touching

Weekday evenings are a lot busier than they used to be. Daddy J is taking classes toward another certification – which is GREAT for his career and a huge bonus that he’s in a position to be taking them – but that means I drive the dinner wagon entirely on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and sometimes on Wednesdays, too, when he gives a seminar or has a meeting or whatever. And I know there are a bazillion single parents who do that every single day (in addition to working full time) and that I have teenage minions to do my bidding, but it’s still somewhat tiring to be the only adult food service provider when there’s a two year old involved. And, of course, Daddy J’s having some extra long days with work plus difficult math-finance type graduate level classes on top of his usual schedule.

(Side note: I was thanking the big boys for their help in the kitchen and with Rainbow last night, and explaining that we all just had to step it up a bit when Daddy had a class. Rockinrolla asked me how long Daddy would be taking the classes. ‘Til October, I told him. Oh, he said, and made a squinty face. I expected him to groan about what a bummer it was to help me out for ALL THOSE MONTHS, but instead he said, Huh, well, THAT’s not that long. Just a few months. It’ll totally be worth it.)

Yeah, it will.

Anyway, after dinner I was letting Rainbow play in the backyard while I finished up the kitchen work. He loves to draw on the deck with chalk and play with the dogs. It was a beautiful, balmy night, and it was nice peeking at him through the windows as I wiped tables and put stuff away.

I walked out to get him in the backyard about 7:30, and it was pretty dark. He was very excited and pointed up to the sky. A gleaming white crescent moon was in the sky, like a high beam smiley face.

Rainbow: MOON!

Me: Yes, the moon. Isn’t it pretty?

Rainbow: Touch moon!

Me: You want to touch the moon?

Rainbow: Pweeze, pweeze. Touch moon. Mama hep. Up, up. Touch moon!

Me: (picking him up) Well, try. Reach up. Can you touch it?

Rainbow: (reaching) Mama, hep! Touch moon!

Me: I’m sorry, buddy. The moon is really high in the sky, higher than an airplane or clouds. Too high to touch. I wish I could help you touch it, though.

He didn’t really fuss, just processed this and looked back up at it adoringly. Moon.

Little love.

He’s at that magical age – like, literally magical. Wonderful things happen all around him and the only explanation is magic. Mama and Daddy can hep him with almost everything he wants to do. And there are moons that are close enough to touch.

It’s bittersweet, you know. Incredibly sweet, to be aware of his trust and wonder. And bitter because… some of the world’s magic will fade into boring facts as he grows up. The wizard will pop out from behind the curtain. Mama and Daddy won’t be able to fix everything.

I want him to always believe in the magic.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Melinda
    Apr 08, 2011 @ 17:02:11

    What a great memory you’ll always have about Rainbow touching the moon. Very sweet. My youngest is almost 2 and I love it. Could never understand why people call it “the terrible twos,” I think 3 is harder 🙂
    Also, your teenagers sound like nice kids. Makes me look foward to when my boys are that age.

  2. Mama Jamz
    Apr 09, 2011 @ 12:26:07

    Thanks, Melinda. It is a sweet age, isn’t it? I love so much when kids start talking and expressing themselves.

    Teenage boys are turning out to be a lot sweeter and more fun than I ever expected them to be. You’ll enjoy having yours that age.

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