My Boy

This is my baby boy. Tomorrow marks 8 years of my heart literally, outside my body and walking around of it's own accord. Dangerous stuff, this freedom we (as Mothers) are required to allow our own organs.

He'll be 8. To him, that's an entire lifetime. Ages & Ages. While to me, it's nothing. I just found out I was pregnant with him. Remember? No? Hmmm. Well, it felt like it was just a moment ago.
When he was born, my first baby was still a baby. I thought I had it under control. Looking back, I realize just how difficult those first years were. Their Father, while wonderful now, wasn't around then. He umm. Well, he spent some time in prison. And, while he's changed his life (for the most part)and is wonderful now...back in 2000, I was a 21 year old single Mother of 2. I worked nights at a bar so that I was with my children during the day and their Grandparents could watch them while I wasn't there. I'd pick them up at 3 or 4 AM and take them home where we'd all get in my bed and snuggle till cartoons were over around 10.
Like I said, totally under control. That is, until I got pregnant with Turkey #3 and realized that I have very little memory of Turkey #2's pregnancy, infancy, or toddler hood. I don't remember his first steps. I don't remember how long I breastfed him for sure, (only that I stopped after a month or two because he was lactose intolerant and I have weight issues that require massive amounts of dairy.) I don't remember his first words, or the first time he said "Mama."
Chalk it up to pure exhaustion.

There's no doubt that I love that little guy more than life itself. He's an easy kid. He's a great kid. He's also a bit of a genius.
Because we've moved around so much in the past year, I'm not sure what level he's actually reading at right now, (still waiting on testing results from the beginning of the school year...C'mon Folks!) but at the end of last year he was at the highest reading level for the military elementary school they attended. He's scoring 100's on Turkey #1's math tests (online tutoring, the tests can be taken as many times as we want) She's in 4th grade, and we've never taught multiplication to him. I explained the concept to him, and he gets it. Last week he was taking a division test, and missed 2 out of 30 questions. He, very matter of fact, told me that the test was wrong, that the right answer wasn't a choice and that's why he'd had to pick the closest. To be honest, I figured he'd gotten the answers wrong and didn't want to admit it, but we checked anyway. (OK, the calculator on my computer checked. Hmph!)
He was right. Here's the kicker. He's in 2nd grade. They haven't done division. He only took the test to see if he could figure it out. Granted, we're not talking long complicated division here. Easy stuff such as 36 divided by 6, but still. What the hell? So, like I said, the kid is a genius.

No matter what happens, I have my kids. On the bad days, when I'm afraid that I can't deal with life's punches anymore...they're there to remind me to suck it up. I'm very fortunate to have kids that rock. That don't cause trouble, talk back, or set the house on fire.
So ya. Tomorrow the boy turns 8. He wants pizza and a yogurt marmalade cake.

And, you can bet your bottom dollar he's gonna get it.