I ask him how class went today. I ask him what friends he talked to. I ask what he played with.
Class was good.
Mrs. Joyce was nice.
I talked to them guys.
I played with blocks.
I asked him about the rainbow he drew. I said It was pretty. I liked the colors he used.
As we talked about his class, I sipped my coffee & he climbed his way to the top of the play structure. Elle started to protest so I fed her in the Ergo.
Conrad, with his eye on me-paying little attention to the other dozen kids climbing and playing around him, as I am his favorite play friend, shouts,
"Sissy want boooooooob Mom? She hungry?"
He pauses to wait for my response.
"You need to feed her Mommy!"
He is so assertive. He is so protective already of his sister.
He never stops watching what I'm doing. He's always keeping an eye on me.
Yep, sissy is hungry.
I'm wearing a cardigan but the sun on my back is warming me up.
I take a deep breath and take another drink of my coffee.
In my head I tell myself to remember these moments, don't just live through them, LIVE them and take a mental picture of what these days mean to you. How precious they are.
I ask him again about his rainbow.
I ask him who made the clouds.
Who made those pretty colors.
Jesus did Mom.
Just when I start to doubt my job as a "stay at home mom" slash "work at home mom"
I get reminded that my work here in this sometimes tiny condo of ours is actually really incredible and has a great impact on this man sandwich of mine, aka, my THREE year old! What? Three? Already?
I know. It's sad isn't it. He's all growns up.
These days are fleeting and one day, I too will be sitting across from the lunch table at Panera Bread looking at my daughter in law with teary eyes, as I warn her that the day will come when i have to say goodbye to my baby birds- when they're all grown and in a whole different city and state, away at college, all too cool for me, listening to Childish Gambino and having hot girlfriends and getting really smart and skilled at unicycles and being too damn adorable for their own good..... (aka my freakishly intelligent brother in laws Cameron & Tate.)
I love you boys.
Can't someone just invent a pill to keep little boys from ever growing up?
This momma's heart wouldn't hurt so bad.
Oh. Em. Gee.
Someone hand me a tissue.....