64 Months

Goose,

So, you got the chickenpox this month.  How the hell you did is absolutely beyond me.  You got the vaccine a good year and a half ago.  No one gets the chickenpox anymore.  Hell, I didn't even notice at first.  Gammy noticed in the morning when she stopped by on her way to work.  "Hey Kate, have you seen these red spots?"  There were about 3 on your back.  Nope.  Bug bites?  And off to school you went!  Then you had a play date with Patrick and you had so much fun you both were wrestling on the floor when you hugged goodbye.  When I got you in the bath, your spots had multiplied and I got concerned enough to bring you to Dr Greg.  We had been working in the garden the day before.  Maybe you got something there?  After a longish visit with a magnifying glass, we got the oatmeal bath diagnosis.  It was a very mild case because of the vaccine.  But, who knew?  All the mothers at your school wanted to examine you in case their kids got it.  And yes, you loved the oatmeal and all the Wii playing.

You also had your kindergarten orientation.  You were pretty appalled that you had to go back to pre-school after your big trip to your new school.  You were acting all tough and grown up.  It was kind of hysterical.  You held my hand for about five minutes until you got your name tag and noticed our neighbor Gwen and your friend Gregor. There are 2 kids you will ride the bus with on our block, Gwen and Ryan.  You were a little concerned that on your test bus ride that you didn't get to ride with your neighbor friends. But I assured you that it wouldn't be the case for the rest of the year.  During your teacher conference, they told me how independent and well adjusted you are.  I believed them whole heartedly but this was extremely evident on orientation day.  It amazes me all the time how much you still need me and at how much you don't.  You can walk into any situation and feel comfortable in 5 minutes. But you still get "wonwely" at night and want to snuggle.  You stand on chairs and help yourself to things in our cabinets.  But you still want to kiss and hug me before we leave each other.  Its comforting that you still look to me for reassurance before you leap but it is also a little worrying and thrilling to know that one day soon, you're not going to look anymore.

You got to march in the Memorial Day parade with your baseball team.  Evidently, the rest of your team thought this was pretty lame because it was only you and William that showed up.  There were plenty of other kids but you were the only Diamondbacks.  We all got there early to make sure we had a good spot and screamed our heads off when you walked past.  It was adorable how the four of you were holding hands; Chris, William, you and Pa.  As soon as you saw us, you decided that you were done marching and wanted to watch the rest.  It was your big debut!  After years of begging to get out of the parade when marching with the band, it was refreshing seeing how exciting it can be for the first time.  Most of all seeing Pa's face.  He was so proud being the one marching next to you.

Dad finally made it home from his year long tour in Afghanistan.  You really didn't have much contact so I was curious to see how the whole thing was going to pan out.  When I first told you that Dad was in Texas you insisted he wasn't because you thought I was talking about Pa.  It took you a while to make the connection but once you did you got pretty excited.  You wanted to show Dad our new house and what you have been doing.  I think this whole coming and going has become a normalcy to you.  You enjoy spending time with Dad when he's here and don't ask for his when he's gone.  I sincerely hope that you have some great times together while he is home.

This might be something for an entire other blog post.  A dear friend of mine from college suddenly past away at the end of April.  You were with me the night I found out, and I think, saw me completely break down for the first rememberable moment in your life.  I broke down in hysterics and left the room.  You were so concerned and asked me several times that week if everything was ok.  I tried to explain the loss I was feeling without freaking you out.  It was hard.  Made harder that you were so concerned for me.  You couldn't understand why I was unmotivated and listless peppered with bouts of violently ripping out weeds from the garden.  "You know when you feel not so good and lazy sometimes?  I'm giving you a hug for that." I still am sad, sometimes, when I least expect it.  I'll catch myself just drifting off, lost in memories.  I know that loss is a part of life.  I just hope that I can be as comforting to you as you were to me.

I love you always and everyday my sweet boy.
Momma