i will get back to my mother’s birthday – post – really – before the end of the year
i will also respond to the lovely creative blog award that three of you gave me – thanks! really really really thank you! i know you know how much having you in my life has uplifted me and made everything more wonderful- and i so appreciate it
i will also ‘attend’ Liz’s blog shower (held a week ago – i need these to be on weekends) and i will ‘finish answering the quizes on evelyn’s – not out of duty but because they were creative and i really liked them…i will figure out why lately every time i post a comment on Rebekah’s blog it gives me this long list of words and then i cannot do anything but close the window – Rebekah – i’ve done my best writing in my comments on your blog and now it’s all lost – ah well…
but i cannot do all of this now and i need to make a note on our place, where we are, my son and i
he is seven. indescribible. he’s been thinking about his new sibling. younger sibling. share his room sibling. “mom, if it’s a girl. well. i’m concerned.” “uh, huh. why?” I try not to role my eyes when i say this. it takes serious effort, because i can tell by his tone the nature of his question. “well. pink. i really have a hard time with the color pink. i hate the color pink. and if my room is going to have pink all over it…(here he begins to shake his head back and forth as he is looking in the mirror at himself, which he has been doing for 6 days straight since he bought a knit hat with a brim which he thinks makes him look like a jamaican regae musician and a snowboarder…)”
I don’t say anything, i just look at him, appreciating for once that his discussion of his younger sibling is light hearted. Finally, realizing i’m looking at him he turns away from his own image in the mirror to look at me, his brown eyes twinkle in a way that reminds me of my blue eyed grandfather, and then slowly and with such beauty that i am torn open by it, he smiles at me and turns back to the mirror.
A couple of nights ago we were in bed and i was reading the history of the presidents when he interrupts me to ask how babies learn to speak. ‘oh they just learn, the hear it and they remember and that’s it.’ (lame, but i’m exhausted at 8 PM after a full days work and really that was about all my brain was producing.) ‘well, when my baby brother comes i don’t want to have to be the one to teach him all the words. all that repeating is going to get REALLY annoying!’ and then he adds in a very exageratedly long and drawn out way “yes, yes, yes, no, no, no, ball, ball, ball.” Holding back the laughter i say to him “oh no honey we don’t have to repeat everything like that, it’s not like learning your spelling words (i suddenly realize where he is getting this idea) babies and children learn language naturally. i say, ‘are you thirsty? here is a cup of juice.’ and little by little they learn the word juice, and then thirsty and then here is. they learn from watching and seeing and doing. it happens and it happens pretty quickly (and then i realize something else) not like mommy trying to learn amharic. not like that at all.” he looks at me calmly, then smiles a bit and says while taking in a great big breath and letting it out very slowly “oh good. that’s a relief.”
last night shortly after i got home Q followed me upstairs as i went into my room to change clothes. he stood there in my room and said “mom, i want to give you a high five!” and then he did, big in the air high five! “i want to give you a high five for going to work on a snow day even when you don’t really want to. i’ll give you a high five every day you do that!”
Thanks babe!
yesterday was a big day for him. he hopped onto our bed and started to tell me about it. his class has about 10 children of african descent, who are americans, english, carribean and african. but he’s the only one who knows of and celebrates kwanzaa. his teacher asked if he would help teach the kwanzaa lesson. he was thrilled. he brought in the kinara he and i made when he was three years old and he stood up in class and told them everything he knew. he came home with three photos that were taken of him with the student teacher teaching the class and a thank you note from the teacher and the student teacher telling him how wonderful it was for everyone in his class that they were taught by someone who had real life experience. it was lovely. he’s was elated. ‘when i grow up if my other career plans don’t work out (they include professional football player, professional snowboarder and rock star drummer) then i think i would like to be a teacher.” he then asks how much school it would take and when he hears he thinks he be able to skip it because he’s already pretty good. seriously. and then he looks at me and asks “mom, if you could do something else as far as work, what would it be? what other career would you like?” i think seriously for a moment over the two or three others that i would love to pursue if….and then i reply “writer. i would love to write.” “what do you mean, mom, books? you would like to write a book?” “yes,” i said “a book.” “So why don’t you go to college and be a writer?” “well, i would have to quit my job and i need to work to help pay for the house and the food and our clothes.” He thinks, leaning back on the pillow propped up on the headboard. Finally he says “Nope.. No you don’t need to work. I’ve got $200 in the bank…i think right? $200 and now $100 dollars in my bank and that’s $300 and i’ll give it all to you for the bills and you can quit and go to college and be a writer like you want.” “Thanks honey, but i want you to keep your money right now. i like my job and i’m not sure i want to go to school right now.” “ok, but if you change your mind, i’ll give you my money.”
this morning i heard him tossing and turning and got into bed with him before i went to take a shower. we cuddled for a little bit and then out of the darkness i heard “mom, if you write a book, what would it be about and what would you call it? what would it’s title be?’ “Wow, Q what a great question. let me think. i guess i would write about traveling and i would call it ‘early dawn new city’ ” “that’s nice mom i like that”
Thanks sweetie thanks.

