Sometimes I Forget

I am not talking about the fact that I can never find my keys (although I do have a system that narrows it down to 3 likely locations and a total of 5 possible - woohoo!).

I am not talking about the fact that I have less than a 25% chance of using the right name when calling for my kids (do the math - that is weird).

I am not talking about the hazy blur that is the first years of my kids' lives (that is what the blog is for).

No, sometimes I forget more important things.

As I look at my lanky (soon-to-be) teenager who is rushing towards my height at an incredible pace, I realize that I sometimes forget that we only have 5 more years with him.  Now I realize that some years of his life so far have been slower than others (the first year lasted for.ev.er), but I don't think that is going to be the case with the next 5.  He is already gone quite a bit with the scouts and the youth and his clubs and sports.  So when he asks to have a friend over, I try to say yes when I can because that means that they are here for a little bit at least.

The fact that Josh seems convinced that he is another parent in this family bugs the crap out of me.  But, really, is an incredibly responsible and dependable kid with a strong sense of duty.  He is often a leader of his brothers (sometimes by sheer willpower) and of kids at school in his classes.  He loves to read and it is fun to now be able to share more of the things we enjoy with him (Helllloooo Doctor Who!).  I can see that he notices how difficult Isaac can be for us, but at the same time he is so good with Isaac that I think he will make a great father.

As I look at my 10 desperate-to-be-11 year old (so he can watch Doctor Who), I realize that I sometimes forget how extremely talented he is.  Truly, Michael has it all: a natural at sports, good at school work, musical, creative, and a wicked sense of humor at times.  He is by far the most sensitive of the boys and that makes him a good friend and an excellent teacher.  Like excellent.  But he doesn't see any of those things about himself is a little worrisome to me.  He doesn't need to be cocky, but coming up behind Josh who is obliviously confident at times, has got to be rough.

The fact that Michael cannot stop making noise bugs the crap out of me, but it is really (at least I tell myself) a manifestation of his musicality and creativity.  Or ADHD.  I guess we'll see.  But he already enjoys writing his own songs on the ukulele and enjoy practicing all of his music without be asked to do so.  I do realize this is every parent-of-a-child-who-plays-an-instrument's dream.  Hopefully it will last.  I have dreams that he will be the kid in our family to continue on the tradition of playing an instrument (skipped me, but my grandmother played piano, my mom piano, my uncle just about everything, my dad clarinet, my sister clarinet).

As I look at my 7-year-old, I realize that I sometimes forget that he is actually only 7.  Going on 30, yes, but 7 nonetheless.  He is an old soul and has spent so much of his life around older kids that he often seems so much more mature.  Until he doubles over or falls out of his chair laughing because he said or heard the word "butt".  Then his actual age becomes glaringly apparent.  Ben is our super quick kid. Not necessarily with his feet, but with his brain.  I am constantly surprised by the leaps of logic he is able to make or conclusions he reaches with what seems like not enough information for someone his age.

That fact that Ben intentionally baits Isaac bugs the crap out of me.  As if Isaac isn't difficult enough left to his own devices.  Seriously, Ben?  Seriously?  Truly, it is all probably normal older brother type of harassment, but Isaac is so difficult when he isn't being bugged that anything Ben does to bug him seems completely uncalled for.  Having said that, Ben really just wants Isaac to give him hugs and love him.  Of all the kids, I miss having Ben home all day the most.  He was (is) such a good, little buddy.

As I look at Baby Rage, I realize that I sometimes forget how little he really is.  His personality and behaviors are so often larger than life, that I catch a glimpse of his tiny little wrists and all of a sudden the reality of his actual size comes crashing down on me.  When he wants to be cute, this kid is adorable.  He reminds me of a poem my mom told me when I was little:

(adapted to fit Isaac)
There was a little boy,
And he had a little curl
  Right in the middle of his forehead.
When he was good
He was very, very good,
  And when he was bad he was horrid.

I won't bother listing the things Isaac does that drives me crazy.  But I will say that I am fascinated to see what his personality is like when he grows up a little bit.  I am also fascinated to see if we survive him as a 3-year-old.

In any cases, just some of my thoughts lately when I have a quiet moment (ha!) to consider these 4 boys.