Ten Minutes to Midnight
Six years ago, I was a week over due, swigging juice and trying to calm my heart as I lay with my hands pressed to my giant belly. My baby was quiet, and I was beginning to panic. After calling the hospital and calling home my husband, I waited to feel any movements. The moment my mother arrived to care for my 17 month old daughter, the baby started kicking and flailing again. I was relieved, but determined to go ahead with the well-check at the hospital.
My son arrived at ten minutes to midnight, six years ago. He immediately revealed his powerful, earsplitting cry, and I looked at my husband in shock. Where did this cheetah-sounding baby come from? I ordered a serene baby. This child was peeling the paint off the walls.
He's always been a mellow child, except when he isn't. He has two settings - peaceful and SONIC DEATH RAY OF DOOM. He balances between two fiery sisters, holding his own with a combination of fortitude and humor.
He likes what he likes, and is generous in his praise and admiration. Just this morning, as I tried to make my hair lay down outside the grocery store, he beamed at me. I muttered "I look like a refugee," and he gently touched my arm and said "even if you look like a refugee, you are still the most beautiful mommy to me."
At the age of six, I think I can safely say that this son of mine has been silent for a total of 6 hours in his entire life. He talks. And explains. And tells people about things. He speaks in continuous, run-on sentences, often changing subjects without taking a breath. From the moment his eyes pop open in the morning, he begins to talk. The sound of his Elmer Fudd accent breaking down the differences in the stegosaurid family of dinosaurs is the soundtrack of my day.
He's still all about dinosaurs. There is nothing else that holds a candle to the repilian giants in his world. He's almost apologetic about it. My parents and sister tried to interest him in new toys in four different toy shops, and all he could decide on were plastic dinosaurs. He loves them with the fire of a thousand suns.
We had a tough time last year. He's always been emotional and it seemed to hit a frenzied pitch as he adapted to kindergarten. We struggled to help him - he wears his heart on his sleeve, and he is a perfectionist in a family of chaotic thinkers. His frustration with his learning curve caused him to erupt in anger many times. He would sob in my arms, ranting about the fact that his drawing didn't look the way he imagined when he started, or the tower he was building collapsed after the tenth block was added, and I would murmur cliches and stroke his hair, over and over.
For all his utter boy-ness, he is my sweetest child. He loves to snuggle and melts if you rub his head. He adores his sisters. Although they squabble, it is still common to find all three of them sitting on one couch cushion, peacefully. His patience with his younger sister is remarkable - long after I've lost patience with her need to cling like a monkey, I'll find him sitting close enough so that she can rub his ear while she sucks her thumb. They are close in a way that brings tears to my eyes.
As we turn the corner into his sixth year, I'm aware of a new sense of confidence, a strength of purpose that he didn't display before. He is enjoying school, and is enjoying spending time with his peers. He's moving away from little boy land, and becoming a big boy before my eyes. It is wonderful.
Yet, every night, as we curl up and read one of his many dinosaur stories, he lays his cheek against my cool upper arm, and he melts into me. We breathe in tandem, and I can sense that moment when his need to sleep overrides his will to stay awake. At that moment, he is my baby, and I'm transported back to that moment when I first held him in my arms, six years ago, at ten minutes to midnight.
Comments
Your son sounds exactly like mine. He is a unique individual to say the least. :)
Posted by: Maria P. | September 5, 2006 2:53 PM
Awww! Happy Birthday, K. Lots of kisses on your sweet face, you fabulous kid, you.
Posted by: Elaine | September 5, 2006 4:55 PM
They will always be our babies, no matter how big they get! Beautifully written, Jenny.
Posted by: Elizabeth | September 5, 2006 5:26 PM
ahhhh, his sweet hugs and promises to love us forever...these things live in the center of our hearts! This special love bug is the joy of his Grandparents. With every million words he speaks, he captures the essence of child intellegence and wonder. How blessed we all are, that he is here for all of us to enjoy and treasure. Here's to his Mom, our second child and daughter, who has given this child her inner best and the permission to be so dear! Happy Birthday to you both! XOXO Grandma and Grandpa
Posted by: mommybommie | September 5, 2006 6:31 PM
Your little man sounds very much like my little man, who will be 7 at the end of this year! I can hardly believe how much he's grown - both physically and mentally. He was speaking in full sentences by the time he was 18 months old (I kid you not!) and hasn't stopped. His latest "and guess what" is going to send me over the edge, but I love him for allowing me an opportunity to 'guess what' before he explodes into his story, with arm gestures and facial expressions that force me to hide my giggles :) Little boys truly do hold their mommy's hearts in their hands, don't they?
This post was beautifully written, Jenny! Happy Birthday, sweet boy!
Posted by: Jennifer | September 5, 2006 8:06 PM
So beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing.
Happy Birthday Little Man!
Posted by: Whimspiration | September 5, 2006 8:08 PM
This was very powerful and brought tears to my eyes. He sounds wonderful, and so do you. Kids are great, when they're not torturing us.
Posted by: molly | September 5, 2006 8:25 PM
That was a really beautiful post. This puts into words some of the things I feel about my own children.
Happy Birthday!
Posted by: Heather | September 5, 2006 8:51 PM
Happy birthday Big guy!!
Posted by: Stacey | September 5, 2006 11:16 PM
What a beautiful tribute! You really need to get an agent and make some $$ writing.
Posted by: Stephanie C. | September 6, 2006 12:13 AM
Dang it! Now why did you have to make me go and cry this morning??
Your son sounds so much like mine, who will be five soon. However frustrated I become with him during the day, all is forgiven at bedtime when he insists that I (and no one else)lie down with him. He'll curl up in my lap, even though he is quickly becoming too tall and heavy. I'm rushing off to hug him and kiss him!
Happy birthday to your son, and congratulations to you!!
Posted by: Melissa Garrett | September 6, 2006 5:21 AM
That brought back all kinds of memories from the days when my little guy was indeed... little! Funny the things you think you have forgotten are not forgotten at all. They have just been placed in a special place in your heart!
:)
Posted by: sp @ weary parent | September 6, 2006 9:35 AM
Jenny, That was sooo beautiful!
You totally have me balling here.
You are an awesome writer and mama!
Happy birthday to K.
Posted by: Maria | September 6, 2006 10:54 PM
How sweet - I kept thinking - he sounds just like my almost 5 yr old. Then I'd think - no he sounds like my almost 7 yr old. So - really he sounds like a combination of my boys. Happy birthday to him and a happy day to you!
Posted by: maria | September 7, 2006 12:50 PM
Awwww. Great remembrance.
And our sons sound so much alike! Mine is either laughing or screaming. And did you know that needing your juice cup filled is a reason to sob hysterically? Well, it is.
Posted by: Mary Tsao | September 8, 2006 12:36 PM