Established 2007

During our “on the road” school this afternoon (a variation that sometimes becomes handy or necessary in our homeschool experience), the littles and I were discussing William Shakespeare.  Our Princess has read an adapted version of “Midsummer’s Night Dream” and she LOVED it.  When I reminded her of that, Cooter asked, “What about ‘MacBeth?'”

Wait.  What?

Apparently he heard about the play on a Disney channel show.  (Score one for the network that has caused me great frustration from time to time.)

We talked about how he would probably like it, what will all the intrigue and drama and oh, you know, witches in it.
“Witches?” he asked.

“Yes, it starts off, if I’m remembering correctly, with the witches gathered round–and at some point they chant, ‘Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble.'”

Cooter started laughing so hard I thought I might have to pull over.  When he came up for air, my little guy said, “I love that line!”  “Double, double, toilet trouble!”  He almost fell over in another fit of laughter.  “Toilet trouble–now that’s some kind of bad trouble!”

And then I was laughing so hard that, as so often happens around here, all intelligent conversations fell to the wayside.

That laughter?  That healing, belly-shaking laughter?

That is only one of about a million reasons why I love my baby boy.

The baby who will turn 8 tomorrow.

IMG_6891

Happy Birthday, Cooter!

He wants real estate for his birthday. And a Lego set.

One of those we have gotten for him.

The other he’s had since the moment the doctors confirmed my suspicion that our home was about to grow by two feet.

And we’re talking prime real estate here.

He owns a piece of my heart.

And I can never evict him or take it away.

It’s his.

And each day with that smile and that laughter and the hugs and the wacky dancing he does, he owns a little bit more.

And a little bit more.

A few days ago, he started putting in his requests for his celebrations.  (Yes, plural–we tend to celebrate birthday weeks and sometimes months around here.)  As he’d ask to do something rather outlandish, he’d cock his head and grin that grin and say, “How are you going to say ‘no’ to me?  After all, it IS my birthday.”

Ha.  Another reason I love him.  He knows.  He knows my heart.  But I also know he wasn’t surprised when I stood strong and said, “No.”  One more time.  Because that’s another way I show him I love him.

He was just as excited about getting his sisters and cousin “presents” for his birthday as he was in picking out what to put on his wish list.  Another reason.   His sweet heart.

He has recently started talking in grammar.  He walks around saying, “Mama, can I have a piece of candy question mark.”  Or, “I can’t wait for my birthday exclamation point.”  He is such a character, and he keeps me on my toes.  And laughing.  Did I mention the laughter?

The day after his big sister returned to college, he came in from out by the fire pit all excited.  “Mama, look at what I found! Look at it!”  And then he looked at the hand he held out to me and frowned.  “Oh.  I lost it.”  He was sad, I could tell.  “I found one of Baba’s hairs on a chair in the yard, but now I’ve lost it.”  He really loves his sisters, the big one and the one who is his play buddy and nemesis, sometimes both within the span of an hour. Another reason.

Recently he told me couldn’t wait for me to leave.  Without him.  Knowing him (or should I say, getting to know him) as I do, I decided to ask why, instead of letting my feelings be hurt.  “Well, if you leave me here, I can make plans for anyone who might want to break in.  And I can keep them out!”  Ah.  Yes.  Have I mentioned that “Home Alone” has become one of his favorite movies?

This boy, whose existence has opened my eyes to all kinds of things I never noticed before, is turning eight.

Amazing.

Tonight I’m thankful.

For the joy.  The laughter.  That smile.  Those little hands that started off wrapping around my finger and now do such amazing things.  Like write words and build fantastic Lego creations of his own imaginings.  And hold my  heart.

Always.

Happy Birthday, baby boy!

Love to all.  Go laugh and party on.  Hope it’s that kind of day for you too.

 

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Thanks to Cooter’s big sister for the graphic.  At the last minute.  Having her Mama’s back.  As usual.  ❤ 

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