[Note: Not a writing blog, and probably an over-share, but that is me… naked as always]
That is the era in which I learned that no matter how badly you’d like to fall apart, SOMEBODY has to stay sane… so there I was, stuck… the sane one by default. I had some tangible help and lots of helpful advice, all of it saying to walk away. You may have learned enough about me by now to know that played no small part in my determining it had to work. Don’t get me wrong. I was insistent on boundaries, therapy, taking time, working through—I even worked an AlAnon program to help sort what was my stuff and what wasn’t... but NOBODY tells me what to do. I also think my refusal to accept failure played in, as did my husband accepting that being tossed out in the first place was a reasonable reaction on my part--probably the best thing I could have done for him—once he’d gotten far enough past it, anyway. Even one hot head in such a situation dooms it. I couldn’t have ‘worked it out’ by myself.
Natalie was planned… after a couple years of taking turns being ready for a baby, by chance we were ready at the same time, tried and succeeded—first time... Sam on the other hand… in spite of coming 3 ½ years later, was an accident. We wanted another EVENTUALLY, but I was only 5 months into a new job, we’d only been back together 9 months, he wasn’t working… it just wasn’t time yet… yet I am completely confident he was the child I was meant to have. I’m not a person of traditional faith, but I believe in SOMETHING, and there it is…
Sam was almost 4 weeks early (never mind he was 7 pounds 9 oz. and 22 inches long). He was jaundiced, and fussy, didn't eat well. He refused to sleep on his back—the adamant recommendation of the day. As he got a little older he hated being away from home, throwing screaming tantrums if we were gone too long (strangers actually used to offer me help and sympathy—he was THAT miserable).
In Preschool he finally got his bearings away from home. At four I realized how good he was with numbers—his grandparents were visiting and he asked the date. Then he asked that day’s date and calculated that meant four days… math with no prompting or training. After preschool we decided on Young 5s because he was so young for his cohort… by the end he was reading, so he went to first grade instead of kindergarten. The kid is smart.
The real winner though, is his humor… it is mine EXACTLY. From very young he was into word play. He is periodically sarcastic beyond his years. I just enjoy his company. The rest of my family grumbles that I play favorites, and I really try not to, but periodically I just have to remind them that it is easiest to like someone who likes YOU—to be nice to someone who has been being nice. (my other two family members grumble and complain far more often). He gets mad and complains far less, seeks out my company even when he doesn’t want something from me MORE, and is just easy to hang out with. I know that will get to be less as he ages, that his mom will no longer be the cool company, but I have savored it, and hope after his ‘cool years’ that he comes back to it.
So what does he like? Here are some of his favorites:
Books: Cirque de Freak series by Darren Shan
TV: Family Guy
Candy: currently, Almond Joy
Friend: John [the boy on the right up above]
He plays trombone, does basketball, baseball and tried cross country this year. He requested I buy him ‘scent’ when school was starting because he has definitely noticed girls (and heard girls like boys who smell good). He spends a lot of time playing computer or video games, but also climbing trees, riding bikes and generally running around.
And did I mention his feet? His age has finally reached his shoe size… Seriously… he wears a men’s 11. It’s clear how much taller he is than his friends [above], but he is nowhere near done if his feet are an indication… He is already a head taller than most of his peers, some of whom are more than a year older.