The boy is 7 today.

My how times have changed, my how he has changed me – but I yet have much to learn. Many fantasies to dismiss and replace with the reality of being an imperfect parent who couldn't love their child more.
I didn't even think to blog for his birthday... actually, I sat down to write about the fact that 5 of our 6 students will be gone in 8 weeks and Jarod will have started his own business. I was thinking of the future, of the “what next?” Of next month, next week – the spring break trip to Santa Fe, and the Special Olympics tournament of tomorrow. I was thinking of the yesterday – the knee surgery of my mother, the party for Jude's class, and the design projects that sucked my winter. And then – I thought of today. Oh – if I would learn to live in the present – to love the present – wrapped in mundane intensity.
The present of fiber pop tarts that we discovered on a HUGE sale – laughed over and love.
The present of midnight shuffles to the bathroom – both of us desperate to keep sheets dry.
The present of loosing the camera more days of the month than not - and finding it with half-headed photos all through.
The present of the screaming of the “sponge bob square pants” theme songs from the too-long bath.
The present of “skill sets” I am not sure I am proud of.
The present of quite and quick prayers of sincerity.
The present of long conversations about “sexy” and “evolution” - even if they are to stave off bed time.
The present of i-pod obsessions, matched only by a desire to be read to.
The present of being clad in ONLY sweatpants for months on end. We must have 7 pair.
The present of stating his sister's “awkwardness” - with such pride in her individuality.
The present of him learning to ride his bike and tie his shoes and loose a tooth – all in HIS time.
The present of loving Asli's rice, the night time carrot, and only a few other foods without sugar.
The present of sincere gratitude for the clothesline on which to hang his art work.
The present of gum ball math, AR, and “red strips” - that are the first grade class he shares with us.
The present of a house filled with little feet that I can feel growing even as they run the loop past my office door.


The present of him – right now. My children give me such wonderful gifts each day... I think I can spring for that 3 pack of A-shirts he requested.



My men - after an early morning of hauling wood - we got some donuts before school. I'm pretty sure he went to school with that chocolate on his face.