Tuesday, April 10, 2007

The Hairs on His Head

I wish I could recall the conversations word for word at times. Like last night, laying in bed with Tukey, wonderboy of age five, who twisted the pieces of my hair around his finger, then grabbed my face and squished it in his chub hands.

Want me to count the hairs on my head? he asked.

That would take forever I said.

I can tell you their names.

You name the hairs on your head? I asked.


And then a quiet moment of thought before he felt his scalp.

This is Jimmy.

And this one's name is Bob.

And then he moves his hand over a bit, and introduces me to another hair on his head.
This is, um... Freddie.

Nice to meet you Jimmy, Bob and Freddie I say. I didn't ask him why there were no girl hairs on his head, cuz come on, that would just be plain silly. He's a boy, after all.

Next, he tells me that each hair on his head has a color name too.

This one is orange, and here's red. This one is blue, and this one is black. This one is skin color, and this one is purple. This one is magenta!
Magenta! That's a big color word for a five-year old.

We lay there, he and I, snuggled with his Sesame Street blanket that I will never get rid of, and his Mickey Mouse and Goofy blanket that will remain with his Grover blankie until they are simply bits of thread and memories.

Because, when he's no longer naming the hairs on his head, or giving them each an individual color, I'll be able to at least crawl into his bed, smell him on his blankets, wish for these days to freeze in time, and cry.

Yep, I will sob for these moments. And wish they'd never leave me.


Anonymous said...

What a sweet boy! I too have a five year old son and there is nothing sweeter in the world! Sounds like his sweetness may have helped the crabs? Just be glad that means you are crabby, not that you really have crabs!

Piddler said...

Crabbiness and bliss; the two sides of the motherhood coin. We give up so much for them; we get so much from them. The real trick is to find ways to be mom and wife and daughter and sister and friend and still be just you. Not identified by a relationship. Horses are what make me just me. My Indian name would be Smells Like Horses. What would yours be?

Monnik said...

those are the most treasured moments. I try to write down as many as I can remember so that when my kids are old and living elsewhere, I can somehow remember these kinds of times.

I love, love, love that he has a color for the hairs! My mind works that way too, things have colors. Oh, and they have personalities. Like piano keys? Some are nice and some are mean. Probably a bit too much insight into my brain, but I'll betcha Tukey would understand!!

MaNiC MoMMy™ said...

Leslie--Yes, his sweetness got rid of the crabs! LOL...

Piddler--My Indian name for certain right now:

Stinky Pig Feet.

Man, I need a shower!

Monnik--did you read what I said over at your blog about the mean piano keys, I totally got what you meant! (I think I did anyway!)

xxxx said...

No, he did not! Oh my gosh, he is the cutest of the cute. I love Tukey.

Anonymous said...

Yup that is exactly what you will do. I kept my guys cutest baby outfits and whenever I want their little baby selves back I go through the box and cry. Or threir baby album...so that I can see just what cute chubby little packages they were.

Tukey is adorable and you'll be glad you have captured him so well in your posts because tomorrow he will be 18 and graduating from highschool.

Angel said...

what a sweet, heart felt post.

They grow up wayyyy to fast. and don't you just love to smell your kid? They always smell so good...at that age...not 15 and sweaty!

Lucky boy Tukey

Anonymous said...

Lovely! I love Tukey's creativity. Enjoy his childhood - savor his ability to grow up - give him the love and skills he needs and watch him fly.

Jenster said...

So sweet! I love and cherish all those silly little moments, too. There's such a bittersweetness to our babies growing up. I can easily cry thinking about how cute and sweet mine were when they were little and how much I miss it with every fiber of my being. But on the other hand, I'm loving who they're becoming and how much fun they are now. And in just another blink of my eye they're going to be adults and independent and doing their own thing and they won't need me and I will be sad. Until DH and I got on a great vacation and don't have to find a sitter! :o)

Lainey-Paney said...

don't you just hate how fast they grow???

Rusty Nails said...

OK, that post is causing me to tear up a bit. Ugh... Get this book and read it. It's about a little boy and his mom:

"Love You Forever," by Robert N. Munsch

Monnik said...

yep, i saw it and agree! but some of the white keys are mean too. it depends upon the song. :)

Senor Beavis said...

I was going to return your damnation by faint praise, but this is the absolute wrong post to do it. I know when to pick my spots. :)

Oh, and to answer your question, it's pink because that's funny.

MaNiC MoMMy™ said...

Senor Beav--thank you for your kindess. I'm sure they'll be another post you can damnate. Oh, I think I just made up a new word.

Pink is cool; in fact, Ajers has a shirt that says: TOUGH ENOUGH TO WEAR PINK.

Nancy French said...

You know, this reminds of a Scripture that says, "What is the price of five sparrows? A couple of pennies? Yet God does not forget a single one of them. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are more valuable to him than a whole flock of sparrows."--Luke 12:6-7 (NLT)

It doesn't say that God knows how many strands of hair you have, but that he knows that the one that just was pulled out in your hair brush was number 4,879. Isn't that interesting? It shows an intimate and sweet aspect of God's love for you -- the love that will endure throughout your life, even when your children have left and you're curled up under the old blanket.

:) God will still be there.

Anonymous said...

As long as you remember these moments- they don't end.

Stephanie J. Blake said...

Ah, that's so cute. I can't read that Love You Forever book to my boys. It makes me bawl. Then they ask why I am bawling and look at me like the nutcase I am.

My Indian name today is Eats Too Much Sugar

Matt said...

Counting his hairs AND naming them... his ambition is beautiful. Thank you for sharing.