The Melting World

Only my son has the power to get me to go to Mall of America–the largest indoor shopping mall in the world. I don’t like the crowds, the noise, the plastic shops and the onslaught of buy-buy-buy. But he wants to go there for a reason. Mainly, it is to ride the light-rail train, which terminates there, and then to ride the kiddie rides at the amusement park inside.

Yesterday he decided enough with the kid-sized rides and told me quite strongly that we were going on the roller coaster–I tried to pretend he meant the little roller coaster, but I knew he had something else in mind. We had a few books from the library about roller coasters recently, and they had peaked his interest. Also, his father and he had decided it was fun to run down the hallway at home with their hands in the air and act as if they were on a roller coaster.

So, sure enough, he made it clear with a loud “No!” when we arrived at the pint-sized one, and a tugged me in serious redirection, almost marching me to the big adult version, for which his height was cleared as acceptable by a half-inch, sigh. Folks, I hate rides, I hate dropping and hurtling through space and I hate surrendering my life to a bored-looking stranger in a tiny cotton cap and baby blue overalls fiddling with a few blinking buttons.

But I can’t say no to my son when he is so determined and excited–and he, of course, rode that big roller coaster like it was no big deal while I clung to him in terror. He even had his hands up in the air, just like he had practiced at home, and he’s not even 6. This boy has a hunger for speed and adventure that cannot be denied, and I now realize that, as his mom, I’m going to get to a taste of living on the edge again and again.

Near the end of August, my son and I headed up north to Ely with some family and rented a cabin on a small lake. A loon family of five paddled about calling hello to us each morning and evening. We saw Uncle Bud–who lives up there on his own– whom I haven’t seen for 8 years, and whom my son had never met. As always, he came to see us with blueberries he had picked himself and his homemade muffins. I managed to accidentally scrape off my uncle’s front license plate with my sister’s car, too, but all in all it was good to be up north again. In a perfect world, I would not ‘work’ in a capitalistic sense anymore, instead I’d like to live up there in a small cabin, grow a huge garden, and pretend everything in this world is fine.

The bottom two teeth have fallen out, folks. One surrendered after a determined and lengthy chew around the circumference of an apple, and the second retired after he gnawed on a plastic straw. These pics are to commemorate my 5-year-old son’s steps toward future man-sized chompers. May he keep biting into apples well into his nineties…

I discovered two grown Japanese cucumbers in our garden. They tasted so gooood and fresh, not tasteless like store-bought ones–even my son ate them with relish (and that’s a first).

My son and I hid from the world by snuggling under a heavy quilt. I felt happy to not be racing around, just be-ing quiet.

I am planning a trip up north to see my uncle, whom I haven’t seen since I was in my twenties. It’s only for two nights, but we may get there in time for the blueberries….and my son can finally meet his great-uncle.

That’s three blessings for today. I want to focus on what went well each day instead of dwelling on what did not go so well. Perspective is an art form.

Below are two drawings my son made back-to-back as he examined himself carefully in the mirror both during a brief crying jag and after his full recovery. He labeled them accordingly.

Minneapolis Grain Belt Brewery

My son wrote this sentence of his own accord yesterday, and he does sum up two of his passions in a succinct manner: “I love trains and computers.”

His ability to write and read has grown incredibly, much faster than his ability to speak. I think (but I’m guessing here) that the printed word, as a visible object, makes more sense to him, and he seems to process his world around him more quickly when there is a picture, a tangible object, a demonstrated action, or a written word to accompany any sounds or speech.

I am also quite pleased that he loves going to the library and reading books as much as I do. We go each week to a small brick library called Pierre Bottineau, which is made from a renovated wagon shed from 1893 and millwright shop from 1913. The library is tucked in the shadow of the locally famous Grain Belt Brewery [more like a castle], which is now owned by an architectural firm that restored it to its past grandeur. The only thing I dislike about this very cozy building is the freezing air conditioning, but I have adapted by trying to remember to wear layers and bring a sweatshirt along, too.

Alright then, folks, below are a few of my son’s recent renditions of his beloved trains. He really enjoyed scanning all his drawings into the computer, and he did this all by himself after I showed him once.

“Hi!”…well, it’s been far too long since I last posted here–and I really miss being able to carve a few moments where I could write to the universe now and again (as I see this blog, since I have no idea who, if anyone reads it–besides me).

I have created a life without wiggle room for the time being–one-night-a-week graduate class, two nights-a-week joining my son for his swimming lesson and speech and occupational therapies, and then full-time work is full-time work times 10 since we are now transitioning into an interdisciplinary university-wide program–which results in strange creatures called ‘working committees’ to scatter about my desk and floor, and no matter where I step, I step on one of them, and they like to squawk.

And then I decided I need to apply for a part-time job (Ahhh, don’t ask!) and will interview soon.

I am either insane or insane, folks. You tell me.

From winding all around the concert hall, across a bridge, down a hill, curving to the left and to the right, and around a corner, and way beyond, where my eyes could no longer see, these people waited, hopeful that a change is gonna come.

20,000 strong!