Sweet Dreams, my love.

I'm learning to love the night time.  I'm learning to slow down as I tuck him in.  I've been told by a few weathered mothers that the traditional "tuck-in time" should not be rushed as those can be the moments of tremendous growth and times of heart to hearts.

So, I'm practicing.  And while most of our chats in the twinkle-lighted room are still about Superheroes and Yo Gabba Gabba, I know that I'm starting to pave way for an open space of truth.  A place where fears can be shared and moments relived.

I snuggle up to him and he asks, Want to go night-night on my bed, momma?  

I resist that anxious feeling of freedom that lingers beyond his closed door.  The time I get from 8pm - 11pm all to myself.  These, right here, are the moments that I won't have forever.  The snuggle times.  The wide-eyed questions.  I'm dreading the day that I'm not even allowed in his room.

So, I stay.  I snuggle.  I chat about the day.  He tells me about his favorite movie.

Then asks me a question - like a full blown adult.  He asks what my favorite movie is.  And I smile because we are getting to know each other.

 

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This is Going to be EPIC! {on taking a teenager to the movies}

It's exactly 6:30pm and the knock on the door comes.  I told her to come at 6:30 and I knew she wouldn't be a second late.  I open it to a beautiful teenage girl who is my date for the evening.  We say goodbye to my husband and kids sitting around the table eating pizza - with icecream short to follow.

As we walk down the front steps she says, I've been counting down the minutes until 6:30 all day.  My heart swells.  It's just a movie.  I've been to a million.  She's been to two.  In her entire 15 years - two movies.

I decide to take her out of Detroit and into the suburbs.  We pull into the movie theatre, and as I explain what "Valet" is, we find a spot up front to park.

Let's bounce.  She opens the door to my CRV and steps out.

I chuckle to myself.  I'm so old.  "Bounce" has it's own definition in my 29 year old body, now.  The desire for more "bounce" in my hair - less "bounce" in my body.  I definitely don't want to bounce.  But bounce we do.

If anyone asks, you're my mom.  Your mom?  Why do I have to be the old one?  How about your sister?

Suddenly every flaw in my adult self has exposed itself.  The banana smear on my sweatshirt.  The possible snot-slime line around my collar.  Oh. why didn't I change before I left?!  My scarlet letter is blinking red: "MOM".

Our smuggled in Arizona Green Tea cans make too much noise as we open them, but I sure wasn't going to fork out $4 for a soda.  The movie starts. I hear a whisper... This is going to be epic.  It won't be the last time I hear the words "epic" that night.

Her mom calls three times during the night to make sure she isn't getting raped.  Mom has obviously never been to the suburbs.

The movie is over and we drive home.  She raves about the plot, the bathroom sinks, and the garbage cans.  Did you see the garbage cans?  Even they were beautiful!

I drop her off and she begs to do it again.  I'd say it was an EPIC G.N.O.  {translation:  it was an awesome girl's night out!}