SMA 5K 2013

This is my cousin Caleb.  Please join our family as we rally for a cure!

reflections of a little boy

he sits in patient anticipation of what he isn't always sure.

but he hopes as all little boys do.

they don't forget no matter how long it takes.

he will always wait.

maybe he will see his reflection in the window.

making faces while he waits.

the slightest hint of knowing something good will happen.

his tender heart gives way to the hope of never ending.

eyes open wide to surprise and wonder of what life holds.

his strength is more than he knows.

a super hero he dreams of being.

he never wants to be outdone before he comes undone.

holding on tight to what he knows is right.

just a little boy growing up fast and he doesn't know.

as he looks out a window he doesn't know it.



this little boy of mine

in just a few hours he will begin his 2nd year with a few old friends and meet new ones.

i tend to stay up during the night before a big day for him.  he's a restless soul.  he counts the days, the hours, the minutes.  and when he finally sleeps i can count on him to toss and tumble.  waking at least once.  and he does.

"mama?"  and i dash down the hall to his room.  he tells me he can't sleep.  "you've already been sleeping."  i tell him.  and he asks "how many more hours til i go to school?"  so i scootched him over telling him "5 hours."  i lay down beside him as he snuggles back down into his covers curled in next to me.  and in moments he breathes softly as i slip away.

i check his supply list, again.  i grab his backpack and the bags of supplies that he will take with him.  the dog ate one 24ct pack of crayola crayons.  thankfully i had gotten 2 packs.  all is set and ready to go.  and i hear "i'm thirsty."  as i take him some water i can tell today will be along day for him.  thankfully he is able to go back to sleep. 

when he's ready to leave i will take his picture.  as i will every year.  because i know this little boy of mine, he's gonna let it shine.

looking at God

in his little face i see everything.  this little boy.  his eyes with long lashes.  he looks down.  and i say "look at me."  and he does.  but only for a moment.  i fuss at him.  "look at me."  again.  and again.  finally, he looks long enough to pay attention.

anyone who knows me knows i am not "kid friendly."  sad but true.  my patience is extremely thin.  i don't volunteer for the kids at church.  i don't do birthday parties very well.  i stand back and watch.  all those mothers who jump in and get all dirty and sticky.  ick.  what a reflection i am painting for all the world.

don't get me wrong though.  my kid.  i love.  dirty, sticky, stinky, icky, yucky, rotten.  he's mine and i love him.  but its the other little boy.  ick.  i thought.  ick.  why doesn't his mother clean him up?  he's always dirty, sticky, stinky, icky, yucky, rotten.  eeewwwwwww.  i can't do this.

i can't do this.  i. can. not. do. this.  no.  but i do.  ick.  this little boy with the eye lashes.  his shirt is on backwards.  again.  i say nothing.  he lives differently.  we have rules.  he has his own.  and it drives me nuts.  but i do this.  i do this.  "me too" he says.  "me too."  and he does.

this little boy has a buddy.  a best buddy.  my little boy.  and i have no choice.  "can i go over to his house?"  ooohh nnoooo!  please don't ask me to do this!  "can i go over to his house mama?"  ick.  i have an instant headache.  "go on."  my little boy runs and bangs on the door.  i think "well at least i don't have to worry about cleaning up a mess."  my house is silent.  the guilt washes over me.  i'm not so kid friendly.  no.  i'm not.

it started with wednesday night church.  "can he go mama?"  i realize the age difference.  i realize they have to be together or they will both be upset.  i realize the disabilities others will have to deal with and accept.  i realize i will have to explain why.  "he's hard to understand."  "he's younger than my son but he'll cry if he has to go to another class for his age."  "they have to be together."  "things are different with his family." 

now its sunday school and church.  "we'll see."  we find an extra booster seat by the car.  i sigh.  loudly.  i don't want to do this.  "mama can he come too?"  sigh. again.  how can i explain otherwise.  how can i say no.  i can't explain my "ick" feelings.  he's a little boy.  "me too?"

