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The Living Without Series

This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out: liv011Living #2liv031liv04

Coal Creek Farm on Facebook

The Chicken Doctor

April

The Architect

Clay

My First Little Boy

Look!  I have decent photos of Seth.  Of course you know I didn’t take these and as always I have my friend Mrs. Mama to thank for documenting my kids’ lives in good photos for me.

Seth is in the midst of a massive growth spurt.  When I look at photos of him that were taken just a few months ago, he looks so different from these photos.  It’s weird how fast a boy can change into a young man.  Seth has always been a big kid, but he definitely had a slow growth period through junior high where other boys in his class were taller than him.  He spent most of his freshman year bulking up and eating constantly.  Now all that bulk is stretching and stretching and stretching….and he still eats constantly.  My once pudgalicious boy is turning into a huge skinny man-creature.

He still has a bit of a baby face on top of that massive body which is why I can get away with calling him Sethy in front of his friends, and the fact that he has never asked any of us to stop calling him Sethy.  He has always turned bright red whenever he exercises, just one of the many benefits of being related to his father.  Within a few short minutes Seth’s cheeks will be glowing and then his arms and legs and pretty soon he’s just a giant, red, sweaty thing running up and down the court.  One of his team mates said, “You can’t tell how hard we’ve worked at practice by how red Seth’s cheeks are, but you can tell how hard we’ve worked by how LONG they stay red.”

At the beginning of the season there were a couple of boys that were the same height as him.  As you can see he’s shot past his teammates.  He’s such a large presence in the house now that I think he’s Clay when he walks into the room.

Last week I had to work at school and he had to stay after school with me.

When I was ready to go, I walked through the gym and saw he was shooting baskets. It’s so rare that I get one on one time with him, so I decided to play with him for a bit.

 

“I’ll guard you, okay?”  I said to him as I took off my jewelry.

“Mom….I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh, please.  You can’t hurt me!  But, I get to foul you as much as I want.”  said Raggedy Anne to Andre the Giant.

 

I spent the next thirty minutes getting bounced and jostled off my son as I tried to guard him and running into what I swear was a brick wall that looked like my son’s chest.  What the heck happened to my squishy-puppy-dog of a little boy?  At one point he shot over me as I tried to block his shot he ran into my arm hyper-extending it a bit.  I spent the next few days with all the muscles from my cuticle to my ear throbbing.

My little boy isn’t a little boy anymore, but that doesn’t stop him from asking me to give him a hug when he’s cold, which is a bit like hugging a refrigerator…but still.

He’s going to change so much more in the next year.  I’m going to have to pay more attention to him so I won’t turn around one day and see a grown man with a beard asking me if we have anything to eat in the house.

The End….with the obligatory butt smack.

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