He is four.
The half is important. Never forget the half.
I am watching him watch television.
He laughs. I never want to forget his four-and-a-half laugh.
It cackles. It delights.
He is bright.
He catches me and gives me a wink.
Cheeky boy, I think.
I think about him all the time.
When did he get so big?
He started elementary school this year.
There’s been joy. There’s been adjustment. There’s been fear.
Fear of me not being there. Fear of letting go.
Fear of not fitting in. Fear of social woe.
Fear of hurricanes. Fear of floods from open skies.
Fear of scary stuff. Fear of bad guys.
The Green Power Ranger…
He put him at the foot of my bed one night to protect me from bad guys.
But the bad guys he knows aren’t the ones I think about,
The ones I worry about –
the ones who bully, harm, and shoot.
I worry about him all the time.
When you have kids, they really don’t warn you enough about the worrying.
How, even when you try your hardest to push bad thoughts behind,
From time to time, the “mights” creep through your mind.
Mine are the people who might harm my kid,
The ways he might veer off track,
The ways I might fail my child,
The things that can’t be taken back.
So I pray.
I pray for him all the time.
To God. To the stars. To fate.
Please keep him safe. Please treat him well.
Please don’t let him be a warning story they tell,
Of the kid in the wrong place, of the kid at the wrong time,
Of the kid who was broken down, or of the kid who wasn’t kind.
And when I am not beside him,
please let him recognize that he is loved.
Let him know in every moment,
With every fiber of his being that he is loved
From his freckled nose to his dirty, little toes.
And let him live with love, and treat others with love,
And just love.
A mother’s mind…
A mother’s mind is a busy place.
I love being a mom,
but I do not love worrying like one.