We're riding in the car tonight and Coen says, "Mommy?"
"I'm just not that happy. Like I just don't feel that excited right now."
Tad makes a fake sympathetic noise and I know he is about to make fun. I feel protective of my son and I grab Tad's arm and look at him warningly
"What!?" Tad says. "I was just thinking about something else"
I give him another look
"I was just thinking" he goes on, "about this boy I know who is homeless and hungry."
I get his point.
My child is like me. He thrives on connection with other people. He looks so forward to events, parties, gatherings and the like that when they are over, he feels an extreme let down. So the week before last we had the Kalahari. And then a crazy week with Monday off and a Wednesday snow day and an ACTION PACKED weekend. Now it's Wednesday. Not a whole lot is going on this coming weekend. And he's feeling the let down. I get it. When I was a kid, the night after a party, I distinctly remember lying awake in my room, feeling empty and sad. It was like I could feel the ghost of the fun that was had there before. So I get it. But it's hard, as a parent, when your child says something like that. When he's just finished going out for dinner with his parents and sister and gone swimming and soaked in a hot tub.... Yeah, I get Tad's point.
And you know, I thought I would feel some sort of let down after the 40 under 40 dinner was over. But I haven't. Maybe I'm just grateful for some normalcy. Which is weird. Have I become a grown-up without my knowledge?
I went up to tuck Coen in and turn his light off for the night.
"I just want to show you something." he said.
I sat on his bed. And he proceeded to go through his ENTIRE Star Wars pop-up book and do some funny voice for each page. Most of them beginning with the phrase "Oh YEAH" said in a scratchy low voice. It took more than ten minutes, and all I wanted to do was go downstairs and cash in on the back rub Tad promised me and watch something mindless on TV. But he's my boy. He needed to connect with me by making me laugh as he had Yoda dancing with the Emperor via the pop-up book, saying "Oh YEAH. Do the Jibby."
Fifteen minutes later, I just went up for a final tuck-in and he asked me to cover him halfway with the blanket.
"No, not my bottom half" He said as I pulled it up on his legs. "Actually HALF of me."
"Half your body?"
So I covered half his body and laughed as I went down the stairs.
I understand him, mostly. Well, maybe HALF. And I love him. All of him.