Tuesday, May 29, 2012
All I know is, I'm giddy over having more of him for myself for the next eight weeks. I miss the guy. He's the exactly-right balance of inquisitive and unexpected. He's always wondering things. He's our resident expert on many topics, such as ocean life and space.
Last week, I finally tackled a stack of paperwork on my bedside table that threatened to mount an insurgency while I dreamed about flea markets and random people I haven't thought about in twenty-odd years.
Mid-tackle, I found this:
I got a little glowy. My chest may have puffed just the tiniest bit. I believed, in that moment, that the big work was surely done. We are parenting a child who spontaneously jots scripture from memory. I must at least be in the running for Mom of the Year.
You know what you should do when you find yourself in that moment? You should walk away, sister. You most certainly should not keep digging through the stack. I repeat - put the papers the heck down.
I have no idea how my precious baby child knows about "masash and tatoo". I had never seen his hand-lettered sign in all my life.
But at least it's only a part-time job.
I'm not afraid to admit it - I'm troubled.
Not Mom of the Year
PS - I'm guest-posting today about at Stuff Christians Like. Holla!