Just Me and My Boy

I feel pretty sheepish about posting this blog post after declaring Leif to be my favourite child the other day because, in all honesty, I do not have a favourite; he just happens to be the easiest to get along with right  now, and so . . .  well . . . okay . . . so yeah, he is my favourite . . . at the moment . . . tee hee! But . . . yeah . . . um . . . well . . . okay, just because he is my favourite does not mean he gets special treatment, or does it? Oh my goodness, I should just end this right here.

Anyhoo . . .

At 3am, I heard Harriet cry out for me. I ran into her room, assured her I was there, and as I curled up beside her, I realized she was feverish. Ugh. I took her out to the living room because by this point, after giving her some Tylenol, she was wide awake. I put Paw Patrol on for her, and then I lightly snoozed on the couch beside her, as she nudged me awake whenever an episode would finish. When my alarm went off to wake up the boys, I discovered that Elliot was sick too. Double ugh. I think, at this point, it is safe to say that our house simply needs to be quarantined for public safety. Just say'n.

Leif, however, woke up chipper as usual, and since Elliot was home and I could leave Harriet with him, I decided to take him to school even though I am pretty sure I could have nailed an audition for the Walking Dead at that moment. As I was putting Leif's jacket on, he seemed concerned that Harriet was nowhere to be seen. I assured him that Harriet was going to be okay and that she was just staying home because she did not feel well.

Really? You mean, it is just going to be me and you this morning.

Yep.

Yay!

And then he skipped out to the van, singing:

Just me and my mom. Just me and my mom. Just me and my mom.

Is there any doubt as to why he is my favourite . . . er, for the moment. tee hee!

During the entire drive to preschool, Leif continued to comment on how special this morning was because it was "just me and my mom". And it got me thinking: since Harriet was born, Leif and I have had very little one-on-one time together. In fact, ever since Leif was born, he has been lumped into a collective, which is apparent from the pet names I chose for him: Thing 4 or the wee-est Webster. Once Harriet came along, they became a package deal. Now, I have not gone so far as to call them Larriet or Heif  . . . yet,  but I do refer to them as the dynamic duo, the dastardly duo (depending on how I feel about them at a particular moment), the two under two crew, the babies and my minions. It is never just Leif, and since I found out he is going to school in the fall, I have been thinking more about Leif as an individual. He is NOT simply one of the babies; he is Leif Christian Webster. Oh, and since I tend to use my blog as a public confessional for all of my motherly transgressions, you should know that I, literally, forgot he was Leif Christian Webster the other day, while I filled out his kindergarten registration form. I kid you not. In the space to enter his full name, I wrote:

Leif Derrick Kurt Webster

Then, I paused - something did not seem right. That was Avery's middle name. I wouldn't have used the same middle name for Leif, or would I? Well, much to my dismay, I had to retrieve Leif's birth certificate to find out his middle name. Seriously. Ugh. 

Anyhoo . . .

I am not very good at doing mommy dates with my kids, and so this morning, I decided to change that. Leif was so thrilled with our 11 minute drive to school that I figured he would really lose his mind with an actual hour or two. Just before I left to pick Leif back up, I put Harriet down for a nap and told Elliot to listen for her. Then, as Leif was preparing to leave preschool, I whispered in his ear:

Do you want to go on a date with just mom?

YES!

I am going to take you to my favourite burger place.

McDonald's?

Oh, how I wish I could insert emojis into the blog because the rolling eye emoji was created for this very moment.

Nope, but I will show you.

The St. James Burger and Chip, Co., 

aka the home of my favourite burger of all time: the Perogy cheeseburger.

It is heavenly! And yes, I finish it off every single time.

 

So, over some super delicious burgers and a couple of pops, Leif told me all about the sword game he played with his friends Bryer and Oliver at preschool that morning. When asked how you play that game, he replied:

Well, you kill other humans to get their buried treasure. 

Right. Why did I ask?

Then he showed me his magic skills by making the bouncy ball, which he had earned from Teacher Suzan for cleaning up ten times without complaining, disappear. We made faces, we laughed at each other trying to eat our ginormous burgers, and in between Orange Crush burps (his name for them), he tried to see his orange tongue without a mirror. But even more special, in between all those moments of silliness we shared, there were a lot of quiet moments, moments where we just sat side by side, enjoying the sun streaming through the windows, watching the planes fly in for a landing at the airport, nearby, listening to Ed Sheeran on the radio, and in those moments, it truly was just "me and my boy".

And because the gods were clearly smiling upon us this afternoon, after we checked out some books at the library just before we returned home, the librarian gave Leif a handful of balloons for him and Harriet to share. 

Day made.