Skippito Friskito is 6 today. Actually, he was 6 as of 2:20 am this morning. I say this as I sit here in robe, nightgown (short one), knee socks and flats that are painted with hearts and skulls. I noticed how I was dressed this morning and had that brief moment of “whoa! I’m SO mom right now…” This comes on the heel of the very best gift ever: I got to clean my house.
Yep. You heard it. I got to clean my house and I considered it a gift.
I’m wondering what this means in the greater context? Does this mean that I’ll ooh and ahh over toilet bowl cleaner and Clorox? Does this mean that I’d rather have pink rubber gloves than jewelry? Does this mean that Todd could give me dishsoap, new dish towels and a scrubby for our anniversary?
Um no.
Although, one of my favorite Christmas gifts was the Oreck vacuum cleaner my mum gave me several years ago. I LOVE that vacuum cleaner.
Todd could give me house cleaning service for a present and I’d faint out of happiness.
I’ve been telling him that one for years.
I think the problem is that I grew up with Alice from the Brady Bunch. Who wouldn’t want an Alice??? Cool, gramma-like lady to love on your family, plus she’d do the cooking and cleaning. And then I write that and think, whoa! Can anyone say indentured servitude? Crap. Now I can’t even fantasize about having an “Alice” at our house.
Growing up sucks.
So my Big Monkey is 6. Where did the years go? This means in 2 days Maddy is going to be 15 and that just blows my mind… Happy Birthday Maddy – I miss you so, so much. I hope your birthday is great and I hope you do something really fun.
6 years ago I was waking up about now, shivering because I had gotten an infection during delivery. I felt miserable and Todd was really sick too. Within a day none of that mattered… I kept holding Brennan and I remember feeling like my whole world had tipped over and turned on it’s side. Of course, and this was foretelling, I remember desperately trying to get some sleep when I roused because I could hear a little “waah, waah, waah” coming towards my hospital room…. I KNEW it was Brennan and sure enough, the nurse wheeled him in and said, “He’s keeping the other babies awake.” Oy.
I remember holding him on the delivery bed and feeling like I had never, ever seen anything half so amazing as him. And then seeing Todd, mum and Wendy holding him and knowing that he would always be loved.
I remember us with our giant hands trying to dress his little tiny body when we were leaving the hospital. Nothing is funnier than two grown people wrestling with a tiny, grumpy newborn.
I remember driving home and passing the downtown area, including the bar where mommy and daddy met, and I felt like I was on a different planet.
I remember the first night home, when he had been crying for 4 hours straight and the frantic call to nurse line for advice (and the wish that we had that nurse call button).
I remember his first sponge bath, memorialized on video, and how I had just finished it when he pooped all over himself.
I remember seeing my dad holding him, commenting about how beautiful he was.
It goes on and on, small moments that collect together, creating this lovely image of his first days, weeks, and months of life. It was a combination of the hardest time for us and the most incredible. Bren was colicky and pissed off at the world for the longest time. Something crazy wonderful happend and when he could walk and talk, he got what he needed most – the ability to do his own thing and the ability to tell us all the things going on in that awesome brain. Suddenly life got better for him.
Who is he now? He’s funny… he’s sweet…. he’s bossy and simultaneously loud and too quiet. He loves books, video games, his friends, school, his little brother, his family, Blue Bug, and this year he said he’s thankful for his dog, Danny.
He’s smart, but not obnoxious (most of the time). He has a big heart, but he’s also a normal kid – fixed on treats, cartoons, and “action-y” things. He can get the worst morning breath I’ve ever smelled and he hates to have his hands dirty. He went through a phase where his clothes had to be a just so (and sometimes that still crops up) – his pants couldn’t touch the tops of his feet, he had to have his tags cut out of shirts, he couldn’t stand feeling the seam in his socks…
I really wish that I had written down all the funny things he’s said… There was the time that I was driving him in the minivan when he was three and he yelled from the back, “We’re all gonna die!!!!” Or the time he started singing “Funky Towel” from Joe’s Apartment and Wendy almost drove off the road.
Or the time, early in his spoken language process, when he told us he wanted to go to the “Mooie Bear.” After long, frustrating moments where we asked him to repeat it (and him gradually getting more frustrated), I asked him what they had at the “mooie bear.” He answered, clear as a bell, “Popcorn.” Ahhhhhh, movie theater.
And now? How can he simultaneously be one of my favorite people to be around and to laugh with AND the most exhausting, exasperating, tiring, grumpy-mummy-making? And tiring….
Here’s my thought: I wouldn’t trade being his mum for anything. I wouldn’t trade being mum to both of my boys for anything and I don’t say that lightly. All you other parents out there probably know what I’m talking about… I hope. I’ve never thought of what could be if I didn’t have one or both of them. All I can think now is Ahhhh, this is who I am supposed to be.
Now it’s time to get up and get showered, get him ready for school and get started on the continued cleaning and unpacking. I have to pick up my paycheck from the university and get it into our account. I have to bake a birthday cake with sprinkles and fudgy icing. I am mom…
Have a very, very happy day today. I send out birthday wishes to Bren and all who share this wonderful birth day with him. I send out lots of love and pre-birthday wishes to Maddy – you are one of the coolest kids I’ve ever known.
Cheers, from a very satisfied moonfire.
Ramblings of a Wild for Words Woman 