It’s time for me to finally admit it. This boy? 

The one with the impish grin, the mind that never stops and the insane ability to stay up until all hours of the night reading? The one who knows every button of mine to push, who blames himself for the oddest things, who wants everyone to be happy all the time and always needs to be busy?

Yeah, he’s just like me.

I’m pretty sure that the only thing he got from his dad (besides that male trait of being able to remember the oddest facts ever) is the whole “i’m-bored-but-i-don’t-know-what-i-want-to-do” thing.

I can foresee a future of fights with him, of heart to hearts, of knowing exactly how he feels even though he’ll never believe me, because I’ve been there.  He is sweet and sensitive and hilarious and oh so wicked smaht.

And even though I wish he wouldn’t be so much like me sometimes, I’m thankful every second that he’s mine.

“MAMA!!”  Comes the cry from upstairs. I had just settled my butt back on the couch from tucking them both in; Mike was already asleep, exhausted from being up too late last night.

I waited, wanting to make sure it was a real cry, not just a ‘I can’t reach my water’ whine.  It was.  I walked in with purpose; not a night goes by during which both boys don’t cry out for us multiple times and it has gotten very old.

“This better be good, mister” I said sternly as I walked in.  And it was, of course.

“I can’t stop thinking about my school and our house catching on fire!” he said, tears glistening. I immediately sunk to the floor next to his bed.  A few minutes later, we determined that the watching of the smokejumpers video on the National Geographic site was to blame.  While we do have some trees around our house and around his school, we are no where near to being in a forest. Or near a forest.  He thought that just because the trees were near, we lived in a forest that would catch on fire. Sigh.

From there we moved on to him missing Fooby. Which he always mentions when he’s exhausted.  It hurts a lot less now when he says it because I expect it, but 2 years later, I still miss my dog, too.  So we spent a good 10 minutes on Fooby, and my mom’s old dog, Bosley, and the neighbor’s dog, Callie all living in doggie heaven together, sleeping in a big pile on their clouds, playing all day.  It was going well, and then? He broke my heart.

“Mom? Can we call up there?” For a moment I was confused, then it hit me. He wanted to call Heaven to make sure that our dog was ok. OOF.  I tried to explain that we couldn’t call, but that we could talk to the people and pets in heaven anytime we wanted to. I told him how I talk to my grandma, and how my mom talks to her mom and dad all the time.  I told him that I’m positive that when Daisy stands in the yard barking at absolutely nothing that she is talking to Fooby and letting him know how we’re doing. We chatted a few more minutes about that, then he got me again.

“Mom, how do the dogs get to heaven?” OH MY HELL. Honestly, I wasn’t sure it was the time to get into the whole body vs. soul thing, so I kept it as simple as I could, telling him how we took away Riley’s pain to make him comfortable. He seemed satisfied, but I’m sure this won’t be the end.

We talked for a few more minutes about random things, trying to get his mind off of sad and scary things so he could fall asleep.  Among our topics: those paddles with the ball attached with elastic, the difference between bunnies and rabbits, counting pennies, and his inability to get comfortable plus my inability to physically make him be comfortable. Finally, he settled in to sleep, Mr. Ploppy on his head, Elly in his arms, and giant bear next to him.

It’s in these moments, my head resting on his bed, looking into his deep brown eyes, listening to him seeking answers and weaving stories, that my heart is full with amazement.

And then I go out of his room and I hear “MOM!!” again.

Dammit. Go to sleep kid!!!

hehe

For the past few weeks, my son’s school has been collecting Pennies for Patients – a fundraising program for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (read more here).  So, being the awesome mom I am, I dug up all of the change I could find – in my office, the junk drawer, various other spots around the house – and Matt, Preston and I sorted through it all.  We’ve been setting our change aside since the beginning of the year in anticipation of our summer trip to the Lego Store in Chicago, so we already had a lot saved up.

This morning, Matt handed off a storage size ziploc bag full to the brim of pennies – in hopes of curing cancer and earning a pizza party for his class. I am so proud of him.

The boys both started school today.

To say that I was surprised that Preston not only wanted to go today, as well as tomorrow (all day!) would be an understatement. Apparently, he felt left out and wants to be big now or something. (If I could only get him to stop pooing in his pants!)

I took them in, hung out with Preston for a little while, made sure Matt was settled and then headed to my car to call Mike to say

“My babies are in SCHOOL!!!”

And so it begins.

I went to work for a couple hours. Came home, wandered around the house and talked to the dog. Went back to school to pick them up (only a half day). It felt strange.

Tomorrow? Both in school ALL DAY. Thursday, Miss Molly here with Preston and Matt in school. I think I’d better find something to do tomorrow…being at work three days in one week? Unheard of!!