Jul. 19: I met Alex! Again!

Once upon a time, coming up on almost 14 years ago, I met a boy who was adorable and sweet. He was brand new and belonged to my friend Kim F’n. I saw him again a few months later when I got married and he came to my wedding, where he probably cried a little and stole some of my bridal thunder. Then I didn’t see him again for a long time, until Jack was born and Kim brought her boys to the hospital to meet him. And then it was a long time again.

But today I got to see him!

In fact, we even texted beforehand, just to get to re-know each other a little. And I told him a secret that he wasn’t supposed to tell his mom, but I know he totally told her anyway because she would be mean if he kept a secret from her and he knows that. He’s a good boy.

Oh, and I put on a little lipstick in anticipation of his and Kim’s arrival at my house this afternoon:

Meet Alex!

(That’s me in the lipstick. Alex is not wearing lipstick. I would hate for you to get us confused.)

We had a lovely visit and I’m glad to say Alex is just as charming today as he was the day he was born, possibly even more so. Of course, we would expect nothing less of Kim’s offspring, now, would we?

Kim was pretty cool today too. AS USUAL. Kim is always rockin’ awesome, even when she yells at me on Facebook and tries to make me feel bad. I love her even though I’m suspicious she has chickens roaming her house.

But perhaps most important of all, I must explain that the reason my eyes look the way they do in the picture above is because Kim said, “Hang on, I’m gonna take your picture. Now, look directly into the sun for five minutes and then I’ll press the button.”

She is sooo paying for my eye repair. Also, I’m suddenly out of lipstick. Weird, huh?

Apr. 21: Kisses and cure-alls

Jack started this thing with me a long time ago, where I blow him a kiss and then he “catches” it in the air and shoves it in his pocket to save it. Eventually he started blowing kisses back to me, so I always have a pocketful of kisses from my boy. Before he goes to bed, we have a routine: he kisses me on the lips and cheek, then hugs me, then kisses my hand, and then we blow kisses to each other and put them in our pockets.

You’re probably thinking, “Oh, how sweet!” (except Chris, who’s probably thinking “Ew, germs!”). But quite frankly, the precious-ness of this ritual disappeared a long time ago, because on your average day, it happens over and over. Most the time—even though he’s the one to start the whole thing—he doesn’t even make eye contact because he’s in a hurry to get back to Phineas & Ferb (if you don’t know, don’t ask...) or Katie’s racing him upstairs. It’s one of those rote things I figure he doesn’t even think about anymore.

I just dropped him off at school because we were running late and missed the bus. He was taking his time getting out of the car and I was frustrated that he—like every other Manullang male—has no concept of time. Just before he opened the door he blew me a kiss. I hastily blew one back and said, “Now, go!” through my clenched teeth. Jack caught my kiss and with what appeared to be seriousness he said, “Thanks, Mom. I really needed that today.”

I think my heart actually skipped a beat. He slammed the door and ran off to catch up with Josh and Jayson. And I drove to New Seasons feeling like an insensitive clod of a mom.

Fortunately, the macaroni and cheese at New Seasons fixes anything. Because, well, yum.

Mar. 13: It's easy to love him

So, I’m especially grouchy this morning because my head hurts and I hardly slept last night and Jack won’t shut the hell up even though I keep reminding him that it’s Mommy’s quiet time.

I would like my quiet time to be from whenever Jack wakes up to when Jack goes to school, but I’m not a total Meanie Mom™. He thinks I’m joking if I say he can’t talk because he didn’t submit a written request first. He says, “You’re funny, Mom. And what does ‘request’ mean?”

When I just kind of loudly and firmly asked him for the eleventieth time not to race his cars back and forth across the back of the couch while I’m resting on it, I added a very forced “I love you” at the end so I would feel a little less Meanie Mom™. He came around to the front of the sofa and said this:

“The whole earth, and the planet and all the minutes it takes to walk around it, that’s how many numbers I love you, plus all the planets. All of them.”

I’m not going to say that tender moment makes it all worth it, because I still feel like $#!+ and he’s still running his cars back and forth across the back of the couch. But the temptation to strangle him has faded a little.