I love freedom. Sometimes I feel like I've grown up too fast and when I get these spurts of freedom of responsibly taking care of my son, I wonder if I don't act like a kid. I think recently I've become more adult in my handling of these times instead of like a child alone in a candy shop with the owner or some rich patron saying that I can have as much as I want. It's a beautiful thing. But so is having a small person to look after. I do have to admit that Caleb is one of the funniest people I know. Exclaiming once after seeing another child with a practically pasted on beard, he laughed and said "Momma! He has a huge lipstick!" You gotta love that along with the image of him leaning over the bathroom sink while standing on the toilet, poised with such accuracy that you might've thought he had been practicing this very thing, ready to pluck his eyebrows like is mom. When he was younger he wanted (and sometimes did) help me put on my make-up. Now he likes to turn my computer on (or Mc-Puter, as he calls it, because everything sounds better with a 'Mc' in front of it now) and bring my PJs into the bathroom while I wash my face and him fighting the sleep from his eyes. I love him and am completely frustrated with him in the same blissful moment.
A lot of me hopes that he and I will be great confidants when he is older. I hope passionately that I will be a 'cool' mom and not one where you want to be left a block where you are meeting your friends for fear of what they will say about your parents. We will see though.
Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be famous, then I look at the picture I just posted and think, nah, I just want to be amusing. And I am, at least to me (and Caleb), and to me that is the most important thing.
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