i left the house today.  to get away from boys.  to go to a girl store.  to look at girl things.  no boy stuff.  the cable guy was coming anyway.  that's boy stuff.  i remember my husband grunted as i left.  not a groan.  but a definite grunt.  i did not feel the least bit guilty.  i was tired of being the meanie.  i'm the mean mama.  you have to mind me!

i left a coupon at home.  it was worth driving back to the house for.  the clerk was more than glad to hold my things while i left to go get my coupon.  "if you give me $20 i'll take the boys with me and stop at mcdonald's."  did i just say that?  were those my words?  i watch my husband light up like a christmas tree waving a 20 at me.  "me too?" the little boy asked.  "go ask your mama."  did i really, i mean really, did i say that? 

load 'em up and move 'em out.  we go back to the store.  we all hold hands crossing the parking lot.  "now you boys behave.  don't touch anything.  no running.  or no mcdonald's."  such good little boys in a girl store.  i find the cure all for my ick.  each little boy gets a blueberry smelling antibacterial hand gel with a neat holder to go on their belt loop.  "me too?"  he asks.  "you too."  i say.

both boys are noise sensitive and mcdonald's was a zoo!  blood curdling screams could be heard for 2 blocks with no end in sight.  it was a birthday party in full swing.  ick.  ick.  ick!!!  but 2 chicken nugget happy meals later and eleventy three (yes, i said eleventy three) trips thru the tunnels and down the slides you would never have known their ears hurt.  and it was soooooooo hot.  and our table was right in the sun.

with seatbelts buckled and headed for home we discovered a great air conditioner.  all four windows all the way down.  with blood curdling screams all my ick flew out the window as  two little boys with full bellies laugh into the wind.

as we ride down the hill and both hands on the wheel i realize i'm looking at God.

a decision

i have put the cart before the horse.

this blog has had an extreme start and stop process.  a couple of years ago i realized that all around me people were talking about "blogs" and building their sites, etc.  so i jumped on the band wagon.  i'm still not very savvy with this kind of thing.  i've poked and prodded.  but i finally got the layout i could work with.  after all of that stress i took a stab at "blogging" and wrestling with just what to blog about.  i jumped around the globe (i suppose) and read what others were talking about.  what they were selling.  what their passions were.  i felt, and still do, so intimidated because i didn't have a specific thing to write about so i chose to just start talking about stuff.  then i stopped.  life was moving fast and i had other priorities.

now i'm back with a purpose.  for years i have written.  and written.  and written.  dare i say composed. 

so i have decided that i do have a passion.  what i remember.

from this point i will tell you what i remember...

what i remember

i don't remember much about my childhood.  maybe its a blessing.  i don't remember birthday parties.  but i know i had one.  my first.  i have a small black and white of me sitting on a table in a pretty little dress in front of a birthday cake.  its a sweet picture.  i remember one christmas at my mother's house.  my brother and i are sitting in front of the christmas tree.  my mother fussed at me for making a silly face while she was trying to capture our picture in our christmas pjs.  i suppose thats why i always have christmas pjs to open on christmas eve.  i won't let go of that tradition.  i remember kindergarden.  the lady that ran it was named mrs weems.  i can remember being there.  like flashes.  we were all sitting at tables.  we must have been coloring pictures.  my stomach hurt so i stood up.  i just stood there.  and the inevitable happened.  the humiliation i felt from my mother was much worse than the embarrassment i felt in front of the other children.  i remember being walked up the steps into the attached home.  her housekeeper, i suppose, had me undressed, cleaned up and in clean clothes that did not belong to me.  i remember the car ride home and the paper sack that carried the offending clothes.  another flash.  my mother has taken me to kindergarden.  it was nap time.  i remember being told if i was quiet i could go outside and play.  i must have had a doctors appt.  i remember standing at the fence.  the courtyard was actually surrounded by a wall with a fence atop the stone wall.  i was holding onto the fence crying.  i wanted her to come back.  i wasn't quiet.