Tomorrow I'm going to spend a part of the day at the bookstore with my son. The other two children will be socializing at birthday parties and such, so it'll be just me and my fifteen year old.
The other day (which was like six weeks ago), I suddenly realized that my son had become a Teenage Boy. This fact hadn't imprinted itself into my brain even though the child is over 6 feet tall and has his dad's jock build.
But then, there we were at the supermarket, and the cashier girl suddenly began acting all coy. You know that awareness that alerts us humans when we spot a potential someone? Especially when us humans are in the teen versions of ourselves? Well, this teen-girl cashier caught it right then and there.
Her eyes changed, she kept tucking her hair behind her ears (though none of it had fallen into her face) and was kind of too quick in her movements handling my cereals. When she started biting her lips periodically, I started to wonder. Then I looked at exactly what she was sneaking glances at, between scanning my yogurt and granola bars.
This? My boy? My itty-bitty child?
Yeah, and he knew it too. I could tell by the stoic, mature, yet coolly-withdrawn way he was passing the items from the grocery cart. That's when I saw the man-on-the-way emerging from the faint figure of the seven year old playing in the park that I seemed to perpetually see when I looked at him.
If it had been a movie, the soundtrack to the emotions and images in my brain would have been kiss the rain by Yiruma.
Life passes and I hadn't fully understood that I am the mother of a teen boy.
I can't wait to spend some time with him tomorrow. I want to imprint the fact that yes, he is coming into himself and I love him as he is now.
And this time, I promise to refrain from scrutinizing the cashiers. Those brash young things.
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I'm looking forward to finding Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins at the bookstore tomorrow.
One of the reasons is because she looks like this:
under my hijab, my hair says it wants to look like this. My husband was with me when I was reading about her book and when we saw the author picture, he said, I know that you're really, really going to want to read her book now. Because she's got blue hair, right?
And don't forget the red heart at her neck, I said. Then, I leaned in closer to read the blurb on her website. Plus, it says here that every room in her house is painted a different color of the rainbow.
You're just going to buy that book right up, he said, without even sighing.
(He just knows me too well, my dear hubby.)
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Visual Itch
I'm getting that itch to shake my blog up visually again. This would be the 4th time in less than a year - which is a record. My ol' blog - which I just reopened - went for 3 years with, I think, about 5 changes.
It's like changing clothes...who wants to wear the same look for-ever?
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I miss my ol' blog
I went and reread my old blog a bit and was struck by how different it was than this. I kind of like my other blogging style more. Mainly because I think I wrote a bit more intelligently mainly because I had a bit more time.
Wow, I never knew finding love again and blending families could so drastically change your life and suck all leisurely writing time out of your existence.
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One day, maybe, I will merge the blogs into one big happy blog.
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Here is a happy flower picture taken by my husband. Can you smell Spring making its way across the snowdrifts?
Neither can I, but let's try.
I can't imagine what it will be like when my little boy becomes a young man. I'm not the wistful type but I think my heart may break a little.
What a good egg you are for appreciating the diversity in others. Clearly that means you are comfortable in your own skin, even without that blue hair.
I loved this post. It was funny.
Those are beautiful flowers, and yes, I'd read Stephanie's book just because she has blue hair. That isn't shallow, right? (But, just in case it is, I've heard it's really, really awesome. And I believe the people.)
I also want to read Anna and the French Kiss. And I didn't know about her house. That's awesome.
MacDougal Street, thanks (for mentioning my good-eggness) but really, I'm kind of color-obsessed. If someone's going to coordinate themselves to be so visually artistic, I will appreciate it. (My husband laughs at this because I often don't want to know the make of a car if we're looking into one for purchasing. It's the uniqueness of the color that commands me. Yes, I is shallow.)
Remilda, I heard good things about it too. I couldn't find it in the bookstore I went to so it'll have to be ordered.
Medeia, isn't it awesome? I'm lucky that I got my husband to agree to have 3 rooms painted in 3 really diverse colors - all mexican hotness. I'm slowly working on convincing him to do the dining room coral pink to go with the white furniture, heehee.