Musins of my Man Cub.

A plush Snake and a banister..

creative zipline indeed.

This week, I have felt compelled to write about my Man-child

To share with you, but also to log for my failing memory to refresh.

He has been so incredibly full if life.

Its always there,

Sometimes I am lucky enough to slow down and notice it.

Let me elaborate:

for breakfast prayer:

"Please don't let this food kill us all"

For breakfast the next day:
"Dear God, please don't let Lauren hit me in the back of the head with a rock"

At the end of that day:

"Mom! God answered my prayers!"

(Were all still alive, and Lauren did not use his head as backboard for a rock)

Tonight at dinner,

He told the host

"Thank you for the dinner, it filled me up with goodness!"

He has promised me to live in the warehouse down the street

And never leave me for another town.

I can handle that.

His funky dance moves,

And giving, patient, guiding motives.

On any given day, he would offer anything to anyone,

And gladly do without.

I love how he uses every part of his body to tell you the story.

His eyebrows,

Screechy voice,

his arms, from the shoulders down to the finger tips.

His tippy toes.

All to tell the story of his life (for the moment).

I used to have a 'coin phrase'

"If I knew all my babies would be as easy as Silas, I think I could commit to at least a dozen"

That deal still stands.

My Dad wrestled him during out Thanksgiving break.

It was great.

I overheard Silas calling him a

'big sissy girl with a bow in his hair'

His Grandpa actually took that pretty well.

If you haven't followed the sequence of pictures,

It tells the story of my boy and his first experience on a dirt bike track-

With two wheels!

The above picture is of Silas and all but one of my brothers.

Its very dear to me.

I admit (and relinquish my pride to say)

that I am not the cool mom who was in a relaxed mood,

Watching on pins and needles,

Watching with my hand over my mouth,

Trying to not rush to his aid after every fall,

I was also beaming with pride though.

My big brother got to show him the trail, then set him loose.

Everytime Silas would fall, I would call out asking his condition

(internally screaming come give your mamma a hug!),

And Uncle Chris would abruptly say "He's fine!"

It ended up being a really great experience for the boy and his Uncles.

I wish we were closer.

My boy would really like that.

Tomorrow, I am going to dedicate my time to making that boy as happy as he makes me.

Pretty sure that's impossible,

But I am missing too many of the moments that count,

Where I realize how different he is,

And how lucky I really am to have him for such a short while.

Pretty soon, he will love down the street.

And I will not have his dog breath to wake up to in the mornings.