It's 8am and my son is still sleeping.
Happy Mother's Day to me!
I love this person and he knows it.
He's 5 and a half as of 6 days ago.
He was very upset that I had not planned a 1/2 Birthday Bash for him.
"Why didn't I send out invitations?"
"Am I even thinking about his 6th Birthday Party, yet?"
"Oh Mama...do you even have a jumping castle reserved and when are we going to Disneyland...I've never been in my whole life?!"
My precious little boy who fluctuates between being my Cuddle-Muffin-Kiss-My-Boo-Boos for me and now the Shut-the-Door-I-Can-Do-It-All-By-Myself kid makes my heart flutter, sink, rage and soften to a place of comfortable vulnerability.
He is so strong.
He wants what he wants but he will share it with everybody once he gets it.
This little boy is smart, curious, defiant and honest about it.
Like me, he has that very self inconvenient habit of admitting his follies.
"Mama...I broke this, I stole your lipstick, I cut up your shirt to make it more beautiful, I peed in the trash can to see what would happen".
He tells me all of it.
Or so I tell myself.
I love this age.
I remember my best friend telling me that each age was her favorite and I finally get it.
Newborn Atticus came in the midst of a crumbling marriage and I thnk he knew it.
Every night from 4 to whenever, his lungs wailed with cries and I remember holding him and thinking this speechless person is able to express my frustration in the most raw and honest way.
How will I ever show him love when our home is so dark and confining?
It was the complete opposite of how I wanted him to see the world.
During our divorce and transition, this boy kept me going.
He reminded me that I would be better...this was a stage and we would evolve and grow up together.
I'm finally growing up and he is a little boy.
Sometimes, he seems so much wiser than me and other times with fingers in nose, mouth and every other germ filled place I remember...nope he DOESN'T know everything.
I'm the Mama.
I make the breakfast, brush his hair, kiss his boo-boos, tell him when the scary parts of E.T. are over and I will be responsible for him for a long time and also have to find that balance between holding his hand tightly and then letting him run, fall and make a lot of mistakes.
A lot, I am sure.
So...Happy Mother's Day to me, to my own mother and grandmother and my community that tries to nurture and support us all on this brief little walk through life.