the eugene bean

E is sick; again, with some sort of what I’m guessing is a virus. Fever, runny nose, sore throat…in good spirits but obviously under the weather.

Sometime last night around 11, I hear him crying from his bed. Now, Ty and I had been watching the Sopranos and I really worried that E had been crying for some time but we were unable to hear him amidst the screaming of the word fuck and the gunshots and the noise of beating someone in the head with a 2x4. So I hurry in to check on my baby.

He’s drenched in sweat, huge tears running down his face, just miserable. I pick him up and sway with him in front of the fan, shushing him and singing little songs. He calmed down quickly, and I could soon feel his little fingers playing with the hair on the back of my neck.

I’m suddenly struck dumb by his weight. When did my little guy get too heavy? Why is my back straining under the weight of my baby?

And that’s when my eye fell on J in his top bunk.

Holy Crap he’s big. His face looked so old and grown up, his body looked so, so long and lithe, again I was struck dumb.

How is this happening? And why does the time seem to just fly by until one night, the Cold Hard Truth of Time and Age rears its ugly head and threatens to destroy my peace of mind?

I feel my knees go weak and my throat constrict and my eyes fill with tears. I am overcome by a panic that grips me so suddenly and fiercely, I have to sit on the side of the bed to keep from falling.

Life is happening all around me. Whether I’m ready or not, my boys are aging, Ty is aging, I am aging. Time is passing and although most of the time I’m happy to be part of this constantly moving and changing Earth, sometimes I just want it to Stop, Slow Down, let me catch up, let me ready myself for the next step.

What kind of mom will I be to two teenage boys? What kind of wife will I be as I age? What kind of changes do I need to make now so that my life continues to grow and my family continues to prosper despite the roadblocks and challenges that are most certainly headed our way?

Ty and Tony were waiting for me throughout this first of what I’m sure will be many mid-life crises. It was time to go back and face Life.

So I gingerly twist and turn on the bottom bunk to lay my now sleeping sick child on his pillow. And I crack the ever living shit out of his head on a 2x4 that supports J’s bed.

Holy. Crap. And. Shit.

I pick him up and start the whole process of comforting him again, this time with an even bigger dose of guilt and the tears really streaming.

Luckily he has a really short memory and was calm in just moments.

Really, this parenting stuff ain’t for sissies.