Boys and dads...

Because I am still at that high demand stage of motherhood where solitude is a rare delicacy, I love watching the boys grow more and more attached to their dad.  I'm sure that some day it'll cause me more angst.

I made cupcakes for Bryan's class for his birthday.  There was only one left.  He insisted on saving it for his dad (not, incidentally, his parent who woke up at 5:00 a.m. to make the cupcakes).

Jacob gets concerned about fathers in books and movies.  We read a book about three brothers on a quest to find a cure for their grievously ill father.  They meet all kinds of horrible obstacles on the way.  At one point, I asked the boys what they thought would happen next.  David and Bryan came up with some gruesome possibilities, but the worst thing Jacob could think of was that their dad might DIE (spoken in a grave and earnest voice).  We watched The Lion King the other day, and Jacob cried when Mufasa died.

Chris has been spending time with the boys individually.  He told Jacob he would take him to the batting cages.

Jacob:  (running inside, wildly excited)  Mommy, Daddy's going to take me to the batting cages (Jacob uses a lot of italics when he speaks).

Me:  That's awesome buddy.

Jacob:  What are batting cages?

Someday, too soon, I'm sure they're going to distance themselves from me in ways that are much more substantial, and I'll be crushed, but now, I see these boys, who were babies yesterday, idolizing this man who was a nineteen-year-old capturing my heart just the day before that, and it makes me smile.