Sunday School Rebel

things orbiting around my brain

• Did you know we are now a TWO computer family? Beaux has been drooling over netbooks for months now and last week he bought this as an early birthday present. He deserves a great present; he's such a great dad and husband and works his booty off for our little family. (Not to mention, he'll be the big 3-0.) I can't tell you how much he loves his 'precious' and has spent a lot of time geeking out over it. And we are both thrilled that now we don't have to share one computer - that was causing weird underlying stress between us, like siblings fighting over a toy. We both love having the Internet at our fingertips WHEN we want it and sharing is just no fun. Now we can both do whatever we want (me, play Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook until my eyes cross, Beaux, install crap on his very! own! computer!) 
• For the record, I am absolutely allowed to use the sweet tiny Netbook, but I like the desktop just fine. If I sit on the couch with Thomas for any length of time, he thinks it's Milk Bar time, and so I have to keep mynot-very-far-away distance, if you know what I mean.  I like to break it out at night when I have the couch all to myself and no boys around. 
• Someone is working on those endlessly-not-emerging two year molars, and they are bad *insertcursewordhere* - poor guy. Most of the time he seems okay, but I know his mouth is hurting and I feel bad for him.  
• I now possess a copy of the 30 Day Shred, and I made it through Day One. (Yesterday, Thomas never took a nap; so I didn't get to do it. I promise you I wasn't actively avoiding it; yet I also didn't want to work out after he went to bed. I've got to get better about that.) It really wasn't as hard as I remembered; but it is hard. I love that it's got simple moves so that you don't spend the whole time trying to figure out how to DO what they're doing on the screen. Weirdly, the arm exercises were the easiest; probably because I carry around a 28 pound weight many times a day. This kid has GOT to start using his legs more!  
• I am so behind posting about my book list; I'm thinking of doing several posts in a row on it. Would you mind so much book talk? I have so much to say!
•  Speaking of the Kid, Beaux and I have agreed to register him for a two-morning-a-week Mother's Morning Out program. Two! mornings! a! week! He really needs this; we think, to spend a few hours away from Mama. I have several friends who send their kids to this program and it's really just organized playtime, nothing too structured. Thomas adores other kids SO MUCH and I am hoping that he'll realize that it's FUN and not A LIFE SENTENCE OF DOOM not have Mama around. 
• I seriously cannot fathom having six hours a week all to myself.  What am I going to do with myself? I have very rarely even been in our apartment without Thomas here, too. The possibilities are endless. Writing, maybe! Exercising! Cleaning the whole house without interruption (not my first choice, obviously)! Going out to breakfast with my husband! Maybe I'll even do something really crazy and responsible, like, go to the doctor! (Blech.)

request for faith

all I ask 

is room for my questions

I line them up 

on the pew

like children in their Sunday best

shined patent leather shoes

and ties all askew

they cling to my skirt

and follow me to the bathroom

one little girl sits at my table

blowing bubbles in her milk

with her wayward hair

and her dirty face

and I remember

how she crept from her tent

one starry night

feeling the pull of God

and praying

asking God to come down

how the door to the unpredictable

Divine was thrown open

and it won't be shut. 

(my first poem in over a year.) 

months 20 & 21

Dear Thomas, 

Can I just say it? You are rotten. But you are MY kind of rotten. 

Actually, you are a trooper of a kid, to be so flexible with our crazy schedule in the past two months.We have hit the road for random family visits, a trip to the Memphis Zoo which involved a hotel stay, a family reunion, a Thai dinner with friends, and for what seemed like a playdate for you, while I got to play Bunco for the first time in a year. There's been a lot of road time, which makes Mama happy, to get out of the everyday routine, and you are usually a really good dude about riding in the car. I make sure I have a stack of toys and books to hand back to you, not to mention goldfish crackers or Pirate's Booty and usually french fries, too. French fries are my secret weapon to keeping you happy at crucial times, and while it may not be the healthiest solution, it is what it is. I am slowly losing my feelings of inadequacy about travelling with you alone, and I know that we can manage almost anything. Still, when I time things perfectly and you nap for those two hour drives, I feel blessed by God and all the saints in heaven. 

