Wednesday, August 3, 2011
What a very long day
Noah, my oldest son and recent high school graduate, spoke his first words about the same time as any other kid. To the average stranger on the street there is nothing special about my boy. They don't see his quirky sense of humor, sparkling blue eyes, and bow shaped mouth. They don't see my father and brothers the way I do. That's one of the things that I love about being a mom....seeing the men that I've loved reflected in my boys. Because of these men, my grandfather, father, and three brothers I refuse to believe that men are the low down dirty dogs that the world makes them out to be. I know that they can be, but I also know that they are capable of more....oh so much more. When I see those same superlative character traits in my boys it makes my heart sing. On those days I am proud to be a mom.
From the moment he could do more than sleep, poop, and cry, Noah has had a love affair with sport. His first word? "Ball" The moon was a ball. We had big balls, little balls, squishy balls, and golf balls. You name it and we had one. The things seemed to multiply like rabbits. We had great fun playing catch and fetch and anything else that you could play with a ball. In a pinch we could play air ball.
Having spent many hours on the proverbial bench, and being banned from participation, Noah turned to athletic training. Despite the fact that it has a predominantly female demographic, or perhaps because it does?, my boy loves it. In what other field can you be in the middle of any and every sporting event and yet not get clinked on the head, tackled, or otherwise injured by yourself or the opponent?! It is a match made in heaven. Thus I sit on the edge of a bed in a hotel room on the interstate in Next to Nowhere, Texas while my boys play paint ball on the television.
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