I live with Superman. He is on the other side of two feet, thick wavy hair, and chocolate brown eyes in the middle of lashes any grown woman would envy. His smile is wide and true. The soft baby skin is now bruised from his adventures. Chubby little hands grasp the crayon with his left hand, while pushing and evading the enemy who wants the paper to remain pristine with his right hand. He loves hard and plays even harder.
The lucky few who live with Superman are in a long process of teaching him the way that nice little super heroes should behave. His hand signing is being replaced with new words daily, and we have the job to teach him what words are deemed appropriate. Whining gets him nowhere on most days, but his charming smile can draw down even the strongest armor.
Even Superman needs a nap. He fights and charms but eventually tires out and slips into his dreams. I wonder what Superman dreams about when his legs twitch and lips curl. I know that I dream for him all the world has to offer, strength to handle what the world throws at him, and the wisdom to choose his battles.
Sharing toys doesn’t come easy him. His toys are housed among princesses and pink. Frustrations arise when the princesses want to explore in his territory. It must be hard for Superman to live in princess paradise. It has it’s pros when the princesses play mommy and are at his beckon call.
We teach Superman to love the Lord with all he has in him and walk in His ways. At least that is are aim in the coming years. He bows his head and genuflects on cue always with an accomplished smile at the end. He is quick to praise when a job well done is seen. He warns when food is hot and kisses booboos. It is hard when he realizes that kisses don’t solve everything and will gently ask, “You okay?”, and continue to pat and rub the victim.
Superman has taught me about myself this year. I think of myself as a patient person. My voice raises more than I like and frustrations well inside when repeated polite requests are denied. I have learned the power and importance of alone time. His naps coincide with a story for the princesses and reading time for me. If I fall asleep, I am greeted with Superman’s hand on my face. I thank God for the gift of our son. Boys and girls are different, and it is the differences I love the most. Well, I could do without the three ER trips this year. I am sure that this year will be filled with new opportunities for growth and challenges. I will wake up thanking God for my little Superman.
Mar 17, 2009
Happy 2nd Birthday Little Man.
Posted by Walking in 'Menchis' at Tuesday, March 17, 2009