It’s as black as night outside right now, so the beet chips I made for y’all will just have to wait. I know I’m lame and need a lightbox, but honestly, even if I had one, I’m not sure if I’d know how to use one. I guess I could google, but really? Yeah, my blog isn’t a business.
It’s a hobby I love.
The area that is my job is the arts and academia. As it is nearing the ides of August, I assume many of you will be returning to school soon, or shuffling your children off to the land of learning.
This is my son’s first year of real school. This year he starts kindergarten. I’m having quite the rough time of it. I cannot believe that in a precious few weeks, he’ll be gone from me for seven hours a day. Another part of me is really looking forward to some serious one-on-one time with his baby sister.
Just thinking about the fact that my boy is going to be in kindergarten rockets a lump to the back of my throat that threatens closure of my trachea. He’s been my sidekick for five years. We’ve spent long days at the zoo and playing cars on the floor, I’ve thought of a million different ways I could kill Foofa from “Yo Gabba Gabba”. I’ve listened to him wax poetic for hours about why the Silver Surfer is an under-appreciated comic book character, and I’ve answered a million questions, mostly related to his wiener.
He’s obsessed with his wiener. I really need to figure out how to make him *stop* talking about his wiener when in school. Somehow, he has to learn that his teacher probably doesn’t want to answer questions like “why do I have to hold my weenie down to pee in the morning?” or “why don’t girls have pee holes in their underwear?”
Yesterday, my son drank a GIGANTIC (huge, even for an adult…he was parched) beet, carrot, and orange juice from the juice truck. Today, he comes screaming out of the bathroom that his pee is pink and does that mean that he’s going to be a werewolf? Because, apparently, he put one and one together and came up with France.
These sorts of questions are not at all uncommon for the Captain. Yesterday he asked if he could have a pet robot, and his name should be Blinks Macintosh, and he would poop from his usb port. He assured me that Ikea sold such an object, and if they didn’t, it was ok, because he could just play in the ball pit instead.
You can see why I’ll miss him like crazy. The Captain was severely speech delayed, so I think that once he was able to communicate with others, being quiet was just a ridiculous notion.
Beyond all of my ridiculous concerns is an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I’m so thankful that I’ve been gifted with the most amazing and loving and active little boy G-d ever put on this planet. (in my opinion) I am grateful that he’s excited to learn and has a passion for it. I’m thrilled that he has family that puts education and play on equally elevated platforms. I’m grateful for his gigantic heart, and I am so absurdly grateful that he’s such an amazing brother.
–I realize this post was extremely sentimental. I can’t help it.