"Ack. I don't like this song." I pushed another button on the dash to switch the radio station.
'No one, no one, no o-ooone...could get in the way of what I'm feelin'
No one, no one, no o-ooone....could get in the way of what I feel for you--ouuu.'
Yes! Alicia! I turned to my almost 6 year old son beside me in the truck, "I love this song!"
And I sang it.
At the red light I took my son's hand and sang it to him as he just stared back at me completely unfazed by my enthusiastic (and awesome) singing.
Apparently he's used to this.
The light turned green and I accelerated, still singing. Loudly. As loud as I possibly could without hindering my AMAZING car singing voice.
I kept waiting for my little guy in the back to pipe up and tell me to pipe down. That wouldn't have been super unusual.
In fact, even though my nightly rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star is clearly welcomed every night, my singing at pretty much any other time of the day is not.
Not that his protests stop me. Ever.
They continued their quiet as I continued to become Alicia Keys.
Until...
"MOMMY! TURTLES!"
I panicked slightly wondering if my eldest son saw large tortoises crossing this very busy road and I was obviously not paying close enough attention - thanks to Alicia.
My eyes searched back and forth and in all mirrors as quickly and as safely as they possibly could being that I was driving a large vehicle.
There could not possibly be turtles in January. Near a very busy intersection!? Right?!
"TURTLES! THERE MOMMY!" Was he speaking about those delectable chocolate, pecan and caramel morsels? Perhaps a truck that had such advertisement on the side?
What on earth was he talking about?! Turtles?!
"Where in the world are you seeing turtles buddy?"
"Up there! In the sky! Look! There's so many!"
Sure enough what looked like a fluffy white herd of turtles was crossing the bright, blue January sky.
Ah joy.
I laughed and at once was so very proud that this child of mine could see what I don't often see but continues to see what I taught him so long ago while on a mild winter walk in February almost 2 years ago...
A world of imagination in the sky.
Friday, January 10, 2014
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
All You Really Need to Know
As I was un-decking my halls on a very bitter winter day I picked up the silvery blue Christmas bulb with a picture of my eldest at 3 months old. His scrumptious little face peered back at me with intense blue eyes and pouty lips. I pressed the small round button fixed at the top and out came a tiny yet husky voice of Adrian at the age of 19 months.
19 months. Way back when I said his age in months.
"Ho..ho..hoooo" a tinny, sweet and short melody that made nostalgia at it's best bloom in the pit of my belly.
My heart knocked slowly, dimly at an unopened door.
I stopped and listened to it once again.
And again.
And again.
After forlornly placing it back in it's box I could hear the sounds of pounding little feet and big-little boy voices casting spells on each other as they ran up and down and around the house with brightly coloured plastic drumsticks in hand as their wands.
Stay present.
I tell myself this so many times daily.
Stay present.
And yet my heart knocked again against an unknown door.
Stay present.
For years from now the echoes of those little boys voices will quiet to a brief brush of a whisper.
And again...knock....knock.....knock.
As they ran down the stairs past me I called out,
"Hey guys?"
"What?" there was a slight tone of annoyance in my eldest's voice, the tiny huskiness still present but mostly gone.
I caught his still so soft, still bright eyed innocent, open face in my hands. His eyes, so like my own, searched mine calmly while his body itched, still ready to play.
"I love you." I kissed each of their soft cheeks. The tips of their button noses. And returned to smooching their cheeks. I smothered their faces in kisses. Too many, perhaps, for their liking.
His reply, "I know you do." He hopped down from the stairs upon which we stood.
My little one was in full sprint passed me already but he called out behind him, "I knew you would say that!"
And I suppose...that's all I really needed to know.
19 months. Way back when I said his age in months.
"Ho..ho..hoooo" a tinny, sweet and short melody that made nostalgia at it's best bloom in the pit of my belly.
My heart knocked slowly, dimly at an unopened door.
I stopped and listened to it once again.
And again.
And again.
After forlornly placing it back in it's box I could hear the sounds of pounding little feet and big-little boy voices casting spells on each other as they ran up and down and around the house with brightly coloured plastic drumsticks in hand as their wands.
Stay present.
I tell myself this so many times daily.
Stay present.
And yet my heart knocked again against an unknown door.
Stay present.
For years from now the echoes of those little boys voices will quiet to a brief brush of a whisper.
And again...knock....knock.....knock.
As they ran down the stairs past me I called out,
"Hey guys?"
"What?" there was a slight tone of annoyance in my eldest's voice, the tiny huskiness still present but mostly gone.
I caught his still so soft, still bright eyed innocent, open face in my hands. His eyes, so like my own, searched mine calmly while his body itched, still ready to play.
"I love you." I kissed each of their soft cheeks. The tips of their button noses. And returned to smooching their cheeks. I smothered their faces in kisses. Too many, perhaps, for their liking.
His reply, "I know you do." He hopped down from the stairs upon which we stood.
My little one was in full sprint passed me already but he called out behind him, "I knew you would say that!"
And I suppose...that's all I really needed to know.
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