Liking This Not-Working Thing
This is what I get to experience 5 days a week as I retrieve my son from 4K. He's made a block of friends — boys — and they play basketball, soccer, or clamor around the playground immediately upon leaving the building. But each candidate for try outs much prefers the men-who-run-with-wolves approach: a bonanza of arms, legs, feet, growls. This group of boys has discovered the great male pastime of the ages otherwise known as tackling — a sport which nature seems to have intended for nascent males.
Lucky for you the actual guttural sounds have been removed. You wont have to listen to the high-spirited cries and roars of these savage beasts.
What will I do when I get a job? I wont get to witness this male-blustering hilarity of developing testosterone.
* * * * *
We've been pretty busy around here. We picked up a tree for Oliver's room this year not much taller than he. Peanut was beyond excited to decorate it with a multitude of colors and ornaments.
My pops and Dotti were over that night, and everyone helped Oliver in some capacity, but the job was completely run by him. Once the tree was done, Oliver ordered everyone to "step back now" and admire his work from afar (about 4 feet away). We stared at his little creation in all it's glory.
That night when he went to bed, he fell asleep gazing at the tree.
He seems so grown up now. When I checked on him this evening, he looked so angelic (he is really sweet) and toddler-ish. I'm hanging on to his innocence, savoring every last moment of his 5th year on this planet.
* * * * *
As for me, I'm doing well. Last Tuesday I awoke and decided that I was no longer going to battle. I will stand up for myself and my son, but I put down my armor, my weapons, my fight-plan. I'm so done being angry, hurt, pissed off, hopeless, depressed. I dusted off the dark cloud, cleansed my addled brain, and moved on.
I have a lot in front of me that's great and wonderful. I've lost a lot, and all I can do is learn from it. I'm not going to recoup my losses. I'm picking myself up by my 4-inch-heel-boot-straps and moving on, looking toward the next chapter of my life, while walking thru this one.
It feels damn good.
Standing tall and (mostly) worry- pain- grief-free. Just for today.
* * * * *
Tackle After School - Take 4
Here's another must-see video if you have any interest in watching jovial 4 year old boys attack one another with the energetic enthusiasm of 10-week old puppies.