Your Mama Was A Microwave.

For the past four days, people have felt the need to make comments to me, in my Heathen's hearing, that I wish they wouldn't.  

"Another teenager in the house.  Look out!"

"Good luck with a new teenager!"

"Will you survive another one?"

And I've chuckled and made the socially acceptable responses.

But the truth of the matter is, I'm EXCITED for Heathen #2 and the next several years.  He's no longer a baby that needs to be cared for every second of every day simply to survive.  He's no longer the impulsive toddler that must have his hand held constantly.  He's no longer the little boy that left for kindergarten and asked me that first day if I thought he was smart enough to go to school.  He's not even that "boy" anymore.

I still see flashes of each of these ages in my Heathen, almost daily.  He is still the infant, that in an instant of uncertainty, he needed a hug and asked me if he could have a second one as soon as the first ended.  He is still the toddler, that in an instant of nervousness looked around the room until he found me standing and grinning at him and I saw him calm instantly.  He is still the little boy that wants to be smart enough, that when he brought home a medal and announced he made it to states asked me, "Do you think I can do it?"  And these little pieces of the small boy he once was are the things that, as a Zookeeper, make all of the laundry and trips to the grocery store worth it.

But he's turned the magical age of THIRTEEN.  The next few years will truly start to show me what he will become in the future.  The clay project that I started years ago is starting to take shape and harden, and I'm curious as to what he will become.

When Heathen #1 had a birthday a few days before, Heathen #2 saw my Facebook post that said Heathen #1 brings me happiness.  And he asked me what he brings to my life - doesn't he bring me happiness as well?  And I grinned, and as the evil Zookeeper I am, I told him he would have to wait for his birthday to learn what he brings to my life.

Here's what I posted the day of Heathen #2's birthday:

"Happy 13th Birthday to Heathen #2.  You are not an "easy" child - but that is because of your strength of personality.  It will serve you well as an adult.  You never fail to amaze me in your search for dedication to fairness - especially when so often it is not your own cause that you are championing.  You will my life with laughter, which is more valuable than money,  You make me a rich Momma.  Happy Birthday, Heathen.  We love you."

Later that day, he asked me if he truly brought me laughter.  And I asked him, "Who sat in the car with me the morning of your birthday and argued about whether you were holding up 13 fingers when people ask you how old you are or if you're only holding up 10 fingers and 3 thumbs or 11 fingers and 2 thumbs (depending on the appendages used?"  And he grinned, and walked away.  But the walk looked a little more confident.

On Saturday, we had lunch at a local restaurant.  Right inside the door is one of those claw-machines, where for 50 cents, you can attempt to grab a stuffed animal.  My Heathens (and the Asst. Zookeeper) love them.  If the Asst. Zookeeper has one dollar bills in his pocket, they magically find their way into those machines - and the Heathens know it.

Heathen #3 managed to snag a stuffed dolphin, but was the only successful one.  After eating, Heathen #2 got one more shot at it, but still came up with an empty claw.  As we were walking away from the machine, from behind me I hear, 

"Whatever.  Your mama was a microwave." (directed at the claw machine)

Yes, Heathen #2, you bring my life laughter.  And, in a world where things can seem to go so wrong so often and people are so serious so much of the time, that is a very valuable thing to bring to some one's life.  Happy Birthday, Heathen #2.