I was snuggled up next to him last night asking him about his day.
“How was recess?”
“Good. I played by myself again.”
“WHAT? Why did you play by yourself?”
(Concerned mommy heart freaks out a little…)
“I like to. It’s kind of annoying to be around other people all day. I like to get the soccer ball before anyone else and practice by myself. I feel better when I do that.”
“Oh babe. I get that. Totally get that. So you aren’t sad when you play by yourself?”
(Just checking and double checking…)
“No way! I love it. I’m getting SO good at soccer. I can kick the ball, like, so hard now. Dad’s not gonna believe it.”
…and then he went on for 7 minutes about how good he is at soccer now.
…a month after ending what I thought was a tortuous first soccer season.
…turns out my little introvert didn’t like the game element, but loved learning the skills and strategy, and is looking forward to next year’s season.
So I listened and asked a few more questions about friends at school – memorized by his adorable way with words and camouflage footsie jammies.
Then he draped his skinny arm over mine and let it rest there. I could barely feel it, it’s so light, but I could feel, for a little sliver of time, all of him. I understood his feelings about school, and soccer, and friendship, and himself in one brief and precious exchange.
We said our prayers, exchanged our “love yous” and then I left. As is his way, just as I reached the doorway, he said,
“Love you mom. Good night.”
I love that he always says it again and just before I leave the room.
He is my absolute favorite son.