I am married to a man of few words. When asked how his day was, he has been known to reply, well it's over. Classic, no?
Thankfully that does not describe him in his entirety. He does talk about his day, when he can get a word in edgewise for all my babbling. Jay, Kamden ate a carrot for lunch, Jay, I had a cup of coffee, Jay I got some work done....and so on and so forth.
He is bombarded with the mundane details of my day, when I am done, the silence probably feels good.
He is also my bestest friend in the universe (what am I 12?) and we talk about everything and anything. Sometimes I even shut up long enough to hear what he has to say. And guess what? He rarely disappoints. He keeps me in check. Trust me. I need him.
Together, we created this adorable creature.
I know! You want to dine on thighs. I hear you.
By this age (around one year) he had a healthy vocabulary, one of his first words was "ditty" for dirty. I need to pull out the videos and watch some of that cuteness.
By two he was speaking in full sentences.
By the time he was three, he had no baby accent left. He actually never really did, at least not in comparison to his younger brother, who at age four, still has one (not that I am complaining, I love it!).
At three he started preschool and upon arriving home, would tell me, in great detail, everything that his blanket had done at school that day. At that time, his blanket was like his imaginary friend and everything he did, his blanket did too. I loved it. Here was my boy, who told me everything. I was in denial that it would last forever.
By the time he hit Kindergarten, the answers to my questions about school were becoming yes or no's. Sigh. It was already starting. You know, the man traits. Whereby they become men of few words. Or in this case, boy.
When prompted with specific questions, he will let loose with some details of the day. But only when he is in the mood. I get it. He's been stimulated all day at school, when he comes home he is ready to decompress. Maybe relax with a drink. What is he 35 yo CEO?
I kid, I kid. Even kids need to decompress. They need to be kids. They need to play with the millions of toys that clutter the house (No, I never threaten to get rid of the toys when they claim there is nothing to do. WHO would do that?)
At school all day he is busy sitting still, learning, absorbing and maybe having a little fun too. I know when he gets home, he is ready to leave that all behind.
But my boy, who used to be with me 24-7, is now away from me for five hours a day, with a short lunch break which consists of questions about what he wants for lunch, requests to quit running around the living room and come and eat already, to admonishments about chewing with his mouth closed (please teach your children this skill if you want them to have any friends when they are adults - trust me on this one) and for the love of all that is holy, eat over your plate already.
Lunch is then inhaled, dishes are put away (also teach them that useful skill - how hard is it to put dishes in the dishwasher?) and the crumb festival that remains is swept up and off to school he goes again.
As a mother, I want to retain a connection with my son. One that will last a lifetime but not one that involves him still living in my basement when he is 35. Nor do I want to be the kind of mother that his wife feels she has to compete with. Who wants to be THAT mother? Where I want to be is somewhere smack dab in the middle of that.
I feel like the sheer quantity of time he is away from me is pulling him a little bit further away.
I know I can't have him forever. He has to fly out on his own. I just hope that every now and then he'll call to tell me what's up. And stop by for dinner every now and then. You know, if we live in the same city. What? Following him around the country isn't cool? All I am saying is that he moves somewhere warm, you know, like NOT the Arctic, Jay and I might move too. You know, to see the grandkids.
This boy? This creation of our love? He is pretty damn amazing and I hope he always lets us in on a little bit of that.
I guess we should be building skills now to survive the black hole of teenage hood, no?