Happy Mother's Day

I was awoken by small rustlings in my bedroom, and opened my eyes to find some handmade cards on the pillow next to mine. One was a mash note from my husband, one was a bunch of KiNex* gears glued to a piece of paper, and one was a large pink scribble with a poem:

Chrysials are pink,
Violets are blue,
Roses are red,
I made a pink scribble just for you!

My son loves me.

Yesterday we put his wading pool and water table out under the trees in the yard--they still don't give you a ton of shade, but when we moved in they were so scrawny and sad, and now you can put a wading pool in their shade. The yard is in Florida spring mode, which means bare patches and brown grass with occasional clumps of weeds and wildflowers, as we pass out of the dry season and get started with rainy season. Around about July it will, usually, be raining enough that we'll have a jungle out there, but for now it's a little sad. Add in the mis-matched lawn chairs and the swing set that really needs a paint job after 2 summers, and we're looking pretty Dogpatch at casa Zweeble.

On the other hand, it's nice to sit in the shade with my feet in the pool and watch my kid wade around and splash. Peaceful. And I have definitely needed some peace the past month or so. There has been some really great stuff going on, but it's been surrounded by a lot of massive change and stress. 2011 is, in fact, going down in history as the Year of Crazy-Ass Change, and it's only 5 months along.

But that's as may be. Now I am going to get the dishwasher unloaded, and start a little laundry, and then have lunch with my parents before they spoil my son. I should also ponder the first three eps of Doctor Who, because I have Thoughts.

*KiNex are like Legos, except they're mostly gears and rods.

thinking about motherhood today

There are a lot of things about being a mom that I find cool. Some of them are the traditional things--little hands in yours, sloppy kisses, hearing "I love you," crayon scribbles--and some of them are more individualized. Like the kick I get out of Z's hands being big enough finally so we can interweave fingers when we hold hands, or how when we go to the park he likes to play Evil Scientist #2. This morning he told me our favorite show was on, and when I came out of the bedroom I found that Scott was watching Doctor Who.

(The Scooby-Doo obsession is one I find disturbing. Spongebob I can chalk up to being something kids just like, like ceiling fans and dinosaurs, but I never liked Scooby-Doo when I was a kid; this is going to kill me.)

My mother had this thing: when she was reading, you could call her name and she would never respond the first time. You could ask her a question and she wouldn't answer. So you'd ask her again, or repeat her name, and she'd look up and say, "What?"

I was convinced she was just ignoring me all those years. Except today I was reading, and Z said, "Mom!" and I looked up and heard Scott saying, "I'll take care of it, buddy," and I realized I vaguely remembered Z talking, but I didn't remember actually hearing anything he said.

Ah, motherhood. What will Z be convinced I'm doing (or not doing) on purpose, when it's actually not?

On the other side of the reading issue ... I have found that motherhood has increased my discipline ("I only have an hour and a half to do this while he's napping--MOVE MOVE MOVE!") and my patience (mostly); I like watching my kid grow and learn and all that jazz; I am absurdly proud of tissue-paper glued to paper cutout crafts and Line Leader/Teacher Helper badges. But dear god do I miss being able to read for two or three hours at a time without interruption or getting so sleepy my eyes won't focus. Also, having an awake, uninterrupted adult conversation with my husband every single day is something I would not have expected to consider a luxury.

Seriously, it's like he has some sort of kid radar that goes off five minutes after I open a book. I'm pretty sure there's a switch that flips based on the timbre and tone of Scott's and my voices: ADULTS TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING BESIDES THE CHILD. QUICK, DEMAND JUICE!

In fairness, though, he's been an incredibly polite kid the past few days. He shared, didn't have tantrums when faced with a one-year-old grabbing his stuff, and has been asking nicely for things. He's also been doing the "Excuse me, Daddy" and "Sorry to interrupt, parents, but ..." things that I taught him half because he was driving me crazy one day, and half because I thought it would be hilarious.

I have to go look at a beautiful drawing right now, so I will wrap this up ... (no, really, I do! He's got quite the sense of timing.)