The Monkey Barrel

Archive for September, 2007

It seems that babyhood is nearly behind us. Fairly soon, no more diapers and night before last the crib moved to the corner to make room for his big boy bed. He has been marvelous with it. Gets right in, stays in, calls to get up. Amazing. Though John was a fluke in that respect. Fred will take apart the crib today and stow it in the attic. I’ll probably cry, like I always do at the passing of an age. A bit of regret mingled with pride. Why must it progress so quickly, the stages of infancy to man?
There’s not too much new on the John front. He is a magnificent speller. A trait that can only be traced back to me. Finally something in him I can grab a little credit for! He started Awana’s at church this week and loved it. I can’t wait to see his brain begin to wrap around the word of God. He is too young to really ingest it, but the seeds will be planted for the day that it will all be clear. He will surprise himself with what is stored in there someday and probably us too. John never ceases to amaze.

A poop in the potty is worth a lollipop for Luke, applause from the family, and a delighted smile from mommy. A poop in the potty is worth a snicker from John that accompanies all body functions with boys at any age. A poop in the potty is worth another diaper I don’t have to buy to be filled and changed with a grimace. A poop in the potty is worth a little boy’s pride in his accomplishment and a chin held high. A poop in the potty is worth a flush and a hand washing to splash water all over the mirror. A poop in the potty is worth an ounce of independence and a pound of parenting to govern it. A poop in the potty is worth a quiet sigh that babyhood is nearly behind us and the toddler years are barreling through whether we’re ready or not.

His first day was GREAT MOM. Screaming those words into the big red kitchen. Full of tales and smiles and grins and growth and happiness. He loves school so much. The little guy and I sat over cookies and listened to the big one retelling. I can’t ever remember a day of school that excited me in the way it set John on fire. Luke looked over at me with a big grin, just happy to have his big buddy home to play.
This morning the cartoons are on. All the ones Luke likes and and no fighting for channel time or a chance to lay his own fingers on his own toys. But there is a luster that is missing when his hero is home. A buoyancy that’s lost with no other ball to bounce with. It’s so quiet, just the squirt and I and so unbelievably beautiful. I loved the time I had alone with John when it was just us, and now to get the chance with Luke is double-tastic. Oh the things we’ll do and the places will go and the times we’ll enjoy just bein home.

When I was a girl
The first day of school
Smelled like glue, playdough
And cookies
Mom made giant
Saucer sized monstrosities
That she called cookies
And we ate ‘em like fiends
They were always oatmeal raisin
Saved for very last
After the soggy pb and j and apple
And juice in the thermos
I had a metal lunch box
Red plaid, w/ a wire thermos holder
It smelled like oranges , a little rust
And those dang cookies
So tonight
The night before the first day
I’m up to my elbows
In the big red kitchen
Making cookies the size of small planets
Hoping that someday
When he’s raising his own
The night before the first day
He’ll remember the volcano lunch box
And cookies the size of his head.