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A happy child

Baseball season is in high gear – B is playing on two teams, which is the result of two seasons, spring and summer, overlapping.  Very different teams and coaching, to boot.  He seems okay with the running around and the transitions.  The hardest part is making sure the correct pants and practice or game jersey is clean.  There are worse things.

We’ve had a wonderful visit from Grandaddy and Nini, and they are planning a return next month, to which we’re looking forward.  There were too many “thankful for Grandaddy and Nini” nights to count – before they got here, while they were here, and after they left.  I do remember one night, though, when B said “I’m thankful for all the things Grandaddy is building, and for Nini for being awesome.”  He saw the look on my face and quickly added, “Not that Grandaddy isn’t awesome.  He’s awesome, too!”

We also had a fantastic “crew” weekend of just the boys and moms, or at least some of them, at the beach, thanks to one set of grandparents who own a beautiful beach house.  Best Mother’s Day ever.  Precious people, precious time.  10 boys getting along beautifully.  Even 2 Mother’s Day serenades (sweet, yes; also quirky, but that’s our boys).  B and I were thankful for the trip and the people for days on end, and I found myself just yesterday telling B, a little tearfully, that I was thankful that he gave me new friends I didn’t know I needed.

Tonight we studied for a math test, and, for once, it wasn’t all that hard to decipher what was being taught (thank heavens for the internet and smart people who like to talk about math). B picked it up easily once we did a little of it together.  This left time to cut up, resulting in tickling, pinching, and wrestling, and he sorta fell off a chair at one point (I barely tapped him!)  When we lit the chalice tonight, he said he was thankful for me for explaining math to him.  I said I was thankful for how much we laugh, which can even make math fun.  He was clearly not ready to settle down, and he started doing a sound-switch technique he borrowed from his friend O, which involves swapping the first sound in two words or two syllables, so that “math test” becomes “tath mest”.  Once he started, I couldn’t shut him off, so I eventually kissed him loudly on the forehead and shouted goodnight over his verbal antics and laughter, and he continued until I couldn’t hear him anymore.

It is a blessing to have a happy child.

 
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Posted by on May 17, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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Savoring

It’s been a while since I have sat down with the computer to record Mythankfulboy’s evening thoughts.  Baseball season hit and grandparents visited and I acquired pneumonia – sometimes life feels too big for quiet reflection.  Of course, that is probably precisely when it should be done.

For days and days of the period, B was thankful for his Grandaddy and Nini – my father and stepmother.  He was thankful for them before they arrived (because they were coming), while they were here (“For everything Grandaddy does for us and for how awesome Nini is.  I mean, Grandaddy is awesome, too….”), and after they’d gone (because we had such a great time and Grandaddy brought and built a cover for a generator for B’s pitching machine) and for the generator for my house and he took B bowling and, and, and…

Last night, around 10:30 (WAY too late for B to be going to bed on a school night), I flopped down on the side of his bed and said, “Honey, I am just plain thankful for you.  For everything about you.”  He smiled a knowing, but appreciative smile in the chalice light.  He said, “I’m thankful for you, too, and that we’re going to the beach with our friends this weekend.  It’s really nice that I can be with my friends and with you at the same time.”

13 years old, still wants to hang with his mom.  Still snuggles with his Nini, even when she falls asleep on his shoulder.  Savoring…

 
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Posted by on May 8, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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The Crew, and hearing respect

It is a fascinating thing to watch the development of your child’s friendships.  B has fretted over the years about his place in the pecking order of popularity (“Mom, I think I’m, like, the fifth most popular boy in my class”).  Lately, though, B finds himself hanging out with a group of boys who see themselves as a group (Tonight he said, “We’re calling ourselves ‘The Crew'”).  He knows a few from baseball, a couple from classes, and at least one from his friendship with another of the boys.  They belong to different 7th grade teams and homerooms, but they still identify as a group.  They are not the popular kids, and, as of yet, aren’t geeks or stoners or goth.  They are nice, smart, athletic kids with lovely moms and dads who all seem to be as happy as I am to watch this band of boys congeal.  This is good.

After a sleepover with The Crew, a baseball game, and then an outing to a giant room full of moon bounces with The Crew, my boy is tired. I told him about my day: between episodes of running him around, I fixed the light on the back porch, determined the pagoda broken in a winter storm last year can’t be fixed and has to come down, drilled out the broken-off dowel where the screen door is broken, and got a first coat of paint on the wood shed.  I also talked to his Nini and his Grandaddy, at different times.  I told him about the amazing thing my dad said to me.

By way of background, Nini is my stepmother, and a dear, dear friend.  I said something to my father about something nice she had done, and he said “Well, she loves you, Honey”.  I told him I knew that, and I loved her deeply, too, but it was still an unexpected thing she did.  He said, “Well, she also respects  you.  And I probably don’t say it because I think you know it, but I respect you, too, Darlin.”  B softly breathed “Wow” and came and sat beside me and searched my eyes for tears.  I looked down at him and said “I am so blessed to have a parent who feels that way, but more importantly, says it out loud to me.  And I am really, really grateful that he shows me how to say those important things out loud so that I know how to do it, too.”

Before he drifted off I asked him for what he was thankful.   “The Crew.”   “Me too”, I replied.

 
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Posted by on September 29, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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I am, apparently, not the luckiest person in the world

For some reason B had his Grandaddy and Nini’s house on his mind last night, and said he was thankful for their home.  That it was cool, and it was fun to be there.  I told him that I had heard so many discussions about war today on the radio, that I was reminded again today of how lucky I am to live in a place where I don’t have to see war everyday, even though our country is “at war”.  There was a long silence, and I eventually added, “So I must be the luckiest person in the whole world to live the way I do and to have you”, to which B replied, “No, that would be Justin Beiber.”

 
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Posted by on October 14, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

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