Good Morning, Ma!

That's how Aaron greeted me this morning. He's never initiated greetings of any kind. He doesn't really even like to respond to them. So this was a big deal. These moments that Aaron springs on us are both exciting and bittersweet in a strange way, if that makes any sense at all, like any milestone with our other kids maybe. I guess it's a sign that even Aaron is growing up and gradually growing away, which of course is what we want, but those moments always feel even more profound with him. Reminds me of the Karen Kingsbury books Let Me Hold You Longer about how we notice all the first with kids but seldom notice the lasts. I guess with Aaron we notice those changes more and are a little sad maybe, but really excited that he's made such a huge leap for him. Like when we had to take Kate (our foil daughter which he made because he couldn't talk me into providing him with a real sister - "It's really easy - You just go get them at the hospital" - Yeah, right!) complete with beach wardrobe - hand me downs from Michele - to Galveston last year. All the kids were slightly horrified that they were having to help cart their "sister" around, but then shortly after that, we found Kate rolled up in a ball and set aside. With no fanfare or warning or anything, Kate was no more. We'd had her for several years by this time - she was even in our church directory pics - I know people thought we were strange, but that makes for a neat memory now. Michael and Michele were in Green Bay for a month and when they came back to find that Kate was gone they were really sad. We all were, but we knew it as a huge growing-up thing for him too. I know - we're all CRAZY! But back to the greeting of the morning. I responded to him with something with a "sweet" in it because that's how I refer to all my kids except him when I'm thinking clearly (sweetpea, sweetie, sweet-whatever - they probably all hate it, but are too nice to say anything). Aaron doesn't like sweet or nice anything because "it's yucky". But instead of getting upset with me, he said, "I'll just pretend I didn't hear that." So I say "I'm sorry." And then he says, "You don't have to be sorry." Maybe you have to be really familiar with Aaron for that to seem like a big deal, but trust me, it's a big deal. It seems like since we've always tried to join him in his world when we can, he's trying harder all the time to join us in ours. I just had to share, and I know at least Genny's always up for a good Aaron story. And this may be the only way I ever keep a record of those moments. I never seem to have time to stop and write them down.