One Too Many Hits With the Snake.

one too many hits 
with the snake  - one too many hits 
with the snake   one too many hits with the snake

At his game on Sunday, Cam stopped a shot with his head. His head (which was wearing a helmet), along with the rest of him, is currently at the doctor’s office– where he will hopefully be cleared to play next week. But as we all now know, concussions are to be taken seriously. In addition, he is traveling one way this weekend while I will be traveling the opposite direction, and we won’t see each other for several days. I really need that seal of approval from his pediatrician before I get on a plane which will take me hundreds of miles from him, you know?

Which brings me back to my wish, constantly articulated since they were young, that I could wrap them all in bubble wrap and keep them safe until the end of time. (This would also make them very fun to play with.) Last night I checked on Cam before I went to sleep. These days he is just so old: taller than I, lean as a whip, shoulders a little broader every day. But sleeping Cam? Sleeping Cam is still my baby boy, and my heart expanded three sizes to see him wrapped up in his blankets, the only parts visible being his long eyelashes, his rosy cheeks, and the somehow-vulnerable-looking back of his neck. I almost went downstairs for the bubble wrap right then.

He’s my first. He’s my oldest. When Addie J was learning to walk, I confidently put her in the middle of the room and allowed her to fall…. but when Cammy was learning, I hovered nearby: ready to catch him at the slightest wobble. I didn’t know if he would get hurt, you see. Cam had to teach me how resilient babies are. I’m still learning all my firsts from Cam: he will be graduating eighth grade in a few weeks, too, which seems crazy because didn’t he only just learn how to walk?

 

 


    2 comments to One Too Many Hits With the Snake.

    • Hallelujah! God is alone is worthy to be priesad! That song made me start singing and praising the Lord along with you. That is a very good song! Good job.

    • So by Lewis’ shitty criteria, our guiding example in life should be an unwashed lunatic who lives in the sort of filth even a hamster would find demeaning because he has a dream? So should someone who sticks up a giant dynamite stick every day in hopes of reaching the moon also be an example? Because that’s a more realistic goal than the mentally handicapped Arthur Kadyshes winning an Oscar or losing his virginity.

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