Now We Are Six
I had just begun.
When I was two,
I was nearly new.
When I was three,
I was hardly me.
When I was four,
I was not much more.
When I was five,
I was just alive.
But now I am six,
I'm as clever as clever.
So I think I'll be six
now and forever.
Tomorrow is Father's day, my own mother's birthday and the day my one and only child will turn 6. Kindergarten is over. Summer is on and it's on.
Another year has passed and to m dear son, I just love you. Being your mom is a proud occupation. Your tenacity, your vocabulary and your innocent insights catch my breath.
Six months ago, I sat with you at the kitchen table. I had just given you a haircut you hated. You were crying and you said through agonized tears, "Mom, I just look ridiculous." Instead of feeling bad for you about the haircut that didn't look half bad to me, I was proud you used ridiculous perfectly in a sentence, and with feeling. Sorry about the haircut. I never said I had any training. I just said I would Try to make it look like Harry Potter.
Then there was that other day when we were riding bikes and we were headed down Fir Street from Cotton Auditorium towards Main Street and you forgot how to use the foot breaks so instead of slowing, you were free-wheeling down the hill. Had I not been on my bike myself I would have jumped in front and caught you. Instead I sped up and cleared the corner with my own body to make sure no cars were coming before you buzzed through the intersection and crashed onto the Mortuary lawn. I was so happy you were not hurt, I laughed. You were wounded not because you crashed- that lawn is perfect- but because you thought I was laughing at you. It was deranged laughter of a narrow escape from harms way. Hard to explain. Maybe it will make sense later.
Your friends are more important to you now. When I dropped you off at school these past few weeks, few were the 2 kisses and a hug ritual we typically had to do at every goodbye. Mostly now I hear, "Bye, Mom!" over your shoulder as you run off to play with your buddies.
More words I will say to you later in person. This online archive is something fun people will read maybe and remember when their own kid was 6 or when they were 6 and their mom did all the wrong stuff and gave them ridiculous haircuts and laughed at them when they crashed on their bike.
Suffice to say, I am glad we can play. I am blessed to be your mom and am so excited for another epic summer with you. All my love, Mamam.