I not sad, I happy!

For one of my classes, we're required to write a weekly blog post about experiences we had in clinic during that week. Luckily for me, it gets me into a reflective mood and I actually post a thing or two on this blog as well. Yay for mandatory assignments that benefit my posterity as well!

The bad news is it always leaves me thinking of Grayson and the opportunity cost of me being in this program. I'm not having the best experiences so far this semester and I've noticed it's caused my emotions to run a bit high these last couple of weeks. Josh has been nothing short of amazing this semester so far, and I repaid him with a snippy attitude and short fuse when I got home from school today. Bad wife.

I kissed Grayson tonight as we put him to bed and told him I love him. He responded with, "I love you too." Then he interlaced his fingers in mine and told me, "I love your hand." So innocent, so adorable, so plain and simple, so delightful. I started tearing up. He saw my tears and put his arms around my neck, asking, "You so sad?" His bottom lip began to quiver a bit and I could see how sad he was at the thought of me being sad, and then I really did start to cry. I literally sobbed for about 20 seconds, wrapped in the arms of my tender two-year-old. He held me so tightly, so concerned about me. "Mommy, you crying?" "Why you so sad, Mom?" I honestly didn't want him to let go.

Somehow I was able to compose myself and as I pulled away from him, he worriedly looked into my eyes. I told him I wasn't sad anymore. He asked, "You happy?" because he's smart enough to know that either you're sad or you're happy, period.

So yes, Grayson. I'm happy. You make me happy. I'm happy because you are sweet and silly and brave to the point of stupidity. I'm happy because you're ridiculously smart and healthy. I'm happy because you're so good about eating your dinner and picking up your toys. You have the best facial expressions, and you said "See ya later, sucka" so perfectly to Daddy earlier tonight. I love the way you do monkey face and always know if the stoplight means stop or go. I'm happy because you know I'm Mommy, and Grandma is Grandma, and you correct me when I call her Mom on accident. I'm happy because Miss Amy tells me how nice you are to the other kids and how well you obey her. I'm happy because you're mine and you always will be.

Thanks bud, for making me so happy. And for reminding me why I am.

Get a grip

I'm two loads of laundry into the weekend and already feeling behind. It's after 9am Friday morning and there are two more to go (towels last week, sheets this week). I just finished the assignment that's due before noon, but Gray and I are still in our jammies, and the floor is screaming for attention. Scrubbed my shower and toilet last week but not my sink; vacuumed the house but didn't dust. Ran out of milk this morning and I haven't baked for ages. Seems I just can't get it all done anymore.

Maybe there just aren't enough hours in the week for my mom-life AND my school-life. Last weekend I spent about 10 hours studying for a test on Monday. I'll do that again this weekend. And the next. And the next after that. And the next after that one too. Between my classes, I will have at least one test every Monday for the next 12 weeks. Throw in a quiz every Tuesday and Thursday, the fact that I'm away from home (and my son) from 7am to 6pm every Monday through Thursday, and I'm borderline tears. Familial responsibilities consume me as soon as I walk in the door - dinner, dishes, playtime, jammies, brush teeth, storytime, prayers, good night. By 9pm (if I'm lucky enough that Grayson has stayed in his bed), I'm ready for bed myself - not up for pre-treating clothing stains, packing lunches and laying out clothes for the next day, or cracking open a textbook for an hour. I just want to fall into an uninterrupted slumber.

But I don't, because I can't. I want to be the best mom and I want to be the best student, so I do stay outside a bit longer than I should when Grayson wants to swing or play on the slide, and I occasionally leave the dishes in the sink until the next evening. And I often stay up until 10:30 or 11pm, studying for my classes the following day. No television, no pleasure reading. But I'm okay with that, because that's what I choose to do. And Josh has gotten so much better at being done working when it's time to be done. He helped make dinner last night, and he occasionally does the dishes. He makes the bed some mornings, helps Gray pick up his toys before bedtime, and picks him up from day care when I have to catch the later bus home. Josh will probably even let me head to the library tomorrow afternoon for 5-6 uninterrupted hours of studying, even though it means he can't work in the garage or basement. He really is the best husband and father.

