Several weeks ago we went to the beach and took Davis’s boogie board. He spent most of the time just throwing the board into the ocean and watching the waves return it to him. He did his excited dance, the one where he sticks his tongue out, jumps up and down, and flaps his arms like bird, every time a wave washed his boogie board back to the sand. At some point he agreed to lay belly down on the board and let his Daddy pull him through the water. When Mommy pulls Davis through the water, I take him in water that is about 2 inches deep, just enough to get the board moving fast. When Daddy takes Davis “belly surfing” he goes into water that is 2 feet deep. Well this time, at some point, Davis got tired and let go of his boogie. I stood and watched as he fell off and a wave washed over my son. I screamed, “Get him, get him, get him!!!” Of course, I couldn’t jump into action, I just stood there screaming like a maniac, watching these waves wash over his whole self. Immediately Tracy flung the boogie about 3 feet away from him, jumped into action and retrieved Davis from the grasp of the ocean. Of course, Davis didn’t cough, didn’t even sputter one bit. He was totally fine. I was not – my knees were weak and my heart was beating completely out of my chest. I suggested we go build sand castles after that and got no argument from anyone. Later in the car, I asked Davis, “So what was your favorite part of going to the beach today?” To which he replied, “Falling off my surfboard.”
Just about every night, Davis and Tracy walk over to the pool. Tracy is determined to teach Davis to swim before this summer is over. Sometimes I go with them, other times I take the opportunity to be by myself. A couple of nights ago was one of those occasions when I chose to stay at home. At around 8:30 pm the boys came back. I opened the door and Davis immediately looked at his Daddy with a sad face and asked, “Where’s Mommy’s flower?” Apparently he had picked a flower for me and had lost it somewhere on the way. He was devastated and refused to just not worry about the flower. So, Tracy being the good daddy that he is, put all the pool paraphenalia down and said, “Let’s go get Mommy another flower.” So off they went and were gone for about 15 minutes. Davis came back with the tiniest flower in his hand. He was smiling from ear to ear, so proud of himself. I hugged Davis and told him thank you and how much I loved the flower. He smiled a bashful smile and ran off to play with his Daddy. It made me realize just how fortunate I am – not only to have a son who loves his Mama enough to pick flowers twice in one night, but to have a husband who loves his “Baby Mama” enough to walk across our yard, two parking lots and another yard twice to the pool, the only place where those particular flowers grow, to let his little boy pick those flowers for his Mama.
About a year ago I asked Davis what he wanted to be when he grew up. He told me he wanted to be Davis. This past school year, because of talk of careers at his school, he told me he wanted to be a doctor. He hasn’t wavered from this decision for many months now. A few days ago in the car we were discussing his career choice, so I explained that their are different kinds of doctors and asked him what kind of doctor he wanted to be. He told me he was going to be a foot doctor. So now we are learning the word podiatrist.
Interestingly enough as I am sitting here typing this I am remembering that all through high school, I told one of the smartest kids in my graduating class (Brad Markowitz) that I was going to marry him b/c he wanted to be a doctor. Well, wouldn’t you know it, I found out through facebook, that sure enough, Brad is a doctor and of course is married to a beautiful girl and has a family. I certainly don’t regret not marrying Brad Markowitz, not one bit. I am thinking that maybe I just had my men mixed up. Maybe I have always known there would be a doctor in my family. I just hadn’t met Davis yet.
A couple of Sundays ago our friends Paul and Obea invited us to go to the pier to listen to a band. I asked Davis, “Would you like to go hear some music?” Davis, being the music-lover that he is promptly replied, “YES!” I then asked, “What kind of music do you want to hear?” He said, “The violin.”