty, all “only us highly privileged people get to have parties with streamers and noise makers and booze.” You disgust me.)

Furthermore, I didn’t run out the door without even saying “Goodbye” to him, or telling the teacher his name. I didn’t forget to leave his lunch with him, and just throw it at one of the windows of the building as I was running away, deliriously screaming (or doing flips). And I didn’t yell something like, “YOU MAY NEVER SEE ME AGAIN!!!!” followed by mad cackling so loud it scared the birds out of the trees in a three mile radius.

I’m kind of baffled that you would even think any of those things. Where did you come up with that crap? Are you mentally unstable? I think you might need help.

I’d have to be as insane as you clearly are to do any of those things. I mean, I’d have to be plain out of my mind to do anything other than have been excited for him for the past week while at the same time feeling a weird tightness in my chest that I couldn’t shake.

I’d have to be kind of a crazy lunatic not to realize that, while cliched, this is literally the start of a long process where my child starts to cleave from me.  This is a thing I am both carefully, joyfully, preparing him for with everything I do for him every day and dreading with all the tiny fibers in my heart – the heart that clenched up a little this morning when I kissed him goodbye and I had to leave.

But I’m cool with it. Yeah, totally.  I didn’t feel kind of angsty while I was packing his lunch, I didn’t get a little sentimental when I wrote his name on a tag for his backpack, my heart didn’t swell and smoosh when I watched him walking to school with his Daddy, I didn’t take too many photos of him on his first day of school, and I didn’t frown a little when I got home and the house was blessedly quiet.

And empty.

Sigh.

This will be good for him.

I hope I can survive it.

(The booze will help. WOOOHOOOOOOOOO!)