You are your own dude. You always have been, but I have relinquished my hope that you'll be this charming, dancing child who makes everyone fall in love with you. People do fall in love with you, but you keep them at a distance. You are charming and certainly all-dancing but you're particular about your audience. You break your Lovie's heart because you don't run straight into her arms, your PePaw doesn't get that you're a total introvert and need time to warm up to new situations. I understand that you don't see these people all the time, and am thinking of making you some sort of book with pictures of all the family members you routinely snub, so you can see their faces and make that connection that these are good people, after all. They still love you, and they are still planning to give you birthday presents, and I am trying to find a way to advocate for you to be who you are. You are so much of your father's son, like so many men in that family, and cannot be easily coaxed into anything that's not your own idea in the first place. 

The other morning, we were at our new favorite playground (so shady!) and I got the highest compliment a Southern mother could ask for: "He's all boy, isn't he?" It made me laugh, because I don't really care that you're a manly sort of boy, but you are full of energy and purpose, especially on a playground. That day you were wearing your (one) pair of camoflague pants, and I can't help but wonder if they gave you a boost in your jumping, so to speak. You gleefully knocked down the block towers at storytime, and Ms. June the Librarian said as we left, "He's a fireball today!" There also might have been some gleeful screaming involved, and pounding some tables like drums. For all the ways that you are slow to warm up to new situations, when you get comfortable, you are a bit of a holy terror. You are fearless when it comes to climbing, or slides, and I love that we now have a walking routine with our trusty friends that puts us at some sort of playground three days a week. You are steady enough that I can step back and not monitor every single step, even if sometimes I have intercede when you look ready to test your mortality off a high structure. 

You went to the doctor this month, for a very late 18-month wellness visit (hello, pretty shiny health insurance)! The funniest part about the visit is that you slowly moved behind me, downright hiding, as I talked to your pediatrician, who is kind and understanding and I love him so much, if only because when I told him we were still a breastfeeding team, he said, "I won't say anything until he's three." I like that in a doctor! You are revoltingly healthy, thank God, and currently weigh 28 pounds and are 32 inches tall. When it comes to food, I feel fleetingly guilty that I don't try to mix it up more when it comes to your diet. I have actively remind myself to give you vegetables, because I have to remind MYSELF to eat vegetables, for goodness' sake. I like veggies, but it's been a long road to figuring out what I like. Still, you are crazy for grapes, a grape fiend, you could say. We cannot exist without grapes. Usually I give you two kinds of fruit for breakfast, and call it good, but one day I decided to try to share a waffle with you and you gobbled it up. You are happiest with some kind of noodle, each and every day, and still love boiled eggs. I am determined not to make food a battle and just keep giving you what you like, while trying to be sneaky and giving you new stuff when I remember that oh yeah, maybe I should. 

Your talking skills are taking off. I had my list of words ready for the pediatrician - when I started worrying about your not-so-much talking skills, I began making a list and realized that you do have words, you just choose not to use them. (Hmmm. Reminds me of someone...that I made a lifelong commitment to...) Lately, you will actually call me Mama, and I hear you practicing words when you're off playing by yourself. You wake up and declare "Dah!" and "dog!" and "ball!" The other day you were kicking your feet at me and saying "kick! kick!"  Of course, this is toddlerese but I can hear the words in there. I was thrilled when you said BYE to your friend Logan. You notice the clock at the park and comment, "CLOCK!" Also rather new words: shoes, and eat, all very handy words. There was one point where you said 'eat' and used your 'more' sign together and I was inordinately excited. Now when we ask you something, you just might respond with a firm "NO." If you have to do anything at all you don't want to do, you protest with several NO NO NO's in a row. So all in all, I am feeling much better about your talking. I just have to remind myself not to compare you to those tricksey fast-talking girls and be patient. 

