walking my mind to an easy time

My baby somehow stopped being a baby this year. Yesterday morning he wrapped his arms around my ribs in his sleep and rolled onto me. I tucked my chin over his head and felt his toes resting on my shins. I've measured him by how far his toes reach while he's sleeping on me; when he was born they curled against my navel, when he was 2 they rested above my knees. They're fast on their way to my own toes, now.

We ate cereal together and sat around on the couch for a bit. He leaned against me watching cartoons while I read. Some of his drawings from daycare are laying on the table - he wrote his own name on all of them. As we walked to the car, he slipped in the wet grass and fell onto the parkinglot asphalt, skinning his knees and hands. He brushed himself off and chuckled, "I ok, I just fell down, that's all." He cringed a bit as he climbed into his carseat. "Mom, how long is it going to hurt?" I turned and put my frozen quesadilla on his knee, and for a moment we looked at it melting there before laughing.

The ride was quiet, radio softly burning holes in me.

Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

I've sucked it up and agreed to return to New York this summer in order to allow my boy a visit with his family, maybe a trip to Lake George. The decision disturbed some of the internal sediment, the radio regained a bit of bite. I glanced back and saw him staring hard out the car window, hands clasped in his lap, contemplating the music and landscape as well. Small glimpse into his adult self, and it looks very much like me.