Some things I know, some things I don't
But here's one thing: there's a thing with boys and their moms, right? I'm not sure what kind of thing, but definitely some kind of thing.
He should know that. He was a boy left with his mom. But maybe his mom was never alone? Maybe his mom was always looking elsewhere, looking for whatever else there was: a new religion, a new man, a new apartment, a new city, maybe all four? And so maybe whatever thing there could have been between them was always drowned in trying to compete so hard with all the other things? How to get noticed when there are boxes to unpack, a new man to impress, new prayers to learn?
Meanwhile, here it's just the little and me. I'm not saying that's all I'll ever want, I'm not even saying it's all I want now. What I'm saying is that it's all that there is now, and I could not be more ok with that. And it feels like that's ok with him, too.
Life is so different now; he feels it, he has to feel it. The contrast between the two houses (or rather between that house and this apartment). There's a housekeeper over there and meals at restaurants. Vacations, but no Christmas stockings. Amazon-purchased halloween costumes that are too small, and then too big, and then just right the third time except the zipper breaks the first time you try it because Amazon Halloween Costume. And there's a momentary panic that morning of the Halloween Carnival at school, and I'm plenty pissed, to be honest, because I would have gladly taken on the responsibility of The Halloween Costume, it would have been no big deal, I've done it for the past nine years. I'd have nothing to prove by doing it, save for knowing that the fucking zipper wouldn't break ten minutes before we have to leave for school. But I decided to step aside, to create some space and maybe make some grace, if grace is something you make. And instead, the dumb costume broke and we raced to the closet and threw everything around because all the dress up clothes that I curated and found and thought up still live at Dad's house, so we really didn't have much to work with, but thank God Grandpa loves a rodeo, so there's always a cowboy hat and boots around, and there, that did it. It felt temporary, but later that night when we were leaving for trick-or-treating at Dad's house (because everything always has to be at Dad's house because normalcy is our currency these days), he wanted to keep it on because cowboys are rad and way better than Amazon Bio Hazard costumes, because really, what even IS that? And boy was Dad mad.
And we laughed. The whole night. Because maybe that's mostly how life is different now.
Anyway, here I am ranting about Halloween and it's January.
But here are things that happen now:
- He volunteers to carry bags up from the grocery store.
- Every time we walk by See's candy, we pop in, hoping the clerk will offer us free samples. If she doesn't, we tool around the shop pretending to browse but instead peek in my wallet. If we find $2, we buy two candies and eat them slowly on the way home, taking little bites so we can share.
- I think he knows that there's no Santa, or rather that I am Santa, because Santa only came to my house, not Dad's house, and he brought me binder clips and shampoo and face wash (all things that were on the grocery list) and brought him - among more fun sundries - batteries and new underpants and bath bombs, which he promptly offered to share with me just like I knew he would.
- On the weekends, when he gets up early, he feeds the kittens and lets me sleep.
- He doesn't complain about walking most places anymore because he has figured out that the more we walk, the more a leisurely Sunday restaurant breakfast is, and he pretends not to notice that he gets the chocolate chip banana french toast and I get a plain croissant.
And he holds my hand a lot, and since the car crash (that's another story) wants to hug me more, and when I crawl up into his bunk bed and kiss him all over his face instead of just tucking him in and ruffling his hair, he gets all blushy and tries - just for a minute - to not act thrilled and then gives up and just acts thrilled.
But also: OH! We get frustrated with each other, and life is less glamorous and less fancy and less adventurous and we're just HERE all the time, never anywhere fun and we get so so tired of one another, and we snap and we yell, but by and by we're able to explode and then a few minutes later circle back and explain. One of my favorite things to hear him say is, "You know, I've just had a really hard day..."
Because I get it, dude. I really do. There are some things I know.
He should know that. He was a boy left with his mom. But maybe his mom was never alone? Maybe his mom was always looking elsewhere, looking for whatever else there was: a new religion, a new man, a new apartment, a new city, maybe all four? And so maybe whatever thing there could have been between them was always drowned in trying to compete so hard with all the other things? How to get noticed when there are boxes to unpack, a new man to impress, new prayers to learn?
Meanwhile, here it's just the little and me. I'm not saying that's all I'll ever want, I'm not even saying it's all I want now. What I'm saying is that it's all that there is now, and I could not be more ok with that. And it feels like that's ok with him, too.
Life is so different now; he feels it, he has to feel it. The contrast between the two houses (or rather between that house and this apartment). There's a housekeeper over there and meals at restaurants. Vacations, but no Christmas stockings. Amazon-purchased halloween costumes that are too small, and then too big, and then just right the third time except the zipper breaks the first time you try it because Amazon Halloween Costume. And there's a momentary panic that morning of the Halloween Carnival at school, and I'm plenty pissed, to be honest, because I would have gladly taken on the responsibility of The Halloween Costume, it would have been no big deal, I've done it for the past nine years. I'd have nothing to prove by doing it, save for knowing that the fucking zipper wouldn't break ten minutes before we have to leave for school. But I decided to step aside, to create some space and maybe make some grace, if grace is something you make. And instead, the dumb costume broke and we raced to the closet and threw everything around because all the dress up clothes that I curated and found and thought up still live at Dad's house, so we really didn't have much to work with, but thank God Grandpa loves a rodeo, so there's always a cowboy hat and boots around, and there, that did it. It felt temporary, but later that night when we were leaving for trick-or-treating at Dad's house (because everything always has to be at Dad's house because normalcy is our currency these days), he wanted to keep it on because cowboys are rad and way better than Amazon Bio Hazard costumes, because really, what even IS that? And boy was Dad mad.
And we laughed. The whole night. Because maybe that's mostly how life is different now.
Anyway, here I am ranting about Halloween and it's January.
But here are things that happen now:
- He volunteers to carry bags up from the grocery store.
- Every time we walk by See's candy, we pop in, hoping the clerk will offer us free samples. If she doesn't, we tool around the shop pretending to browse but instead peek in my wallet. If we find $2, we buy two candies and eat them slowly on the way home, taking little bites so we can share.
- I think he knows that there's no Santa, or rather that I am Santa, because Santa only came to my house, not Dad's house, and he brought me binder clips and shampoo and face wash (all things that were on the grocery list) and brought him - among more fun sundries - batteries and new underpants and bath bombs, which he promptly offered to share with me just like I knew he would.
- On the weekends, when he gets up early, he feeds the kittens and lets me sleep.
- He doesn't complain about walking most places anymore because he has figured out that the more we walk, the more a leisurely Sunday restaurant breakfast is, and he pretends not to notice that he gets the chocolate chip banana french toast and I get a plain croissant.
And he holds my hand a lot, and since the car crash (that's another story) wants to hug me more, and when I crawl up into his bunk bed and kiss him all over his face instead of just tucking him in and ruffling his hair, he gets all blushy and tries - just for a minute - to not act thrilled and then gives up and just acts thrilled.
But also: OH! We get frustrated with each other, and life is less glamorous and less fancy and less adventurous and we're just HERE all the time, never anywhere fun and we get so so tired of one another, and we snap and we yell, but by and by we're able to explode and then a few minutes later circle back and explain. One of my favorite things to hear him say is, "You know, I've just had a really hard day..."
Because I get it, dude. I really do. There are some things I know.
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