You dance more and more, and it is the BEST THING EVER. One day, in a fit of silliness, I danced with you all around the coffee table, and you have since taken it up as an almost daily routine. If we turn on music, you feel compelled to shake it, and I have the best time cheering you on. If you are particularly happy, you can't help it - dancing ensues. Dancing often includes spinning, too. You've begun to sing along to the TV, say, if American Idol was on - which is sweet and adorable but also endearingly annoying. Your two lapsed musicians-for-parents are really proud of this talent. Jumping is also still a high priority with you, and we still cheer as though you're competing in the Toddler Olympics. 

We've been having beautifully cool weather lately, and a few days ago I took you to the playground behind our apartment to burn off all that fireball energy of yours. At first, I directed you away from the mud puddles, and then I realized, why not? What are we doing that he has to be clean? I never care if you are messy, but it was so liberating to say, "Go for it, jump in!" And so you did, and were in pure kid paradish, splashing and stomping and getting completely filthy. 

I am trying to remember that this is what childhood is all about, and this is the childhood I want for you. I want to say yes more than I say no. I want to give you the freedom to stomp and have dirt under your nails and sand in your hair. I want to give you time to lay on your back and look at the clouds. And I want to give myself permission to cloud gaze, dance around the coffee table, and count the bugs alongside you. 

I love you, my ever growing boy, 

Mama

quotes for your monday morning

Stolen from Christina: Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets looking for you. ~ Hafiz

We write stories not because we have answers, but because we have questions. ~ Katherine Paterson

blooms

Mother's Day goodness...

Gorgeous, decadent pink hydrangeas from my sweet boys. 

Fun with the sweetest Mama and Lovie in the universe. (And pretty! Did I mention pretty?) 

"Look, Mom, no hands!" (The inevitable caption!) 

Not pictured: the delicious lunch Beaux grilled, plain and simple hamburgers and hot dogs, but better than good. Potato salad and baked beans, contributions from my mom and grandma. Dessert was a blueberry pineapple crunch thing that is so amazing that you want to stick your face in the dish, it was that yummy. Our apartment was stuffed full of family, my parents and grandparents, and later, my brother and his fiance made a surprise visit. There was plenty of good visitin' and maybe the best gift of all is my clean and tidy house, which is amazingly simple to keep that way when you get everything in its place. 

And to the little boy who made me a mother - the person who clings to my legs and can't sleep without me, who never fails to make me laugh on a daily basis, the boy who inspires me to dance around the living room even though I cannot dance in any sort of socially-appreciated way, my red-star dream boy, my walking, spinning, jibber-jabbering poem - thank you. Thank you for helping me be who I always dreamed of being. I'm so lucky to be your mama. 

more love than my heart can hold

I don't know about you, but I am fed up with my own half-assed posting going on around here. No more dithering around! I have about 15 minutes before I have to clean house, attend a burial (crossing my fingers that I can find the cemetery) and pick up a few more Mother's Day gifts. Oh, and shower. My family is coming to MY house for Mother's Day tomorrow, and so we're on Full Orange Alert here, we must get to scrubbing and organizing and sifting through stacks of mysterious papers that have accumlated on the dining room table. 

Thomas and I went on another short jaunt, this time to Hattiesburg, all because someone very special was coming to town! Lindsey and I had never met in person, we got to know each other after she moved away from ye olde Burge, which the funny thing about the Internet. I think it always leads you home, one way or the other. She (and family) were in town for the college graduation of her daughter, who very sweetly agreed to share her family-time with a stranger and one very wiggly toddler. 

But not yet - first I will recount how it was all arranged that Thomas and I stay with my beloved Other Parents for the night. I still jump at any opportunity to stay at their house, because any house of theirs is cozy with love and also pretty good snacks. My Other Mother and I talk as fast as we can, cramming in all the information we can share on the news and family goings-on, and my Other Father sits kindly in his chair, watching Thomas demolish the toy basket. Right as I was walking out the door, my phone rings, and it's Eddie's Better Half, who says that my Other Father's mother is on her deathbed, quite suddenly, and why don't I come stay with them, instead? So once again, we descend upon their guest room, which I call our own personal guest suite. Thomas was in heaven, with two little girls doting on him. They are some of the sweetest little girls I've ever met, and look like walking American Girl dolls in their school uniforms. 

