Nonstop

Sorry for the dearth of pictures. I will make amends soon.

It all is, you know?

Summer and weekends and laundry and dishes, festivals and car rides and the mess in the playroom, flowers blooming and all the mosquitoes and my kids growing up every minute before my eyes.

Nonstop.

I'd like to press pause sometimes so I could just sit back and sift through it all, savor the good moments and write it all down. Freeze time and admire the light in my daughter's hair, my son's one-dimple smile, the faces alight with giggles as they tumble (one-second-from-disaster) together on the bed. I'd like to have a magial tape-recorder that would capture each and every funny phrase that comes out of the boy's mouth, share it on Facebook, then engrave it into my heart. I want to spend hours admiring the snuggled weight and softness of a sleeping babe in my arms, without feeling one twinge of "but I should really" as I rock her.

I'd like all that very much, thank you. I don't want to miss out on a second of the living, the doing, the busy rush of fun and work and the satisfaction of filling my days-- I just want some extra time on the side, too.

We are hurtling along toward my firstborn's FOURTH birthday. How that is possible, I cannot tell you. One week from tomorrow we'll have a party, with Hotwheels galore and twin-racing tracks with tunnels and lots of chocolate frosting for a boy to lick off of cupcakes. We'll fill the yard with 10-plus little people and their mommies and daddies and, if all goes well, our home will be full of friends til long after dark. It will be one of the best days of the year. As it should be, to celebrate that long long day, 4 years ago, when this little-big boy made me a mommy.

In the meantime we have Greek Festivals and Canine Fun Days and a lot of stressing out about the start of school; a first week of teaching to survive; nonstop life to keep up with. There's a lot of living to be done in the next 7 days.

But what I want to do, what I meant to do when I started writing tonight, is to step out of the living for a moment and try to hold on to my children as they are, right now, before this nonstop life grows them up anymore.

Jack.
The Jackman, Jackie, Jackie bear. The Boy. Twinkle eyes and ornery-ness and skinny legs and ribs, tan back and arms and hair that likes to stand up in the back. Emotional and enthusiastic, he is all elbows and knees when he runs or dances or hugs. He likes to put off bedtime and put off leaving and put off coming home. He likes to say "No" first. He likes to change his mind. He doesn't love mealtimes but he will always eat chocolate, hot dogs, or shredded cheese.

Loves his Hotwheels, with their ever-creative names: Red Car, Yellow Car, Silver Car, Snoofie-Snoofie-nee. Loves Dinosaur Train and Wordworld and SuperWhy and documentaries on giant fish or bugs or sharks. Likes to make his cars fly and fight and fall; likes to wrestle and roughhouse and build forts and knock things down.

Yep. He's a boy.

He's still deliberate, sometimes. Sometimes there's that baby boy, the little buddha, who would sit and examine his own hands or a spot on the floor. He still notices little things and little changes, questions any incongruity and seeks to explain and categorize and order his world. Then moments later he's running in circles yelling jibberish and giggling.

Yep, he's almost 4.

Oh how I wish I could tell you right now some of the things he's said today to make me smile. That nonstop life, gets in the way of remembering it, every time. I shall make that a goal this weekend, to capture some of his words. He's such a talker, he knows so much; some of the things he says are so astute, so surprising, so true. His syntax is so wonderful in its imperfection and I am in love with his soft "l" sounds... "There are some si- wohs, we must be close to Far-weey's!" despite the fact that they make him hard to understand sometimes. And he can't stand it when we don't understand him. He's not big on patience right now, bossy little man who talks back and demands and then wins us over again in a heartbeat when he finally remembers that "please" and that smile. That smile. That dimple that sneaks out when he tries to pout so there's no hiding when he's faking the grumpies.

He's not always faking, though. He needs his warm-up time, our boy. Naps are starting to go by the wayside and when he does fall asleep, in the car or after an hour of playing in his room, the wake-up is a long and difficult process. He watches and waits in any new situation and almost always warms up and jumps in (with enthusiasm!) if he just has enough time. The emotions only flare when we try to rush him in, in OUR enthusiasm that he participate, have fun, get in there and DO it. We must try to learn patience along with him. Because of course he's inherited my perfectionism. Gets so frustrated with himself when he can't draw like us, can't reach something, can't do anything right away. He holds back, says wrong answers on purpose, changes the subject or leaves the activity, anytime he feels like he might not know something, might not be perfect at it, right away.

( Note to my parents: Sound familiar? I don't know how you put up with me, I really don't.)

We are learning (slowly) to just back off. To just wait. To let him struggle with his own demons and do things when he's ready. Because he always does. A switch with flip and there he'll be. Walking. Running. Riding that bike. Writing his name (all except for the K, at least). Amazing us every day with the things he'd soaked up and learned just from being in the world.

Something wonderful he's been learning just recently is compassion. He's coming into his own as a big brother and he's starting to show concern for all of us, going out of his way to help (whether or not that help is appreciated by his sister), asking what's wrong when people are sad, making the most generous and thoughtful statements when you least expect them. "When I'm at my party I'll give all the ribbons to my friends and just have the last one for me." It's wonderful to see him becoming kind.

Happy and Kind. That's what I hope and pray my children grow up to be.

I think the Boy is on the right track.

Tune in for notes on Ivy later this weekend. Nonstop life has taken me an hour close to bedtime and I've got to be ready to meet this weekend head-on. Sleep well, friends.