Well, I don’t know if it’s an age thing, or the fact that we’re back in our house again after months of remodeling, or that we’re out biking or running or swimming every single day, or WHAT, but he’s back. My sweet, loving, helpful crazy boy came back. It’s been a year now of pushing buttons and wandering the house at night and just general insanity but I really feel like he’s here again. He doesn’t seem to delight in the button pushing any more, doesn’t revel in making me so mad I lose my mind. He’s helpful now, making his bed and clearing dishes and earning an allowance every week that he’s stockpiling away to buy more baseballs. Big Shock. But it’s really like he went from awkward teenage angst to confident kid again and now that things aren’t so crazy, he’s not taking it out on the rest of us.
Now let’s be honest, this is not to say that he’s perfect.
Yeah, so even though we have a LOCK on the freezer and we’ve repeatedly asked him NOT to raid the freezer or hoard Hershey Kisses (true story), that doesn’t seem to be sticking. His sweet tooth knows no bounds. But seriously? I’ll take the random pantry raid here and there as long as my sweet baby boy is back.
He gives out hugs with reckless abandon, wants to hold my hand and every night at the dinner table, when we talk about our favorite part of the day? His is always the time that we spent together as a family. It’s adorable. And almost like the aliens returned him and took back whatever they had previously put in his place.
They can keep it.
And as he now asks to sing the Peanut her goodnight songs, I sit and listen to him, and watch him as he strokes her hair and gives her goodnight kisses and I see the compassionate, crazy, amazing boy that he’s always been… and the amazing, incredible boy that he’s going to be.
Welcome Back Big Kid.