I was never particularly fond of mornings. Looking back that seems ridiculous. I mean how hard was it to get only myself up and out the door? Mornings now, though, are torture. Someone should warn you before having kids that getting up before the sun lasts way beyond the baby years. And those little Energizer Bunnies don’t understand the concept of not speaking until you’ve had a cup of coffee.
Nope, Christian barreled into my room before the sun even thought about rising and he’s been going nonstop ever since, chattering away all the while.
“Christian, we’re leaving in two minutes.” I don’t know why I give him a warning like that’s somehow going to hurry him up. My three-year-old son has no concept of time.
I grab my books and laptop and shove them in my backpack running through a mental checklist making sure I have everything for school, and he has what he needs for a weekend with his dad.
“Don’t forget to grab your soccer ball in case you guys go to the park.” Highly unlikely but if he takes the ball, there’s at least some chance that Victor will feel obligated to spend some time with his son. I’m so far beyond subtle manipulation at this point.
“Alright let’s load up.” I heave my backpack on my shoulder and grab the soccer ball that I spot laying on the living room floor. I mean honestly it isn’t like I wasn’t going to have to carry it anyway.
Christian comes running out of his room, messy blonde hair and a smile that doesn’t understand his mother isn’t a morning person. “I need to pack some treats for Rex!”
“Already done. They’re in your backpack. Did you brush your teeth?”
Instead of answering he looks up like he’s trying to remember that far back. That’s a no.
“Come on, let’s brush them real quick.” I put my backpack and the soccer ball back down and he skips off down the hallway. I follow behind, picking up toys and dirty clothes in his path. I can hear the faucet turn on and then the unmistakable sound of him karate chopping the water with his toothbrush. I resist raising my voice, it doesn’t do any good, but gently correct him as I enter the bathroom. “No playing in the water. It makes a mess, remember?”
“It’s just water. It’ll dry.”
Fair point.
Wordlessly I help him brush his teeth, clean up the water with his bath towel, and then I grab my stuff again. It usually takes two or three tries to get out the door. I plan for this by adding a fifteen-minute buffer.
“Do you think Grandma Nadine will let Rex sleep in my room this time?” Christian asks as I head for the door, hopeful this time we’ll make it to the other side.
I bite back a smile at how much he loves that silly dog. I’m pretty sure she bought it just for Christian, but hard ass Nadine would never admit it. Christian loves animals. Always has, but it became a full-blown obsession sometime over the last year. We can’t have pets in our apartment building, but even if we could, there’s no way I could give a dog the kind of attention it deserves.
“You can ask her when we get there, okay?”
He nods excitedly.
“Daddy is coming down late tonight, so you’ll get to see him this weekend too.”
He races back to his room for a toy he has to take. I feel bad that he’s more excited to see the dog than his dad, but in his defense, the dog is far more reliable.
It’s less than an hour drive to my hometown where Victor’s parents, and my own, still live. When we arrive at Nadine’s house, she’s coming out the front door, Rex at her heels, before I can get Christian out of his car seat.
“There’s my favorite grandson.”
“Grandpa told me I’m your only grandson.”
“Did he?” She puts on her best fake disbelieving voice. “Well, that makes you even more special then, doesn’t it?”
She manages to get a quick hug before he wiggles out of her grasp and starts to chase Rex around the front of the house.
“Stay away from the road, buddy,” I call as I grab his suitcase and hand it to Nadine.
“Thank you.”
She waves me off. “Don’t need to thank me for watching my own grandson. We love having him here.”
And I know she does, but still, I’m thankful for the role she’s played in Christian’s life.
“The feeling is mutual,” I say as I watch my son run around carefree and happy. Kids are resilient. That’s what the doctor told me when I’d asked how being raised primarily by one parent would impact him.
Victor, Christian’s father, makes it down for a weekend about once a month to see him. As far as my son is concerned this is normal, he hasn’t gotten to the age where he compares his situation to others, but I know it’s coming. He’s in daycare and started preschool last fall and though he’s seen a diverse group of kids from all sorts of families, eventually my son is going to ask me the hard questions about his father.
Still, Nadine takes him every other weekend, even when Victor doesn’t come down, and she’s gone above and beyond what I could have imagined. The woman wasn’t my biggest fan when she found out that Victor knocked me up, but she’s never held that against her grandson.
“Congratulations on your play.” My gaze shoots up to hers in surprise. “I saw your mother at the grocery store. She’s very proud.”
“Thank you.”
She nods, and we stand there awkwardly.
“You want me to come get him on Sunday?” I offer.
“Nonsense. Bill and I will drive him back after Victor leaves, like we always do.” She huffs like my offering is the real imposition. "And besides, Christian likes to go to that pancake place in Valley so we'll take him for pancakes and then drop him off after. Unless you'd like to join?"
That pancake place is IHOP, but she refuses to call it by name, another Nadine quirk. I mull over her invite. I never know if the correct answer is yes or no. We have a decent relationship, but I don't want to intrude on her time. Christian races by me and I grab hold of him to hug him before I leave. "I think I'll leave the pancake party to you guys."
He bounces at my side. "Are we going to IHOP?"
Oops. I shoot her an apologetic look.
"Not until Sunday, but if you go inside, you'll find blueberry muffins waiting for you. Say goodbye to your mom first."
She takes a few steps toward the house to allow us to say our goodbyes.
“You be good for Grandma and Grandpa, okay?”
He nods once, but his eyes are already darting toward Rex. “Hey, look at me.” He does, albeit reluctantly. “I mean it. Listen to Grandma and promise me you’ll have lots of fun with Daddy when he gets here, okay? You can show him your new soccer skills.”
“What about you? You won’t have any fun without me around.”
My chest hurts at the idea he worries about me while he’s supposed to be having fun with his dad. “I promise to try if you do, deal?”
He smiles and bobs his head, and I step back. “I love you. See you on Sunday.”
“Bye,” he calls out as he runs toward the house. “Loooove you.”
I watch him disappear into the house before I get in the car, already missing him. I know the time he spends with his father and grandparents is good for him, but it makes for a long weekend for me.
The only silver lining? It’s Thursday, my favorite day of the week.