Looking at him a different way...

Here the last couple of the days, the weather has gone wonky.

 

The air has lost it's dry, flat quality.

 

There is a slight tremor to the air that spells S-C-H-O-O-L is almost here!!!

 

Thank God for small mercies.

 

Really though.  The mornings are cool and last night, I shut off the air conditioner.  I think the high so far today (it's 2:00 p.m.) has been 79 degrees.  Strange days.

 

The boy is riding shotgun on the cattle truck today.  He was so excited, he woke me up at 5:30 a.m., wanting me to get out of bed and fix coffee.  I relish the days that he has something that he looks forward to like that.  He is just generally, a nicer person.  I know, terrible coming from his own mother.  But when he has something to look forward to, he focuses on that instead of making my life miserable.

 

I do bitch about him a bit on here, and really, he isn't so bad.  When he's good, I just revel in it and sit back, thanking God for small miracles.  When he's bad, it affects me.  It makes me feel like a crappy parent.  I take his bad behavior personally and I am half convinced that due to my shoddy parenting skills, I am raising an ax murderer.  But...

 

I do have a GOOD story.  I know, I know.  Control yourselves.  Stories about the child and his pure, wonderful heart are few and far between, so enjoy.

 

My dad had a heart attack on June 11, 2007.  Since then, he has been slowly regaining some of his strength back.  Mostly, he's been listening more to his body and what it is telling him.  When he's tired, he stops, which is something he has never done before.  It was always go until it's done.  Anyway, when we were at the family reunion, Ty and my dad (Papa) went for a walk (that's another thing he does differently- structured exercise) and Papa noticed that the rock jack (the small, cylindrical shaped fence at the end of a fence line that is filled with rocks) was lacking in rocks up at the top so Ty and Papa set about fixing it.  They were hauling rocks to put into it when Papa picked up a rock that was just too big that set his heart to racing and "made him feel bad".  Papa told Ty "Shit, Ty, those big rocks will make me sick again!"  and my little half ax murderer, half angel boy turned and watched every single rock that Papa went to pick up and told him "You can't pick that one up.  It's too big and will make you sick!" every time he thought that the rock might be too much of a strain on Papa.

 

It brings tears to my eyes at the thought of my little boy out there, patrolling every move his Papa made in order to make sure that Papa didn't overdo it.

 

So all that bitching about murderers and rotten children?  I'll try and remember that before I sit to typing again.