Saturday, March 17, 2012
I've been a little worried about him. He's lost weight he didn't need to lose, and--sometimes, when I'm driving him somewhere--he falls asleep in the passenger seat.
It's called Black Belt Training. It involves five karate classes per week, also miles of running and hours of studying at home. These things, of course, in addition to school...school band...Boy Scouts...Sunday school...church...and church choir practice.
It's too much, but it's been eight long years coming, and it's almost over. He passed his pretest today. He'll test before a panel of thirty judges on April 28th.
In the meantime, I've said "no" to everything I can. The two of us have even stopped, temporarily, staying for prayer on Wednesday evenings. I miss it like nobody's business but know he needs to rest with me nearby.
I don't know how to help him, sometimes, beyond pouring (as best I can) attention into him. We played Scrabble with Jim, tonight, and--when the game ended--I said to Cade: "I'll share my new box of crayons with you, if you'll color with me."
It touches my heart how he never turns me down: how, even after all this time, he wants me more than tv, Xbox, even books. I noticed, tonight: he's turning into a little man; he talks most freely when he's looking away. Tonight, he filled my ears while giving an ostrich lime and turquoise plumes.
And--when he finished--he said: "I love you, Mom."