I've barely seen this child in the last three days. (This would be E--, midleap. We don't pretend that this isn't inherently risky. I've been trying to keep him grounded since he was 18-months-old. Parkour is a golden mean, sort of.)
I believe Jimmy John's and a couple of #6's are definitely in order. "Hey mom!" is not adequate for a parent/child relationship.
I miss the days when the only way E-- could fall asleep was if he were curled up, facing me with his tiny hands placed against my cheeks. He would stare into my eyes until his closed. We slept that way all night. I still adore him that way, but boys have to grow up, and moms have to get their degrees
(Yes, I'm in the library as I write this post. I'm sucking down another Rockstar. I've been living on Snicker's bars and apples. I'm rewriting my Astrobiology textbook before the final. I've got Bjork and Chemical Brothers on shuffle. I'll probably be here till midnight.)