Tonight is Max’s 8th birthday party. It’s a slumber party with three of his pals with a Pokémon theme. I took two Tylenol as a pre-emptive strike. I hate Japanese Anomie of any kind. I remember when Pokémon first came out and it was annoying then. It also amazes me that my spell-check recognizes that Pokémon is spelled wrong until it has a little accent over the 'e'. It freakin’ corrected me. That just seems so wrong in so many ways I would need a brightly colored chart to explain it.
But hey, Max and his friends are happy and I am able to do laundry and write a blog. So, I’m not complaining. Of course it’s only 8pm and it is a sleepover so this is going to be a really, really, long night. They have been here for two hours and they have had pizza and birthday cupcakes, played on the swings and now are on to the video game portion of the evening. There will be a Lego building contest next and then a Pokémon marathon. I just heard the phrase “whoever smelt it dealt it” so you know they are enjoying themselves. They are all really nice kids and they haven’t annoyed me once. In fact, I don’t have to entertain them and frankly, I don’t think they really want me here. Except to make cupcakes (double chocolate) and pick them up when they fall over. They are too old for boo-boo kisses so I don’t even have to deal with that.
It’s weird. Not the boo-boo kisses. Although I thought my magic-mommy-boo-boo-kisses would last a little longer. The whole growing up waaaaaay too fast thing, that is weird. Seriously, wasn’t it was just yesterday Max was obsessed with Thomas the Train and spent hours saying “Thomas is bwu!” And the day before that wasn’t he putting his toes in his mouth while I was changing his diaper and he was doing that silent baby laugh that makes you just smile when you think of it? And just last week I was rocking him in my arms looking down at a day old baby, marveling at what I had created. Hold on a sec, there is something in my eye. No, I was not tearing up at the thought of my baby growing up. Seriously. Oh shut up.
Dash is starting kindergarten next week. He has recently decided his is really seven years old and not five. He told me the other day that when he was born he was actually two years old. I told him that I was the one who was there and also the one that pushed him out into the world and really, I remember him being much younger than two years old when he was born. He argued with me for an hour.
He is trying desperately to fit in with the big eight year olds; just like I did when my older sister had her birthday sleepovers. I hated being the younger sister back than but now really enjoy reminding her that she is older. And will always be older than me. Much, much older than me. (Alright, to be fair she is only two years older but she used to throw balled up socks at my head while folding laundry so I will now keep reminding her that she is MUCH older than me.)
Anyway, so Dash is trying to pretend he is seven and the older kids want to know when his bedtime is. Poor little guy. He is sitting on the couch holding his stuffed Pikachu in one hand and his security blanket, named GeeGee, in the other. He keeps looking up at me with these big brown eyes. I keep blowing him kisses. He smiles and catches them.
They are all so cute, these little guys. Someday they are going to be men. That will scare the bajeezus out of any mommy. How do I make sure they make the right decisions and don’t screw up their lives? How do I make sure I make the right decisions and don’t screw up their lives? Crap.
Can’t they just stay this way? Ya know, shorter than me, still holding my hand and still asking for snuggles? Well, snuggles when they are not trying to be cool in front of their friends. Crap it is starting already.
But in the quiet solitude of our home, they still crawl onto my lap and lean against me and I smell their hair and sing to them. I wish upon stars with them, I wipe away tears from their eyes, I whisper secrets and give out a million kisses. And my magic-mommy-boo-boo-kisses will still be needed from time to time. I hope.
Hold on, there is something in my eyes again…
No comments:
Post a Comment