The week had been exhausting.
I don’t know how you single parents do it… but when my husband is out of town working for a week and I manage to get the kid to school with a breakfast of a granola bar and gummy vitamins, I feel like a rockstar.
And oh.my.Lord… was it ever a crazy school week.
Huge Science Fair project, check.
(which I hilariously caught another kid posing with a’la Vanna White for a picture)
Wacky Outfit Day, check.
(With a request for purple spiked hair, no less. Another sleeping picture, poor kid.)
A baseball game sans Daddy, check.
(You’re looking at the first hit of the game and scorer of two runs!)
Up before dawn. Two hours of driving each day. A fulltime job. A birthday party to plan. Mother’s Day. Meals to my mother who’d come out the losing end of a battle with her lawn mower. A Spring Musical. Is it any wonder I still looked like my post-toilet-water-battle mugshot?
The morning of his birthday party, Itty Bit was on his way to a bath.
The next thing I knew, a little streaker with a pair of glasses and cowboy hat was making bang-bang noises at his very surprised mother.
The day only got crazier from there.
We tempted fate at the bounce house infamous for our Stupid Injury collection. This time no blood or concussions – success!
You have to love that my big butt takes a couple seconds to figure out this gravity vs. bounce house thing… and the kids totally scatter.
You know he didn’t want to turn seven? Because it was an odd number? (OCD much?) Every single time someone sang to him, he had this pensive look.
Oh kid… I hope you realize soon how much fun seven is going to be!
A story in two pictures:
A fart bomb, of cooouuurse.
(Look at May-May’s face. I dare you not to grin)
But what I really loved?
Was the fact that a big fat twenty-dollar bill fell out of this card. And he quickly scooped it up and dropped it in front of me without hardly looking at it. He was too enthralled with a card full of pictures that were hand-drawn for him by some of his best friends.
(Of course, that twenty came in handy later when he wanted some Legos, but for that moment, I loved that he was delighted over someone’s thoughtfulness rather than the cash. I felt like a good mom for 14.2 seconds).
And then? Grandma and Grandpa pulled rank after the party.
And busted out an honest-to-goodness cap gun.
Because we don’t have enough weaponry in his life.
He didn’t enjoy it.
In a day pretty much awesomesauce for any almost-7 year old, he got to run around the field with a Transformers glow necklace and throw dandelions in a bonfire.
I think it was a modern day Norman Rockwell life.
He ended it perfectly with a clone trooper helmet in bed.
(You see why I never know what I’m going to stumble upon when I tell him to get ready for a bath or get ready for bed?)
And he woke up Mother’s Day excited to be Captain Rex again.
(What? You noticed he slept in that shirt? This is my ONE trick for restoring some of my sanity… no early morning wardrobe changes! Don’t judge :)
I really love this picture. Because we all share our birthday parties, but you can see my sister is in on the secret that we are fake-blowing so Itty Bit can have the fun.
I really heart her.
Why yes, those are pumpkin rolls. Which are heretofore our cake of choice… can you seriously beat a BACONATOR? Or chocolate peanutbutter?
Yes, Mr. Daddy was there too. Apparently partied out.
And when we attempted to get a three generation Mother’s Day picture, we got totally photobombed by the dog.
See my mom’s bandages? Gruesome injury – mowing the lawn is verboten for her from now on. I only snickered twice watching her use a walker. Poor thing was also visually assaulted by the card my sister and I gave her for Mother’s Day.
(see, there are worse things than having me for a kid!)
And that night… it was Itty Bit’s last of being 6-years old.
Through the insanity of the non-stop events that week, he found my reset button.
“Mommy? Will you lay down with me for awhile?”
I was treated to his subtle response when I agreed.
In my mind, I thought, "just a few minutes… so much to do…”
And then he reminded me why he is the king of unexpected comedy.
“Mommy, I’m totally gonna fire a missile at you! Guess from where?!?!”
And then he flipped himself back over and laughed so hard his whole body shook.
His whole almost-7-year-old silly boy body.
I gasped in mock horror, snorted and laughed, and pulled him into a hug.
His head still smelled like Baby Johnson’s shampoo (his feet were a different matter entirely), and I laid there for a long time with my thoughts.
Every few moments, he’d lift his head, look silently at me, and smile a huge grin.
My to-do list was pushed exactly where it belonged. My mind went back fourteen years to the beginning of long years of infertility. And seven years of prayers that finally stopped because they were too sad to keep praying.
And I realized that we’d come full circle – seven years with this precious miracle boy.
In a life that I never would have imagined back then, my heart is full of a family that is bursting at the seams with blessings.
And he, this crazy, hilarious, thoughtful, rambunctious comedian of mine, is an irreplaceable part of it.
He was the reason for starting this blog – so I thank you for sticking with us through it. And with much reluctance, I realize that he is not so Itty Bit anymore. May I introduce you to our 7-year old Boogadacious?
(I kid you not. He prefers the full name and is called this in real life)
Happy Birthday Boogie. Love you to the moon and back.