Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Wicked proud

Last night the big kid sat on the couch, took up the whole couch with his sprawl actually, and turned on the TV. I was sitting at the kitchen table and watching a squirrel crack his head on a gravestone. We could hear all the other kids outside shrieking and laughing and catcalling. I was suddenly filled with a sense of.. time and how fast it passes.

My oldest son, you know the one who think he is the smartest thing to ever walk this earth? He used to called pharmacy’s..


The little one once walked into the kitchen and declared that he knew where babies come from. I asked him, cautiously, where…

“From Virginia!”

When they were very little I once dropped the cordless phone into a pot of boiling spaghetti after a long and very bad day. I sat down on the floor with my back against the cabinet and cried. The older kid came over, crawled into my lap and promised to make everything okay again. And by doing that.. he did.

How did he go from sitting in my lap to rudely occupying the entire couch with his impossibly long limbs? How come they both comb their own hair now? When did they start not only liking Monty Python but actually getting the jokes? Why are we watching old black and white horror movies and I am the only one jumping at the scary bits?

Excuse me Mr. Time but I think you stole ten years of my life. Where did you put it?! I want some of it back. I want to take more pictures. I want to go outside more, I want to buy more ice cream cones and chase more rainbows. Because suddenly I am sitting in the kitchen alone and no one, at all, wants to color with me.

I am not sure I know these two miniature men. They sleep with their doors shut. They demand male products like green soap and deodorant that promises to make women love you. They shake new peoples hands without my prompting anymore and they check the mail on their own. They only kiss me if I ask. They blush if I touch them in public. They have come to realize my knowledge of everything great and good is woefully inferior to theirs and they make their own mac and cheese.

I am becoming obsolete.. Except that I can drive and I control the cash flow.

Now and then I catch a glimpse of them that slows down time, puts things back where I want them. Last night I heard them talking about me and what they got me for my birthday. They wanted to reuse an old gift bag because.. in the words of the little guy…

“That will make her wicked proud!”

and I am.


The Art of Politics said...

Such a lovely post! I've really enjoyed your stepped up posting schedule and your excellent writing. So much so that I've linked to your blog here:


Reducing in HM said...

Thank you so much! There is no inspiration as effective as a compliment!

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