The Note

There are two separate topics for blogs running around my head, but I can't help putting those off in favor of someone else's words tonight. They are just too rich and yummy to keep all to myself. My lovely Kiel thought of me when he found this tasty morsel. Oh, to re-live the days of giddy delight and anticipation of New Love's sweetness, with letter O's mysteriously shape-shifting into hearts, and Post Scripts detailing the most important message in the world. Young love. Infatuation. Heartsickness. Whatever you call it, and however embarrassing it might be to you now, it is a sweet thing to recall.

THE NOTE

Set-up: Yellow Steno note paper, uneven tear at the top, dated and timed (which cracked me up), recipient name in large passable cursive across the whole top line, the body electric, in neat print, signed in cursive with a heart after her name....all names will be omitted to protect the innocent, spelling is all hers, and my text will be parenthesized.

5/7/08
4:27 pm
SL

My love has grown for you
over the past 2 weeks. I'm
deeply dedicated to you now. I'm
going to love you until the
day I die, no matter what happens.
Now I realize that your much
more than a friend. We were
destined to be together from day 1, and we
both know that were soul mates [smiley face].
One day I {am going to} WILL marry you. [smiley face]
(am going to is crossed out and replaced with a very dark "will")

I LOVE YOU !
P.S.
That day in the practice room,
when we first kissed...I knew
we were going to be together
for a very long time [heart]

-B [heart]

We should all write one of these to our favorite honey and remind them that age, wrinkles, babies, and time, cannot extinguish that ardent desire we once had. C'mon, you know you've still got it in you.

Thank You

Been going through some personal stuff lately. Mostly, I've been unsatisfied with the state of my life as far as my physical and emotional health. I've been lazy about fixing either and have relied on a few friends to help me through this time. I owe a big thank you to everyone that has listened to me crab about not being in shape and encouraged me to find a way to make it happen, and a bigger thank you to those who have patiently listened to the boring monologues about my life without slapping me silly. Sometimes it's the forest for the trees, right?

I am happy to say that my new workout routine has me feeling more fit, energized, and confident. Bring on the sunshine and lets get out and play!

The spiritual/emotional issues at hand will take some fine tuning, and I feel ready for the challenge. We are all a work in progress and work is the operative word most of the time. It is both scary and exciting to move out of a particular comfort zone and change behaviors that have become all too familiar. Two fabulous friends have told me that "you can't change the way other people are, you can only change yourself" (paraphrased) and it's taken me almost 35 years to really understand that. This month brings another year to my life; I pray it is one that shows some much needed growth in the areas of love, grace, and respect-for myself, and those that I hope to remain close to for life. You, my friends and family, are precious beyond words. Without you, there would be no Chelsea Dawn, so thank you a hundred times over for your faithful presence and gentle guidance in my life.

Lucas Reilly

Lucas is walking! He's been hovering in the almost walking zone for a few weeks, but really started to walk for locomotion, not just practice, about 5 days ago. This means that my prediction that he'd be walking at 10 months was true. (Yeah for Mom!) He's now eleven months and has started to pick up the pace a bit already. He does his best barefoot of course, his little toes gripping the floor as he moves along, but even in his new sporty Vans he's getting around. He protested their existence at first, but he's already learned that once mom has her mind made up there is little use in complaining.

It's a big thing this walking business. I'm loving it, he's loving it and David is running for cover when he needs too. We've taught David to "go high" when he wants some space from the ever attentive and affectionate Baby Monster. So David keeps company with his dinosaurs and new V-tech computer that Bart gave him in the window seat quite often. It's better than hitting Lucas or knocking him over or hearing them whine at each other. The window seat is David's place, so when Lucas gets to visit, he is just ecstatic.

Speaking of ecstasy, Lucas has three things he is in love with right now. The broom, the swiffer mop, and the dishwasher. I had to put the broom in another closet because he was licking it way too much for my comfort. Ever since he could crawl he has loved the broom. He did and does chase me around when I sweep trying to catch it or disrupt the pile of dirt it creates. I used to play defense with my leg to keep him at bay; now I'm just fast. The swiffer mop is lighter and cleaner (as I remove the disposable dust thing) and it's a close second to the broom. If the pantry door opens he is there rooting around for it. He wields it like a knight's lance or javelin depending on his mood. Now that he can stand, he yells with utter delight, handle in hand, one foot off the floor, ready for action. Then there is the dishwasher. Ohhhh the delight of the dishwasher. At first, it was the soap dispenser...Hey this opens and closes. Then came the bottom rack...Hey, I can move this in and out and pull things out of here. Then the ultimate discovery: If no one is looking, I can spread eagle face down on the door and lick that cool, cool plastic. Ohhh, it's just heavenly.

He's still in the mouth-as-primary-sensory-unit stage, so it's only natural that the dishwasher door, broom and swiffer should be licked. What else is it there for? When removed from these beloved items he protests like you've just chastised him for some wrongdoing. It cracks me up, these utilitarian love affairs. I can only hope that his infatuation will stick around through his teenage years, when he can put them to use as intended, and wonder what will come next.

four years in the making

The boy turns four on Wednesday. Four years in the making and he's turning out better than I could have imagined. Sometimes it seems like I remember every second of the last four years and others, well, find me projecting a year ahead, to kindergarten, and the incredible loss I will feel. He'll stop being my superkid sidekick and start moving in the world as his own independent person. It's a belly-tumbling feeling I have about this. I grow nervous for him, his safety, and his tender heart while being acutely aware that he must learn to fly on his own.

We take small steps already. Lately, when David goes to gym class, I wait a few minutes, then take the baby and go get coffee. I've been leaving more often, knowing that it's me that needs to get comfortable with this separation. Last week, he got scared and cried at the make-believe bear that jumped out from behind the mats. I found this out afterward from the teacher that shelters him in her own sweet way. I felt guilty that I wasn't there to calm his beating heart and grateful that someone else could. I know that there will be more heartstopping moments in his life that are bigger and more significant than make-believe bears. I'll count myself fortunate to hear of them via a second-hand account, and I know that some will go unmentioned, un-named.

It's a daunting thought, this nagging question: have I done enough to prepare him for the world outside my reach? Have I done enough? At night I pray with him. I thank God for the gift of him, for his tender heart, for his kind spirit, his strong mind and body. I pray these things out loud so David knows that this is how I see him and what I hope for his future. I love him for his sensitivity and still, I try to shore it up, to encourage toughness as a virtue. I so don't want him to be the one that gets picked on. It's a fine line to walk as a parent...when to push, when to hold, when to let him find his own way.

I held him this morning on the sofa. As we talked about the coming year, I could already feel the creeping pangs of loss for his little boy smile; a smile that remains innocent of the cruelty and emotional perils that childhood can bring. Already, I grieve his eminent understanding that the world is not always good and kind. He's my son, my lovely and adored son and he begins to move beyond me. Four years old. Four years of teaching and learning and growing and loving for both of us. They are not wanton or lean years. They have been full and well lived, and I will tuck their sweet memory inside my heart as gentle reminders for all the changes that will surely come.