You and the Old Man

Dear Mason,

Chances are,

by the time you are old enough to understand

how much this moment meant to your great-grandfather,

he won't be here to tell you.

You made his day perfect,

just by swinging.

Thanksgiving at the family farm in Virgina

was bittersweet this year,

as they may well all be from now on-

changes are here and will continue to come.

But you bring a light with you wherever you go,

and we see it reflected often in the Old Man's eyes.

He loves you dearly,

calls you his buddy,

and a cotton-pickin' mess.

Thanks for being you, little boy.

A lot of joy in a small package.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Love,

Mom

Boy and Dog

The Things You Say

You don't want it.

Your throat does.

Your throat is hungry, you tell me.

. . . though it seems that when I say "No,"

it's not your throat that starts to pout.

This week you've broken your haircut.

And your ideas.

(Something that your dad says he can relate to.)

You have a lot of words, you told me.

Very true.

Your favorite adjectives right now are

"disgusting" and "delicious"

and when I gave you a toy you got bored with quickly,

you said it was "freaking you out."

(Okay, you got that one from me.)

You don't like chicken.

Or noodles.

Or anything else that falls under the word "supper."

You don't even like food, you tell me.

You only like snacks.

And you sure don't like lemonade.

Just juice.

You've started calling me "Mama" and you

say it over and over again,

clearly just liking the way it sounds.

You want to go see a Strawberry Man.

So . . . you want me to buy strawberries from the

produce stand on the corner.

You call me back upstairs after I've tucked you in

because you want to give me a "biiiiiiiiiiig hug!"

Lately you like to kiss people on the nose.

Randomly and often,

you tell me you love me.

It makes my day every time.

Mother's Day

We spent the day in Wake Forest,

and ate a pizza lunch at the

Over the Falls Deli & Pizzeria.

You got some got vintage toy cars from the 70's.

I got an old colorful pillow with sparkles on it.

And your dad got to document it all.

You Drew Balloons

I'm late posting this-

it's repetitive in terms of the footage,

but I was blown away.

Three nights into your fourth year.

The third night sleeping in your new "big boy" bed.

I had taken your birthday balloons

and pinned them to the ceiling above you.

It seemed like it might be fun for you to look up at them,

blowing in the fan's path, while you fell asleep.

At some point between the time I put you down

and the time I went back up to check on you,

you had decided to draw them.

Had moved your drawing table to your bedside,

had sketched them in red marker,

and had gone to sleep.

You even capped your marker when you were finished.

You amaze me.

Rewind

Four years ago tonight I was another woman.

Four years ago tomorrow,

you came around.

And here I am.

Different and better.

Tonight I'm looking back.

All smiles and wet lashes.

Happy labor day, Monkey.

Rockstar Monkey

This is you.

Wearing my sunglasses and

keeping me company as I photograph my work.

It's very important to you that I take a picture

of your friend, Pinecone-y.