Things I want to remember, and perhaps Mythankfulboy will want to someday know, about this week:
Planning: We more-or-less planned his 14th birthday party, which is coming up soon. He wants to do fondue, either Minute To Win It challenges or Who’s Line Is It Anyway party games, and a sleepover with his closest 8-10 friends. And parents are invited for everything but the sleepover. I love this kid.
Trouble: B’s middle school vice principal called to tell me B’s iPod had been confiscated for the day because he had it out in the hallway. B had already told me the story and that I would be getting a call, so I was, I guess, easygoing about the whole thing. I thanked him for letting me know. The man was practically apologetic.
Outing: We spent a day out, having lunch, buying mascara (for me), buying shoes (for him, which he can’t have until his birthday), eating Mexican restaurant white cheese dip, going to Gamestop for a new set of gaming headphones (paid for by him, for him), finishing at Target where he went in alone to buy Valentines for me and for his dad. I got the following texts that I didn’t hear over the car radio, so he was on his own (capitalization and punctuation all his):
I CAN’T FIND THE CARD AISLE
WHAT THE BAAAAALLS
found them! on to the candy…
would you want anything other than Russell stover?
my way to checkout
Gratitude: When we got home I went into the bathroom, and then came the inevitable, “Mom?” I thought, “Of course, as soon as I go to the bathroom” and sighed in my head before I said, “Yes?” He was now standing outside the door, and he said, “Thanks for taking me out and spending the day with me.” Oh. Well, his timing wasn’t great, but what a sweet thing. I called, “Thanks for spending it with me. I had a great time.” He said, “Me too” and walked away. Then the dog started whining outside the door.
Breakthrough: B spent Friday night and Saturday morning at his dad’s (and going to dodgeball). When he got home he was a little frustrated with his dad because he had asked if they could go get me something for V-day and he either forgot or decided against it. I, of course, said no biggie. Then his dad’s wife texted B to tell him she hadn’t forgotten, and asking if she could come pick him up sometime that afternoon to go get me something. B read the text and turned to me in frustration that his dad hadn’t remembered. I didn’t say anything, but looked intently at him with a very slight smile. We looked at each other a moment, after which he said, “It’s really nice of S, though.” He asked if it was okay with me and I said of course. A few hours later we left to have our day, so it didn’t happen, but when he was signing the card he got for his dad, I said “You know, you –“ at which point he interrupted me and said, “I know, I should write it to Dad and S.” And he did. Just like that.
Prayer: I am thankful, thankful, thankful for the sweetness of this Valentine week in which fondue and vice principals intermingled, the words “balls” and “Russell Stover” happened in the same text series, and B held love for me and appreciation for his step-mother simultaneously in his heart. Amen