May 21st, 2007

the kind that gives you weight

So, it’s been just me and the boy all weekend. The two of us against the world. We share a pizza with black olives for dinner. A birthday party in the pizza place gives Jack a piece of chocolate cake and a balloon. Nummy, nummy, mama! he claps his hands. Tochit-take, mama! Dack’s tochit-take! It takes us 20 minutes to walk a block and a half back home, chasing each other back and forth, tickling and squealing as he catches me and I catch him, balloon bobbing along on his wrist behind him.

Wait, mama! Wait, mama! he calls. Jack, I say, do you want mama to chase you? Otaaaay! he shrieks, full of adrenaline, and jets off the exact opposite way that we are meant to go.

God I love this scrappy boy.

I finally gather him into the elevator, help him reach up to push the button. Hi-eeee! he says coyly to the elderly man traveling up with us, holds out his balloon for him to admire. The man looks surprised at first and then melts into tune with him. I’m bursting with all the pride in the world. He has chocolate all over his face.

Bedtime tonight is impossibly poignant. He takes my hand, leads me to the rocking chair, chooses a book from the shelf for me to read. He fills in the end rhymes from memory: “Would you eat them on a …” Tain! “Could you eat them in the ...” Rain!

This is a rare night: the light turns off without a fuss. He is ready to curl up into his crib. Mama too? he says as I lay him down. It’s my cue. I make myself as light as possible and carefully climb over the rails, bend my cramped body around his. His teddy bear gives me kisses. Soo niiiice, mama!

I stroke his hair, whisper the old words in his ear, mamaloveyou, mamaloveyou, gotchyou, gotchyou

This love is not sugar sweet. It’s like a sharp blow to the stomach, primal, unbearable even. I’m feeling it as he begins to drift, pierced with the weight of it.

And then he farts. Giggles.

It’s official. I am completely shattered.

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Posted by: Sarah on May 21st, 2007
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