Already this morning Grayson has asked me to draw him a butterfly, build a tower with him, and sing his frog to sleep. I love being here for him. I love the way his voice inflects up a bit when he says "Mom" right before he asks me for something. I know there's a time and season for every stage of life, and sometimes I'm bummed I chose to intertwine these two very different seasons into the same two years, but I know he knows I love him, and I'm pretty sure he knows he's my number one guy. He's going to help me try out a zucchini brownie recipe this afternoon, after we go grocery shopping together. He's good about helping me fold the laundry, and he still loves to vacuum, so I'm pretty confident I'll get the things done that I need to, even if it takes a bit longer to do them.

I just needed a minute to get a grip on my responsibilities, my priorities, and how to mesh them together. Breathe in, breathe out. One day at a time. Oh my, I just love that little boy so much. My little boy. No one told me I could manage to love him more every time I see him, but I swear it happens. I look at him and my heart nearly bursts. With joy, with pride, with love. He is so funny, and quirky, and boyish, and tender, and troublesome, and sweet all at once. He truly is the light of my life.

A Summer of Firsts

Now that summer is over, I figure I'd better do a quick recap of all the 'firsts' Gray had before I let any more time or memory slip away.

First donut - April 24, 2010

First buggy 'ride' - May 10, 2010

First time passing out in a swing - May 16, 2010

First time away from just Mommy overnight (sans Mexico) -

May 28-30, 2010

First ice cream cone - May 29, 2010First s'mores - May 31, 2010

First time building a tower without help - June 3, 2010First own meal at Lone Star Taqueria - June 21, 2010 First time passing out in Wal-Mart - June 23, 2010 First family reunion - June 25, 2010 First big fireworks show and carnival ride - July 3, 2010 First movie on the big screen - July 5, 2010 First time stuck climbing the pantry shelves - July 8, 2010 First family hike - July 30, 2010 First pinata! - August 22, 2010

As you can see, the kid's been busy this summer! Grayson also got his first bloody nose July 12 and learned how to open the outside doors this summer. It only took a few popsicles before he knew how to push his own Otter Pops up from the bottom, and he can eat cherries, plums, apricots, etc., and successfully spit out the pits. In the last month he's learned how to propel himself on a little scooter we got for him, and he denounced naps entirely. He also ripped out the bottom of one pair of shorts and I fixed them! This summer was a good one. Can't wait for the next!

Grayisms

Some of the latest funnies to come out of the kid's mouth:

• I not sad, I happy! (when he's in trouble, we tell him "This is so sad" and put him in his room. For the last couple months, as soon as he realizes where we're headed, he cries out, hoping it'll keep him out of his room.)
• You can't reach it. (smiling as he holds something in his hand over his head)
• You big trouble, Mom. (for some reason, Josh is never in big trouble - he's even told me to go to his room and then he's shut the door behind me)
• I not in big trouble. (when we catch him in the act)
• I working here! (when he wants to keep playing instead of whatever he needs to be doing)
• I need popsicle. (he never wants one, he needs it)
• Just stop a minute, k Dad? (when they're wrestling or chasing and Gray wants to get a leg up, he pulls this one on Josh)
• I going now. Bye! (announcing his departure from the room; he even waves as he goes)
• Mom, Mom, Mom, there the ABC's! (he gets so excited when he notices letters on signs and such)
• Um, green. (anytime we ask him what color something is)

Grayson's such a sweet little boy. He's extra big into kisses and hugs right now and will often insist on both when he's leaving, even if it's just to go outside. This morning he kissed me goodbye through the shower door when he left my bathroom. He always makes the kissing sound (mu-wah) when he kisses, and he likes to pull your face toward his using both hands. It's very endearing.

He's also very sensitive. Whenever anyone's crying (child or adult, real or fictional) he gets a worried look on his face and will tell me they are 'so sad' seemingly near tears himself. If they're a real person, he usually walks over to give them a hug and tell them he's so sorry. I love it most of the time, but it gets a little embarrassing when he does it to strangers at church or at the store.

I'm THAT mother

I lost Grayson in Kohl's yesterday.

