It was the chocolate milk mustache that did it. Actually, it was more of a chocolate milk ring since it was a full circle around his perfectly shaped rose lips. It had been there since late afternoon and I thought about wiping it about one hundred and twenty-seven times but I didn't. It made me smile each time because he had no idea that it was there and even if he did, he really wouldn't care.
It was cold in the basement and he had no socks on. The ongoing battle of keeping his socks on in the winter continues. I say nothing. I load my laundry basket full and smile at him as I pass to go upstairs. He catches my eye and with a full heart and wide eyes asks, "Mama, do you want to play trains with me?" He didn't know I was on a roll. Laundry almost done. Christmas ornaments are ready to be put in bins. Still had dinner to think about though. He waits for my reply. White laundry basked in hand, I have a silent conversation with myself. I leave the unfolded mess at the bottom of the stairs and say, "Yes, I do".
I sit down to retrieve my assigned train. I am usely Rosie because she is a girl and purple. Two things that he knows that I like. He is overly excited that I am here and it shows. As he rushes around his train table to begin his plan that he is clearly assembling in his beautiful head, he bumps into my back. He stops and looks at me
and sincerely says, "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to bump you". He then leans
over, stumbles, steps on my foot and proceeds to kiss my back. There is no
recognition that he has stepped on my foot with his little paws. I smile to
myself. He is three going on four and in this moment, I know that I have done
something right. I kiss him, tell him that it is nothing and that we need to
make up a fun story. He is gleaming and now talking at a rapid rate. His
excitement brings tears to my eyes. I don't want him to think that I am at all
sad. In this moment, I am so in love. I feel lucky and cannot prevent the "happy
tears" from surfacing. I collect myself. I must. There is a fire on Misty Island and Rosie is in need.
We create a story with a dynamic plot that twists and turns. Instead of becoming frustrated when he can't find the one the train he wants (out of the four thousand that he has), he improvises. Suddenly, his play helicopter becomes a sled and the tower with the funny looking face that he doesn't know the name of becomes "Jack". I ask him why he chose that name. He confidently proclaims that he likes that name and that is why he calls him Jack. I tell him that I think that is a great name:
Jack it is.
I notice how big he has gotten. His cheeks are full and my goodness, his feet have grown. I kiss his little toes when he passes. I especially love the second one that lifts up ever so slightly. It looks like mine. His nails have been trimmed by me and I inspect my work. He barely notices and continues on his mission. We put out fires. I make the fire alarm sound quite accurately, if I don't mind saying so myself. He 'choo choo's' up and down the tracks. Helicopters extinguish the flames and in unison we "whooooshhh" when the imaginary water falls from the sky. It is the most important and meaningful thing that I've done all day.
After the fire is put out and the coast is clear for all trains to continue on their 'specials', I tell him that I must take a break and continue with some other things that I must get done. He begs with his soft brown eyes for a "just a couple more minutes". I assure him that if I work hard to finish some of my snow day agenda, that we can play for a little more before bed. He unconvincingly gazes at me, but maturely accepts my offer. I ask my sweet conductor if it would be okay if we invited his sister this time.
He pauses and thinks. With bare chubby toes still showing and chocolate milk ring still in perfect place he asks, "Which train do you think she'll want to be?"
It was cold in the basement and he had no socks on. The ongoing battle of keeping his socks on in the winter continues. I say nothing. I load my laundry basket full and smile at him as I pass to go upstairs. He catches my eye and with a full heart and wide eyes asks, "Mama, do you want to play trains with me?" He didn't know I was on a roll. Laundry almost done. Christmas ornaments are ready to be put in bins. Still had dinner to think about though. He waits for my reply. White laundry basked in hand, I have a silent conversation with myself. I leave the unfolded mess at the bottom of the stairs and say, "Yes, I do".
I sit down to retrieve my assigned train. I am usely Rosie because she is a girl and purple. Two things that he knows that I like. He is overly excited that I am here and it shows. As he rushes around his train table to begin his plan that he is clearly assembling in his beautiful head, he bumps into my back. He stops and looks at me
and sincerely says, "I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to bump you". He then leans
over, stumbles, steps on my foot and proceeds to kiss my back. There is no
recognition that he has stepped on my foot with his little paws. I smile to
myself. He is three going on four and in this moment, I know that I have done
something right. I kiss him, tell him that it is nothing and that we need to
make up a fun story. He is gleaming and now talking at a rapid rate. His
excitement brings tears to my eyes. I don't want him to think that I am at all
sad. In this moment, I am so in love. I feel lucky and cannot prevent the "happy
tears" from surfacing. I collect myself. I must. There is a fire on Misty Island and Rosie is in need.
We create a story with a dynamic plot that twists and turns. Instead of becoming frustrated when he can't find the one the train he wants (out of the four thousand that he has), he improvises. Suddenly, his play helicopter becomes a sled and the tower with the funny looking face that he doesn't know the name of becomes "Jack". I ask him why he chose that name. He confidently proclaims that he likes that name and that is why he calls him Jack. I tell him that I think that is a great name:
Jack it is.
I notice how big he has gotten. His cheeks are full and my goodness, his feet have grown. I kiss his little toes when he passes. I especially love the second one that lifts up ever so slightly. It looks like mine. His nails have been trimmed by me and I inspect my work. He barely notices and continues on his mission. We put out fires. I make the fire alarm sound quite accurately, if I don't mind saying so myself. He 'choo choo's' up and down the tracks. Helicopters extinguish the flames and in unison we "whooooshhh" when the imaginary water falls from the sky. It is the most important and meaningful thing that I've done all day.
After the fire is put out and the coast is clear for all trains to continue on their 'specials', I tell him that I must take a break and continue with some other things that I must get done. He begs with his soft brown eyes for a "just a couple more minutes". I assure him that if I work hard to finish some of my snow day agenda, that we can play for a little more before bed. He unconvincingly gazes at me, but maturely accepts my offer. I ask my sweet conductor if it would be okay if we invited his sister this time.
He pauses and thinks. With bare chubby toes still showing and chocolate milk ring still in perfect place he asks, "Which train do you think she'll want to be?"