On the way down, I call Carrie, who tells me she's coming to Mississippi, too, because it is obviously the place to be. This woman boggles me, travelling with a two week old infant. I could barely find clean underwear for myself when Thomas was two weeks old, much less attempt a road trip. We realize that it's been nearly a year since we saw each other face-to-face, and I never did see her pregnant, but all that matters is that I will soon be able to hold baby Amelia, weeks before I thought I would! 

Supper with Lindsey & family was so lovely, at a yummy Thai restaurant that I love. I was incredibly nervous as to how Thomas would do, since we ate at a time he is usually gearing down for bed. (Her daughter had a late exam, bless her heart, the DAY before her graduation.) I truly did want to leave him with a babysitter, but I knew Lindsey wanted to meet his Rotteness in person, and she threatned to hurt me if I didn't bring him along. Everyone was so patient and kind, and when Thomas wouldn't be still anymore, determined to walk around the restaurant, a sweet, totally not-busy waiter trailed him around the restaurant. I shudder that I was *that person* with an uncontrolled child meandering around the place, but it was better than screaming, right? (And he wasn't running, just exploring quietly. What's that sound you hear? It's my ideals, crashing down like the walls of Jericho.) Lindsey is adorable and kind, just as I knew she would be, and let me try her curry. It's so fun to connect the dots and realize how many degrees removed from each other we are, and to meet her family, who were sweet to share her during this special time. It's so lovely to find such a kindred spirit, springing up from the depths of the Internet. 

Yes, I am incapable of taking a good picture, which is why you very rarely see me on my own blog, thankyouverymuch. 

Friday morning, I let Thomas get in his daily dose of Backyardigans, while poor Eddie tried to write his sermon with a toddler zooming around with a toddler-sized broom. I packed everything up and started dropping off Mother's Day cards and gifts for Beaux's side of the family. We surprised Pop at his pharmacy and hung out for a little while, and then got to spend some one-on-one time with Beaux's grandma. I love making surprise visits. Then I turned my car towards the Interstate, and beat Carrie to her own parents' house, because that's how I roll. Actually, I missed my first exit, and didn't want to turn around since there was just one lane going the other way, otherwise I'd still be sitting on I-59, no doubt. 

While we waited for the guests of honor to arrive, Thomas got to know Seven The Cat, who is very old and yet quite friendly.  Carrie's dad was in the background, and Thomas rewarded him with his best smirky smile at one point. Carrie's daddy is so quiet and kind, and Thomas was all, finally someone who lets me do my own thing and doesn't insist on a hug or kiss! I like you very much, person who isn't related to me! 

And then a car full of princesses arrived, big and small: the whole kingdom rejoiced. 

I managed to hold sweet baby Amelia for a good five minutes. Thomas watched from afar and made his "baby" sign, which is weirdly franctic and makes one think HE thinks babies should be shaken very vigorously from side-to-side. It was soul-good to see my one of my oldest, dearest friends, who is a queen among women, to be sure. I could have stayed all day, marinating in the family that kept spilling through the door, who I love after all these years of hearing stories about their antics, and the many times they've welcomed me at their tables and gatherings. Bella was infinitely sweet and patient with Thomas, who tried to sit in a baby doll stroller. He's down with tea parties, though. He wasn't the only one who didn't want to leave a place bursting with fun, especially with a tractor in the front yard. 

Another wonderful trip to see people I love, which completely exhausts me, but in the best way possible. Writing this, I realize that I got to see far more people than I planned, which was a unexpected, tricksey sort of blessing. I've taken way longer than 15 minutes to pound this out - I'm so rusty from all my lackadasical posting. Now, I must get to scrubbing...