We were looking for a new pair of shoes for him and I had unstrapped him from the seat so he could walk around a bit, go up on his tip-toes, and see how they fit. We found a pair we liked (unbeknownst to me they were 25 bucks!) and he sat down to take them off while I started putting shoe boxes back on the shelves. He started walking away from me, down the aisle, and I asked him to come back. He turned back to me for a minute, but then I saw 'the look' and he took off running in the opposite direction.

You see, Grayson gets this impish, mischievous look when he wants you to chase him or tickle him or throw him around. If you ignore 'the look' for too long, he'll start pulling on your hand, begging you to "get me, Mom" or "chase me, Dad" or whatever it is he'd have you do to him. It's very endearing, generally. But not this day. Not in Kohl's.

I just happened to be sitting cross-legged on the floor while I was sorting out the discarded shoes, so by the time I got up to follow him, he was turning the corner at the end of the aisle. I turned the corner about 15 seconds later, but poof!

He was already gone.

I quickly strode past all the shoe aisles, scanning up and down. No Grayson.

I thought I heard a crash across the main aisle in housewares, so I scanned those aisles as well. No Grayson.

I started calling his name as I headed back to shoes, expecting to hear his little voice pipe up, "I right here!" like he does when we're playing at home and I pretend I can't see him. Still no Grayson.

I started panicking. He disappeared so quickly, I just knew someone had taken him. He was probably already outside now, headed toward her car. He wouldn't be screaming if she offered him candy when she picked him up. Does she have a car seat for him? What am I going to tell Josh? Am I going to have to do an interview for the news? Will anyone empathize with me, or will I 'get what I deserved'? Will witnesses give their testimonials that the other woman seemed like his mother? She kept him happy, smiling all the way through the store as she carried him out the door without blinking an eye. When he's with me, he screams "Help me, Dad!" while I try to bend his legs and force his feet through the legs holes so I can strap him into the cart. Without fail, when he realizes I'm about to do up the buckle, he looks at me so angry, yet defeated, and cries, "No, Mom, please, no strap!" in one last futile attempt at freedom. We make for quite the show.

By this time I had searched textiles and women's bras as well. Still no Grayson. I went back to shoes to see if he had magically reappeared when I suddenly thought to say a prayer. God was kind enough to answer me and it was good news! I immediately knew Grayson hadn't been taken and was just wandering the store. I also knew he wasn't scared and that everything would be all right.

I saw a worker in shoes and asked him to radio for help for me to find my son. He directed me to a register to have the woman there call it in. I totally butted in line (sorry lady) and asked her what I was supposed to do if my son was lost in the store. The worker called a 'code yellow' (description: 2-year-old boy with dirty blonde hair and a bad haircut; wearing gray shirt, gray shorts, and white tennis shoes with the tags still on) and instructed me to stay there so they could bring him to me when they found him. Instead, I parked my diaper bag at an empty register and started walking toward the registers on the other side of the store. I must have had the 'my little boy is lost and I don't know whether I'm going to cry or beat him to a pulp' look on my face because a worker walked up to me and said, "He's over here."

Grayson was standing in the entry way by the far registers. I don't know how long he had been there, but when he saw me he started laughing and ran into the juniors section. I sighed, a worker darted after him, another said, "Wow, he's fast!" and another customer said, "Oh, it's so hard to see the short ones through all the racks." She smiled at me and told me she'd lost her son once before. I can’t say I felt better, but I did manage to feel less stupid.

We eventually made it home. Because Grayson had run through the store wearing the $25 shoes, they came home with us too. I didn’t cry and I didn’t beat Grayson when he was finally back in my arms. I just held him. Tightly.

I’m still THAT mother who will wrestle her toddler into the cart seat no matter how loudly he screams. The one who will let people cut in front of her in the checkout when her cart is full and they only have a couple of items. The one who will compliment a store’s management when she has a good experience. The one who will kiss her boy and tell him how much she loves him for as long as he’ll let her.

But I’m now also THAT mother who will ask God and others for help, and thank them profusely when it’s given. The one who will be slow to judge other parents for mistakes they may have made, knowing she's made plenty herself. The one to spring for $25 shoes every once in a while because hey, Grayson can really move in those puppies. The one that remembers no matter how crazy he makes me, Grayson is the apple of my eye, and I want nothing more than for him to be safe, healthy, and happy.