I was watching out the window…. you know, pretending NOT to be watching out the window.
He hopped out of the car first, turning around to help his big sister down.
As they made their way up the front walk, their second full day of school already a memory, she moved into the lead…clearly the expert in being dropped off after school. She turned around a few times, making sure her kindergarten brother was close behind.
I watched discreetly. They were smiling and hurrying to the door, anxious to spill the days events at my feet. I did a few mental hand-springs: I have this down. Would you look at them? Uniforms still mainly clean (despite the small dude’s morning run through the sprinklers with the dog – IN said uniform – he claimed he was HOT), backpacks on tired little shoulders, actually looking out for each other. I thought to myself, “I bet they even ate their grapes.”
This back-to-school business is a piece of cake. I win. Whatever the Mom Award is for making it through the first couple of days of school with your kids and your sanity intact….. that award is mine.
“Mommy?” sweet hands reach for mine . Those big blue eyes have a serious question.
“Yes, Buddy…..”, I waited.
“Am I a girl?” I can tell he’s worried.
“No, Coop… you are, most definitely, a boy. Why?”
“Because a boy today said, ‘Are you a girl?’ to me and then pointed to the boy next to him and said, ‘You see Scott**, he’s not a girl…he’s a boy because he has a haircut like mine.”
Coop has the most amazing hair ever. Ever. Thick. Blond. Wavy curl. He has good hair, but it is longer than the other boys in his class. We like it that way. More importantly, HE likes it that way.
I sat myself down right there on the floor in the entry way. You know that whole ‘piece-of-cake’ thing? Who was I kidding? I mentally, and gracefully decline said Mom Award. I don’t know if I will ever be any good at this parenting thing. Seeing your kids sad….or wounded… it doesn’t get easier. And I know I won’t always have the answers. This is just the beginning.
I never took my eyes from his, “Buddy…. you know you are a boy. Sometimes people say things that aren’t nice. That’s ok. We know that words can hurt. You tell him you ARE a boy and walk away. ”
My sweet girl chimed in, brushing his blond hair from his forehead, “Buddy, its ok…. I’ll protect you.”
And with that?
I suddenly felt like I was winning again.
**name changed so as not to identify anyone in the class
It is Delaney’s smile and her ever growing vocabulary. She loves to snuggle and can’t ever stop saying, “Mommy, Look!” I love that she still wants to hold my hand, and never gets up from a nap without giving me a hug. She isn’t the best eater, but when she says, “Mommy, thanks for making a great dinner.”, I absolutely melt. I love that whenever I sing-song, “Delaney is…..” , she sing-songs right back, “A fuzzy bunny!” Right now she is a bit under the weather. Her croupy cough makes her seem so vulnerable. It is terrible, I know, but I love it when she is vulnerable – when she needs me. I adore saying prayers with her at the end of the day. She always says, “And thank you for a beeee-you-ti-ful day.” Every day, I can see more of her “baby” leaving, and more of the little girl she is rapidly becoming. She sings constantly – half of the time she makes it up – the other half, she is still singing Christmas carols, punctuated by the odd Barbie Diamond Castle ballad. She works so hard to teach her little brother and loves to learn. She is definitely my little angel.
And her little brother, well, he is 2 and very good at it. But today, I focused only on the fantastic and amazing in him. His smile gets me every single time. He could tell me he just wrote a cuss word on the wall with a Sharpie and I would still have to stifle a smile when he turns that little face on me. I can’t get enough of his hugs. When I put him down for a nap, when I walk out the front door, when I leave him in the day care at the gym, he follows me saying, “You need give me ‘nother hug and kish.” I can’t resist. I love that the first thing he does when he sees me after nap is to wrap his chubby little arms around my neck and smile. Inevitably he then says, “Mommy, I missed you while I was sleeping.” (cue tears) Every night when he goes to bed, we exchange our verbal good night, “I love you, my buddy.” and “I love you my mommy.” I smile from the inside out when I hold his hand and when he asks me to skip with him instead of walk. He always says, “Mommy, will you be my baby?” when he wants me to hold him so he can drink his milk. He always has a ball in his hand: a basketball, a baseball, a football. And he wants nothing more in life than for me or Daddy to play with him. Such a sweet little buddy.
