"Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad."

My beautiful friend Carrie sent me a card with that quote, and I love it.  (She asked me to be in her wedding in that card, and I love that too, but that's not the point here.)

Aidan very much reminds me of that.  He marches to the beat of his own drummer.  I told him I wanted to take a picture of him with his backpack for the first day of school, and this was the closest to a portrait I could get.  He wanted fighting pictures (Bey Blades "Blay Blayers").  He wanted to see the pictures after I took them, and he loves them.  It's smack-on Aidan.

His teacher sent home a form to send out to tell our hopes and concerns about our kids.  I have lots of both, but my biggest hope/concerns is that he's so beautifully unfiltered - so happy and confident in himself, not knowing or caring what is cool.  I hope that the other or big kids don't beat that out of him; I want him to stay so gloriously dorky, so himself - so honestly cool.

what's new?

I'm wondering how many days he'll get out of the car when I drop him off for school and yell, "Bye, Mommy!  I love you!  Have a great day!"  I could eat him.

I adore this stage where he's sounding things out and so proud of doing it by himself.  This is the text from a birthday card Aidan wrote for Lou Marino, our neighbor, on his 85th birthday on Saturday (Lou was pretty happy to get it!).
HAPE BRF
DA
TU
LU

Again, I could eat him!

and so it begins for the next generation

Audrey, my niece, who's 2 and a half, had a great one the other day.

My sister insists that she doesn't deserve it (clearly she did), when Audrey popped out with, "Mommy, you not being nice....Lord help you!"  I hope she's writing some of these down too.

little man

My gorgeous sweetheart love angel,

I am clear.  I know that your growing up is part of this deal.  I remember feeling like others might not understand when I was little.  You are growing up.  You should.  You must.  I want you to.

I try my best, but I'm not good at it, not to long for the you who's gone while the you who's here is right here for me to appreciate and snuggle.  It's hard.  You're my only you, and honestly, you're spectacular.

You are bright, inventive, curious, involved, funny, loving, appreciative, thoughtful--as well as I know you, you constantly surprise me.  You take the right things seriously and have fun as much as possible; we could all learn a thing or two from that approach. 

As you know, I find you completely irresistible.  I'm also terrible at not showering you with affection; I'm working on it, I promise.  As you're inevitably growing up, I feel the window for such showering closing.  I believe there will be a day when you might not want to be seen with me, when I'll embarrass you (you know, when I'm doing it unintentionally).  It's possible to miss this you who's with me right now as I see the you who will be creeping in, which drives me to drink in every moment I can. 

Yes, I know that I'm nuts, and as much as you do, I also wish that I could turn all this off inside my head and just be as you do.  I can't.  I do, however, love you silly.  Always will; every bit of you.

All this to wish you well as you start kindergarten next week, a new adventure.  Fly, my little man, fly.  You are beautiful.

it's good to have a plan

Aidan had previously thought that he'd like to have five jobs when he grows up (these are coincidental, not sequential):  soldier, builder, accountant, astronaut and zookeeper.  There's been a change to the plan (I'd like to add that none of this is prompted or provoked - the whole was one long dissertation).

When Aidan grows up, he will be twelve different types of scientist.  He's currently working on which twelve, but he's considering astronomy, biology, marine biology, zoology, entomology, gastronomy, microbology, etc.  The list keeps growing and all sound good to him.

He's worked out the schedule.  It'll be too overwhelming to try and fit all of these into a single work day, and he's concerned that he'll not be able to get much done.  Therefore, he'll assign one science to each day and work just on that one.  He'll work long days, but he would like a break from lunch each day.  He'll work through weekends, but he'll take Mondays off.  He'll work very, very hard, but the world will need him to study science.

You go, little man.

Seven hours

On Saturday, I took Aidan to the science museum here in town.  It was a pretty spectacular day--we got to see exhibits, a double feature of imax films, and a local meterologist.

On a side note, the meterologist, who's been on TV as far back as I can remember (which is saying something), asked Aidan whether he'd seen his forecasts.  Aidan's reply?  "Yes!  Sometimes my daddy turns it on, but I don't really like it."  Sorry.

So, we're walking down the stairs an hour past Aidan's naptime, and I tell him that I think he's tired and we should go home now.  "Who really cares what you think, anyway?"  Really?  His punishment is normally to sit on the stairs, and since we were on some already, I had him just sit down where he was.  He kept saying, "Sorry!  Sorry!  Sorry!"  They know.

Seven hours later, I'd been dumped for basketball.  We had tickets to the theater, but I took my sis so that Steven could watch the tournament.  No problem.  He was putting Aidan down for bed and came into the room to see Aidan kneeling in the middle of the bed, praying to Jesus (not an everyday event).  Steven heard something like, "help bring her home safely."  He asked Aidan what he was doing, and found out that he was praying for my safe return - you know, as though I'd gone off to war the year before.  He said, "Aidan, she's only been gone two hours!"  "Oh, Daddy--it seems like forever!  I just hope Jesus brings her home safe to me.  I miss her so much."

Okay, that's undeniably cute.  Really, though?  Really?  In the same span who really cares what I think anyway and also please, Jesus, please bring her back home to me?  Okay....

one down

I ran a 5k on Saturday - I didn't walk it, and I sprinted the end.  I've never run a race before.  I was completely surprised when I was tempted to try it.  Lara spoke of how fun a race was, and traditionally my thought about running has been something akin to, "running is for people who are being chased."  For some reason, though, I was tempted.

Despite the fact that I've been busier this winter than normal, which is saying something, I completed a "couch to 5k" program that had me running three times a week, first 90 seconds at a time and then more until I ran outside last week.  I really like it?  I mean, I really like it!

I still have an issue of getting going.  It's hard to get myself to get out there and run, but I'm always so happy I did.  I'm a little afraid that without a goal (read, "race") I won't be able to keep going, even though I know it's best for me to do it.  I'll sign up for a 10k in June in hopes that that keeps me going (note that this week I haven't been out at all - ugh - training for the 10k starts April 15.  Sure, I'm not feeling well and my hubby's working late, but could I find a way to make it work?  Sure...).

However, I ran my first 5k!  I had a real number and results and everything!  Good start.