I am such a WASP, I am not even sure what Fat Tuesday means. I think it has something to do with wretched excess before the fast. Sam also is not truly versed in the concept, but his favorite sentence of late is, “And ME”. Sam asserts himself and takes a stand by telling me that whatever the big boys are getting he should get some too. Sometimes, all that means is an opportunity to take a bath, clean up their rooms, or get a timeout, but darn it, he wants to be included. I watch as he runs when Alex runs, and jumps when Zach jumps. I worry sometimes that he will just be the little lamb following the rest of the flock…..and then I see it. His Sam-ness surfaces like some extraordinary sea creature cresting the waves. I was making meatballs tonight, to go with our spaghetti and salad. I figure if at least one element of the dinner is actually made from scratch then it can still qualify as a decent meal. And considering I am a vegetarian smooshing ground beef together with parsley, parmesan, and bread crumbs in order to get my boys to eat their dinner, I think I have some karma points coming my way.
So anyway, I am up to my elbows in hamburger and listening to Rosanna, by Toto, off the computer when I glance down and see Sam doing a little boogie with his fingers up in the air like a bad combination of John Travolta and Elaine Benis. Where do they learn to dance so poorly. It must be genetic. I hate to admit it, but I can’t even keep rhythm in a step aerobic class. But it isn’t the awkwardness or the ineptitude that floors me, it is his passion. He is so fervently in the moment, shaking his tiny hips and shooting his fingers in the air, ala, Annie Oakley. So once again, surprise…surprise, I am being taught by my children. Listen to the song. It is pretty cool…..with a beat you can dance to (albeit in a rather awkward manner), but still….you can dance to it. And I should do that far more often than I do. Listening to the music around me keeps me here, right now. And that is where I need to be.
love to you,