I started to write that I’m tired, and whine about all the reasons why. But we have been talking with Brendan about how whining is not the best way to communicate – and really, the thing I most want to communicate is this:
That isn’t exactly where we started our weekend, but it was one of my favorite moments.
We had rain this weekend – finally. There was a lot of talk of drought and we really needed it. Plus, I love the rain, and so does my son – so we went out and did some puddle jumping.
He decided recently that he really likes umbrellas. He didn’t have his own, but he thought this red one that belonged to Mama was pretty cool.
So the next morning we went out to get the boys haircuts. Brendan once again sat like a big boy – in fact, he walked in, picked out a race car magazine, and climbed into his booster seat to look at all the cars with Mommy while Daddy got his hair cut a few chairs away. He did a great job, reminded us after that he would like his lollipop, and we still had time before nap to stop by one of our favorite toy stores. They had a whole assortment of umbrellas, and we told him he could pick any one he wanted – there were rocket ships and cars and trucks and motorcycles – but there wasn’t much question because from the moment he walked in, he knew the one he wanted.
I’m not sure there is anything cuter than a little boy wearing rain boots and carrying an umbrella.
He also helped Mommy decorate our traditional Valentine’s cookies. I’m always reminded that the year he was born, I used these cookies to test out the two names that were our front runners. In my heart, and even in my dreams, I knew he was Brendan – I just hadn’t convinced my brain yet. This was the first year Brendan helped, and he definitely had a favorite part:
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Today he handed out personalized cookies to all of his teachers with a great big smile on his face and a hug for each of them. I love watching him in action. Brendan has become more predictable in his napping, and I can usually time my visits to be there just as he is waking up. I can’t resist the cuddle time, and frankly, will pretty much clear my schedule for it. Recently he has started taking his shoes and socks off when he naps. I don’t know if that is actually sanctioned, but I wouldn’t want to nap with my shoes on either. And besides, how could anyone resist these feet?
After he woke up, it was Jamaroo time (a special once a week singing and dancing program). Most of the time he wants me to be there, but not to sing or move around (he does, however, always make sure that Mommy gets one of whatever the teacher is passing out – including the stamp on my hand at the end). Today, however, he asked me to stand up and be a dinosaur with the other kids. He sat down, so I started to sit down too but he told me to keep going. When the song was over he said to me, “Mama – you did a great job!”.
He also said good a special good morning to the puppy this weekend, and it was quiet enough in the early morning hours that we got to hear him whispering to Chelsea about the birdies in the trees:
Brendan is completely two-and-a-half. Maybe I should have capitalized that, because it is full of BIG things. It is the best of times, it is the… slightly less than best of times. He is figuring things out, and sometimes that takes experimentation that can be a bit tiring. Like this morning for instance… and I’ll be honest, in the moment it can feel a bit frustrating. But not a kind of frustration that I’ve ever felt before – it’s the frustration of wanting to understand what is going on in his little mind, wanting him to understand why I’m asking him to do something differently – feeling responsible for his happiness in both the short term and the long term – and for teaching him the way to be a big boy. And most of all, it’s the love that makes it different. I see Mom’s at the Olympics cheering their little hearts out, probably embarrassing the heck our of their athlete, and I so totally get it. I would be bursting with pride if my son were there – even if he was the one emptying the trash cans at the Olympics – or the one driving the taxi cab to and from the airport. It doesn’t matter what he does, it’s who he is. There is a saying I have always loved, “To the world, you may be one person – but to one person, you may be the world.” And I always got it, but now I FEEL it. Brendan will always be the sun, the moon and the shining star of my world. Wherever he goes, and whatever he does, he will always have at least one person who is on his side, beaming with pride over anything and everything he accomplishes – and there with a listening ear and hugs and infinite unconditional love when things don’t go quite according to his plans. And that’s what happened this morning. After the tantrum storm finally blew over, and all the lessons his father and I tried to teach were either heard or forgotten, he came to me with a smile and a story. Probably about a race car. I knelt down on the floor and took his shoulders in my hands and looking him in the eye, reminded him that I loved him so very much – and that it was always true, and always would be true – even in the times when he didn’t make the best choices. I asked him if he knew how much I loved him – if he could feel it. He heard me. He looked me solidly and knowingly in my eyes and put a warm little hand on each side of my face. And he nodded right before I scooped him closer and hugged him tight.
It’s late. And the moon is coming through the tiny little window above my computer screen. It reminds me of the night we got to take “The Moon Bag” home from school and Brendan got to draw a picture of the moon on black paper while I wrote down his observations. We got to look at books with astronauts and rocket ships and other exciting things. And it’s reminding me that I better get to bed, because there is a chance that tomorrow morning I might make a mistake and forget to let Brendan choose his OWN water cup. So just in case, I’m gonna need some rest.