Tuesday, November 22, 2011


Brenden has become obsessed with the idea of "being bigger." He's anxious to be able to do all the things that we've told him he's not old enough or not big enough to do. If I want him to eat something or to go to bed all I have to do is remind him that he has to eat his veggies and get lots of rest if he wants to be like daddy.

He likes to tell me all the things he'll be able to do when he's bigger. "Mommy, when I get bigger I'll be able to lift heavy things for you." "When I get bigger I can drive the car." "When I get bigger you'll let me drink pop." This morning, we were driving to school and once again, he piped up from the backseat.

"Mommy, when I get bigger I'm gonna be in the Army."

And then my heart skipped a beat. Would I be upset if my son decided to serve his country like his dad, grandpas, uncles, great grandpas, cousins, etc? No. But the idea of where our country could be at that time, what war we could be fighting, scares me to death.

"What would you do in the Army, bud?"

"I'd go to college!"

"That's awesome! What would you do after college?"

"I'd get out of college."

I guess I need to explain the whole purpose of college a little better. 

"What do you want to do when you grow up?"

I thought he'd tell me he wanted to drive a tank, like daddy, or wear Army clothes. 

*whispers* "I'm gonna be the Blue Power Ranger."

And then all was right in the world again.

We're both going to enjoy him being little for as long as possible.

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