Calling me from his new cell phone. I’m almost off work, headed to pick him up…
“Mom! When you leave work, just go! No texting. And no twitter. I know your hobbies!”
Damn. My own kid called me out. Too bad I’m not teaching him how to twitter with his new phone. SUCKER.
As I’m driving to pick him up, I get another call…
“Mom! I want to go play at the school!”
“Who’s going to watch you?”
“I dunno, there’s people there but I don’t know them.”
“You think I’m going to let strangers watch you?!”
“My dad does.”
Thought I would share this quick video of him using his birthday present/reason for future ER visits. If he isn’t acting like this, he’s being a little asshole.
That’s my baby. Wait. No. He’s not a baby anymore. On Saturday, he’ll be 8. Sigh. Eight. It’s hard to wrap my mind around. I was 18 when he was born and I felt like I knew nothing about life. 8 years have gone by and some days I feel the same. But. I have this little boy who is rushing to be a man and I am not sure how to slow that down. Even though, just now, I had to remind him not to put money in his mouth. And then I had to smack him for pretending to choke on that money. Sigh.
What can I say? The kid has the ability to make my heart swell to the point of bursting and less than five minutes later, I feel like wringing his neck. It takes a special talent to do such things. See because sometimes, he stops being a brat for five seconds, and he grabs me by the hand, and he makes me dance.
And when he lays down next to me, and asks to snuggle, as I hear his breathing get heavy, I can’t help but think about how much love I have for him.