Life is an adventure.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Happy Birthday Bud!



He's finally seven! I never really gave the age of seven much thought. It's not like five or ten or twelve...it's seven. So my son turned seven on April 16th and ever since that day I've looked at him differently. He seems more gangly, his arms seem longer and skinnier and just kinda out of place. His legs seem less coordinated and his torso is long and lean. But he's only seven! He's talking to me about recycling! He told me yesterday he needs to be more responsible, to which I replied, "Yes, you absolutely do!" He seems to be maturing daily. He's growing up. But he's only seven! He was talking about something yesterday and said something like "next year when I'm in second grade..." Wait just one second, you were just in kindergarten and now we're talking second grade? How did that happen exactly? I have had this dream of being a stay at home mom with all my kids in school all day forever. My house will be clean, spotless even. Dinners will be planned and made and ready to eat by 5:30. Laundry will always be clean, folded and put away. I can scrapbook for hours and nobody will try to steal my stickers. I have been looking forward to this for a very looooooong time. However, that time in my life seems to be right around the corner and now I realize life is going by way too fast. This house will be very quiet when both of the kids are gone all day. A lady from a bible study I attended read this poem outloud one day and I found myself crying at the end. The thought of a quiet house with no kids running in and out makes me sad. I want it so badly, but when I think about it as a reality I want to stop time and enjoy where I'm at today. This motherhood thing is a tough job! But I'm thankful every single day I was blessed enough to be able to experience it. Enjoy the poem.

One of these days you'll explode and shout to the kids, "Why don't you grow up and act your age?" ...and they will. OR: "You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do. And don't slam the door!" ...and they don't.

You'll straighten up the boys' bedroom neat and tidy -- bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on the shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you'll say out loud, "Now I want it to stay this way.'' ...and it will.

You'll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you'll say, "Now, there's a meal for company.'' ...and you'll eat it alone.

You'll say: "I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence! Do your hear?''...and you'll have it.

No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghtetti. No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps. No more clothespins under the sofa. No more playpens to arrange a room around. No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathrooms. No more iron-on-patches, wet, knotted shoestrings, tight boots, or rubber bands for ponytails.Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it. No baby sitter for New Year's Eve. Washing only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn't ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap. No PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her hair at 11 o'clock at night. Having your own roll of Scotch tape. Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste. No more sloppy oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark. No knees to heal, no responsibility. Only a voice crying, "Why don't you grow up?'' and the silence echoing, "I did."...Erma Bombeck

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