Friday, April 4, 2008

When he sleeps.


This boy is straight up life. He was created by the sheer will power to exist. He wakes with the sun and percolates with energy that I can only dream of. If he were to bare a tattoo it would read "I get to be whatever I want." As 'whatever he wants' tends to be his personal mantra. He is kind, funny, witty and trying. After he was born, my hair started to turn grey. I am convinced there is a connection. There are days that I can feel it turning grey and they directly correspond to how many times I have to say his name.

He has two volumes. Loud and earsplitting. He has two speeds. Running and sudden stops. He loves with all his heart, plays with all his might, is so passionate that sometimes I already sweat the impending adolescence. His favorite music is metal (how did that happen?) All loud screeching guitars and intense drum beats. You should see him rock out to "Chop Suey" by SOAD. Though the song most dear to his heart is "Authority Song" but this is because I used to sing to him as a baby "you fight authority, but authority always wins." Which was my wishful thinking as the current figure of authority in his world. He fights authority. Something in him has to.

He is a tiny little thing. A brilliant mite of dynamic strength and energy. He swings a nerf sword like a ninja reincarnated. He has a soldier's spirit but a gentle heart. He drives me crazy, he makes me proud, he completes my motherhood, he is my image double. And when that vast amount of energy burns down and he crashes into a warm heap of sleeping boy, I can't stop staring at his soft cheeks - still rounded in toddler curves, the long lashes, his calm breathing. Total surrender to dreams and a mother's arms when he succumbs to a random nap. When he sleeps I get to pause and feel the love for this little embodiment of wildness overpower me. When he sleeps the quiet shows me how intensely his life burns and fills my days with vivid color and noise. And every time he sleeps and I take the time to notice these things, I get a little bit tearful and sloppily grateful for the bipolarity that is motherhood.

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