Monday, October 26, 2009
Well, I do have another grown son to write about. He was the baby of the family for 16 years, until I had another baby boy at age 40. Poor kid, we always called him pet names like "Bubbles" and "Bobo" even when he was way too old for that. We couldn't help it. He was so silly and cute when he was little, and I guess we always just thought of him that way.
He is an artist, and pretty much independent of the family these days. There may be many reasons for this, none of which make me feel any better about it.
I knew things about my babies the moment I first saw them. I knew this boy was gifted. Well maybe it wasn't the first moment with him. It was a particularly rough delivery. I've had four c-sections, two good, two bad. They went good, bad, good, bad, which may partially explain the huge gap.
He was always obsessed with monsters and the dark side. He also exhibited his artistic creativity at a very early age. Even as a toddler he would make up puns and clever jokes, and sculptures with found objects. He loved to make things out of cardboard and tape. I would save all our recycleables for him in a big box. At birthdays and Christmas he would get rolls of tape. We discovered a special kind of scissors, after he broke several regular pair. We called them "cardboard cutters" and I think they were actually made for paramedics. We originally found them I think at American Science Surplus, one of my son's favorite stores. They had all sorts of weird stuff in there.
He really did make some amazing things out of garbage. He actually made a working pinball machine once. I think the balls were wads of rolled up masking tape...He also made really cute pop-up cards and never forgot anyone's birthday or Mother's & Father's Days. He was a sweetheart, with a soft little voice that I loved to hear sing. But he was also crazy and wacky and really funny. He was forever wearing some get-up. He'd have on a coonskin cap, sunglasses, armor, a backpack & moon boots, or some comparable attire.
Anyway, I also wrote a poem about him when he was a baby.
Fat-cheeked two-toothed little thing
Crawling at me like a maniac
What amazes me most
Is how you really need me.
Watching you know all
That you do
I feel you've always been here.
Einstein haired sweaty baby
Curling your toes in glee,
You may be
A budding genius,
My funny valentine.