The other day I met up with a good friend who came back from Australia for a short visit. Was caught in the traffic on the way home- didn't make it to greet gooly at the gate, as I usually do (he takes the van now till after my confinement, I guess). He called me once he reached home, of course and I explained my predicament. Told him to have his dinner, and I'd be back in a jiffy.
Upon entering the house, I realized that the hot shower has been turned on. He was dancing in the 'rain', stomping on the little puddles he had made. He is not tall enough (yet) to turn on the heater and the shower on/off button.and that's when I saw the green ikea stool next to him.
Ahh.. He has climbed on it to do stuff himself.
Ahh.. The ability to think of a solution before shouting out for help or the notion of NOT just waiting out till mom gets home to do it, makes me feel proud of his independence.
What am I talking? Going to school for a whole six hours and taking rides home alone are epitomes of independence! But still, little changes in his everyday routine makes me think how grown up he is.
So I shouted a boo that scared the bollocks out of him, making him squeal...ah just like a little boy. Transformation of big boy to a little one with a shriek. I like that. At least I know the baby in him still exists.
"Mom, where did you go? I miss you.... I ate my dinner and was waiting for you. So I took a shower. See the stool? I wasn't tall enough...!" he prattled on.
Ahh.. The little boy who still divulges his day to day thoughts and feelings. To me. His mother.
I like that too.A lot.