My Kid

You are beautiful. Inside...outside...everything-in-between side. As your sixth tooth fell out this morning, my heart started accepting the fact that you're really not a little kid anymore. Somewhere in the business of life, you dropped the 'little' and started encompassing the 'kid'. I get it now. I get that soon you'll be a big kid...and sooner you'll be a tween...and soonest you'll be a teenager.

But, for today, you're a kid.

My kid.

I love this you. This starting-to-understand-real-life you. You approached me this morning while I was in a meeting and quietly waited by my side until I finished what I was saying to the other ladies around the table. "Excuse me," you said, "may I have a chip?" I didn't realize you had been listening the thousands of times I asked you not to interrupt me...

We went shopping the other day, and I sincerely took your fashion advice. You had adult-like reasons for your choices...and, besides, I think we both have just as much sense as the other when it comes to fashion. I had fun, McKenzie. Real fun with you.

But, by far, the experience that has touched me the most about your personality lately was watching your pure, innocent joy as your brother learned to ride his two-wheeler bike. Not 24 hours after you took your own training wheels off, you were right by Carson's side with praise and encouragement. I watched with mild discomfort as the neighbors gushed over Carson's accomplishment in your presence - worried that you would feel the thunder behind your own accomplishment stolen away. But you never hung your head. You never looked angry. Instead of feeling jealous, you felt pride and happiness for your little brother. Days later, I watched you run to a friend and exclaim, "Guess what my brother can do?!"... and it touched me to tears. Well, Kenz...you worked hard to be able to ride on two wheels, too! I'm proud of you for that. But I'm mostly proud of you for the heartfelt support you gave your brother in what could have been a frustrating time for you.


This may be the best phase (though I admittedly say that about every new phase you enter). Your independence is strengthening, your mind is hungering for and swelling with knowledge, your greatest desire is to make me happy, you delight in the time we spend together. We play house (even though I mostly insist on being the maid who needs to get the dishes done), and learn the piano together. We paint our fingernails and toenails while listening to Junie B. Jones in the CD player. And when I laugh at a funny part, that makes you laugh even harder. There are moments of calm sadness when I think of the cute little snippets of you that have been left behind...but I genuinely relish in your growth.

I am so proud of who you are.

Anyone else see a resemblance?

I think he fits right in.....

I can't find it...

...but it's there. It's certainly there. Making itself known every time I step into the entryway; greeting every visitor who comes inside.

The smell.

The smell of death and dying and decomposing and disgusting.

I can't find it...but it's there.

I spent two hours (two hours) yesterday moving couches, tearing apart closets, emptying baskets, pulling up rugs, washing fabric. And it's still...THERE!

What IS it? WHERE is it? Brian says the crawl-space is clear and free from any rotting carcasses; it doesn't seem to be coming in through the vents; that leaves the attic...something might be dead up there - - - but we can't get up there without a long ladder, which we don't have. And then, what if that ends up being clear? What's the next step? Ripping down the walls?

Oh dear.

My olfactory system and I are not happy right now. *sniff*

Any ideas?

Becoming the Man

I watch you. A lot, actually - like, every minute of almost every day. But sometimes, I just sit back and watch you. We're buddies, and I am your favorite person in the whole world. You look to me for protection, for nourishment, for laughter. For clean clothes and companionship. For extra quarters to buy gum and remote-smarts to turn on Tom and Jerry.

You live in the world of a boy - dirty much of the time, running, playing, building, jumping, jumping, jumping, skipping and pushing your trains along in front of you. I wish you could stay here forever. By my side. Holding my hand as we cross the street. Sitting on my lap through your favorite stories. Laughing at my pretty lame jokes. I love being your world.

But, if you stayed here, you'd never see the other world - the world of a man. Of using the potty every time you need to go; of thinking rationally and controlling the urge to tantrum. Of sacrificing your own happiness for the happiness of another. Of working hard to make yourself succeed. Of feeling the love in your heart that only your own little baby can bring. I love thinking of you in that world.

And, little by little I see it happening. Flakes of little boy blowing away in the breeze, slowly revealing the man inside. The man you will become.