This past weekend, we celebrated the end of summer with two major events: the marriage of our close friends (and possibly the coolest party ever!) and Matt's very first sleepover at his aunt and uncle's house. It was a highly anticipated affair for both he and his cousin, and we were pretty sure it would go well, considering Matt came out of the womb with the spirit of a fully-functional, highly independent, 80-year-old man (except when it comes to putting his shoes on, of course). When I dropped him off, I will admit: I got a little choked up. I
was leaving my baby for the first time to sleep under someone else's roof, after all. Matt coped by issuing me an obligatory "Bye, mom!" over his left shoulder while heading off to play with his cousin's trucks, dinosaurs, and superhero paraphernalia. It was touching.
Beyond enjoying the company of friends at an adults-only evening reception and getting a "first" checked off Matt's list of life's stepping stones, I really didn't expect anything
unbelievable happening over the weekend, but it did. During one of a few check-in phone calls to auntie's house, my sister-in-law uttered a truly profound statement, something so mind-blowing and life-affirming that it gives me chills days later just thinking about it. She said, "NOW, I get why Michelle is exhausted at the end of a day. This kid has
not....stopped....talking!"
Well, alleluia and amen, sister! Thank you. Nothing like a little validation to send the spirit soaring! I remember back in the day when Matt was teeny-tiny and I wondered, "Hmmm...doesn't seem to make much noise; when will he come out with something?" Ha! At just about one year, while walking with his Papa, he took one look at his aunt's English bulldog and uttered, "Henry." From then on, he's been speeding down the highway of conversation at about a buck-ten with no rest stops.
Matt loves to role play. He is entirely devoted to his craft, and spends a good part of his day performing various scenes from some superhero variety show in his head, which, because he's an only child, always involves me. Anywhere we go now, I'm directed to play the "roving reporter," meaning I'm to report on the scene before me and he's to be caught on film (I'm also the camera guy) saving the world. Frankly, I'm just not that smart or creative, and I find it kind of hard to keep up with him. The good ol' tricks my mother used, like "Honey, go play!" just don't work on Matt. He wants nothing less than my absolute full attention.
Enter my saving grace, his buddy, who moved in across the street from us a few years back (God definitely threw me a bone on that one). He's quite a strong little personality wrapped up in a 3.5-foot frame himself, and he's usually the one reason I'm able to get anything done around here. I "borrow" that poor child on a semi-regular basis. His mom is one heck of a gal. Lord knows, there have probably been times when she just wanted her son to hang around and do his thing within her own range of vision, but she most likely saw the look of desperation on my face and relented. Recently, upon my discovery that she was using her mother (gasp!) as a sitter for an afternoon outing, I chastised her. She's got one crazy, busy schedule tending to three children, and I think she forgets what it's like to be the sole entertainment for one young lad. Here's the description I laid before her of two possible ways my afternoon could go:
Afternoon A: Matt and Michelle, having exhausted all ideas of fun, are inside their home, where Michelle almost in vain tries to accomplish a few productive things around the house while her beloved son chirps incessantly from somewhere around her heels: "Mom, what's a rebate?", "Mom, look at this," "Mom, come play with me," "Mom, how do they make Cheez-Its?"
or...
Afternoon B: Matt and Buddy do their thing and Michelle does hers...and every once in a while she checks them out to make sure they're not burning anything.
I love my non-stop-talker, my superhero, my interrogation specialist, but boy, of the above two options, some days I just have to--for the sake of my own sanity--go with Afternoon B. Not every day can be filled with exciting outings or fun play dates. Some days, mom has to do the laundry or dust the pollen off the sills or try her hand at a chocolate ganache (yes, kid, things
could be worse!), or heck, just steal a few moments to glance at a magazine. Some days, the mom of "just one" has to choose a little peace and quiet and a sweet young boy simply has to settle for her partial attention.
