March 21, 2008

waxing rhapsodic

I love my baby boy. Adore. After giving it some thought since yesterday, I MIGHT adopt the "Love You Forever" ideology and strap a ladder to the top of my car so I can climb into Kevin's dorm room and cuddle him in his sleep. (Of course, this won't happen until he turns 18 or until I decide to let him leave home, whichever comes first!)

So, he has a "girlfriend". They are "going out". Now, what this means is they decided they each think the other one is cute. I have to admit, the whole situation is cute. I also have to admit, I'm enjoying posting this because his sister doesn't know about "the girlfriend" and she is generally the first one to know such things! (Ha, Kacey - that's what you get for being out of the country!) I'm not going to post the girlfriend's name, as I want his sister to call and find out!

All that to say this: He is growing up. I miss when he was little. I miss when he was 3 and I would say, "Kevin, come whisper sweet things in mommy's ear" and he would crawl into my lap and whisper in my ear, "Fweet things, Mommy." I miss when he called the utility room the "Titilly" and when caterpillars were still "calepittars". I miss him sleeping in our bed. But Thursday night, I got to relive just a bit of it. After we watched "Lost" together, he got his iPod, sat on my lap, stuck his green jelly earbuds in my ears, and spent 45 minutes playing songs for me he thought I would like - sitting in my lap the whole time. I enjoyed singing out loud with the earbuds, because they make me sound GREAT in my own head! At the end of our 45 minutes, I made him put in the earbuds and I selected Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" (a favorite of this former clarinet player), and I scratched his back while he got a new lesson in music appreciation. All in all, not a bad way to spend 3/4 of an hour.

Lest you think it was all sweet and heartfelt, Kevin did make note: "Mom, just because you sound great in your own head when you sing out loud, doesn't mean you REALLY sound that great." Teenagers. Gotta love 'em.

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