Reclaiming the Magic

I am a collections lawyer, or in more precise terms, a debt collector (at least according to the Supreme Court's ruling that law firms are debt collection agencies).  I know how to find real property, personal property, cash, coins, jewelry, televisions, trucks (running and not), and I am trained to reclaim that property.

So, why is it so hard to reclaim my baby magic? Not the pink lotion Baby Magic.  This magic: Magic is holding RJ when he was just weeks old, snuggled in my arms, snuffling sweet baby sounds. Magic is not holding RJ as he squirms, squeals, and attempts to bite my nose (really).  Magic is settling down for a Saturday nap with my boy. Magic is not listening to my boy scream through the bedroom door, "Mooooommmmyyyy! I wannnnaaaa mooooommmy!" Magic is hearing all about RJ's day ("I peed. I get M& M."). Magic is not working on case summaries in the bathroom floor while RJ takes his bath.

When I reclaim property, I am required to give notice. Ie, "You are hereby notified that a creditor is about to take your stuff." The debtor gets a chance to respond. Ie, "My stuff is exempt under Oklahoma law. I get to keep it."

I am hereby giving notice that I am reclaiming the magic. RJ still snuggles and snuffles sweetly--he just requires a different context. Last night, he fell asleep to the sweet sounds of an East Indian call representative trying to activate Hubbsie's iPhone. We all oddly enjoyed those moments of peace.  RJ still naps on Saturdays with me. He just requires some stories. I am reminded that the magic of story time won't last forever. And so, I am patient as I read "Thomas and the Big, Big, Bridge," again, and again. (It's windy up there. Very, very windy.). And, magic is still in hearing about RJ's day.  I just have to exercise the same advice I give him: "patience is a virtue, particularly when you're two (or 33)." After he plays with the neighborhood boys, he still tells me about his day. And, most days, "it was pretty good," he says, with a mouthful of pasta.

To those who may object to this reclamation: My magic is exempt. It is protected under the laws of the state of my sanity. Accordingly, I will continue to (1) work from home so that I can eat lunch with RJ; (2) give RJ his bath every night; and (3) rock RJ to sleep. (I've never known of a 12-year old boy who wanted his mommy to rock him to sleep, so I'm letting this phase play out on its own).