Two in One

Total Mama's Boy 

Today, a colleague at work answered his cell phone: "Hi mama." He proceeded to spend 10 minutes telling her that he had been sick; assuring her that he wasn't working too hard; and finally telling her he had to talk to some nasty lawyers in Seattle. When he hung up the phone, he asked me, "So, do you think I'm a total mama's boy? Because I am. It's okay." This guy is a Litigator with a capital "L." So, it made me smile that he's a proud mama's boy. 

My boy is a total mama's boy too. I hope he always is.  He's four (almost four and a half) now. He's growing up. Lately, he's a walking survey: 

"Hey mom, I gotta question."  "How do they make bananas?" "Is God in the donut shop?" "Can I have a treat?" RJ's questions range from the curious to the philosophical to the demanding and downright irritating. 

I worry that he's growing up too fast. He knows his alphabet and his numbers. He can recite his address and introduces himself to every kid on the playground.  He even has a bully at school. Big boy issues. But, last week he asked, "Do you remember when last week [year] we went and saw Thomas?" "Do he live here?" "No," I told him, "But he's visiting this weekend."  I hadn't gotten tickets. The train table has been in a state of disrepair due to G-zilla (GiGi) lately.  So, when RJ tells me he wants to see Thomas, I get a little happy. A lot happy. Kind of giddy.  

This kind of happy. Little boy train happy. 

Look at that concentration. He's going to be an engineer someday. And when I call him in the middle of a meeting, I hope he'll answer, "Hi mama."

For now, he's four. And nothing can stop him. 

Not even scary Diesel Ten and his claw. 

Complete, total joy. The Thomas train ride lacks a bit in scenery. We see the school bus service center--which, to a little boy, is thrilling. We also see some ramshackle government housing. And, every year, I secretly believe that the "conductors" in their jaunty Sodor Railway gear are really off-duty policemen packing heat. That train goes through some rough 'hood.

But none of that matters. Because it's Thomas! We helped him pull the freight cars: "Pull, Thomas, pull!" And, RJ wanted to know if we were riding Annie or Clarabel. 

He is growing up though. When we toured the gift shop, he asked, "Mom, instead of a train, when we leave here, could we, I mean, may we, I mean, can we go to WalMart and buy a Transformer?" 

What else could I say? 

Of course we adopted a Transformer. Because, "Mom, when I grow up, I'm going to be a super hero." "But, I'm going to live with you." 

A superhero? I suppose I can live with that. 

So, someday, when he answers his Bat-phone, even if he's saving the world, I know that I'll hear "Hi mama." And Wonderwoman will know that he's a total mama's boy. 

Enter Autumn

School is in full swing by now. RJ loves it. In fact, he gets angry, really angry, when I can't let him stay late to play with his friends. Last Sunday, he sang with his classmates. He's a showman. Really a showman. Jazz hands and everything. 

Ready for Broadway.  

Sissy is ready for show time too. 

The weather is getting colder. And that means it's time for the annual field trip. I'm "that" mom--the one whose babysitter called in sick at the last time and who had to bring the baby sister when the note from the teacher said "NO siblings." But seriously, who could turn this down?

She is not amused. But I am. And I'm the mommy. 

 I don't think I've seen him this happy in months. It makes my heart smile. 

So does this.

So does this. 

Girlfriend is growing up. But she hasn't quite grown into her cheeks. I hope she never quite does. 

She is, however, ready to take on the world. She already knows the keys to success: great shoes (she picked them out herself and wore them to bubbie's gymnastics class) and a Star Wars conversation starter (it's bubbie's lunch box, but she thinks it's her purse--battles ensue).  She's taking on her Mothers' Day Out class with style and adapting. The leaves are changing. We're sleeping in fleece, and the heater has already blown its first-of-season stink. 2012 has been a year of change. And we've adapted.  We're adapting to this Autumn season of our lives. And it's a good season.