Some People Do

12: Mahalo

SOOKIE

Whoever thinks moving with a baby is easy needs to have their head examined. Maybe six months ago when he was a newborn it might have been easy, but now? Now he's crawling and forever trying to chase down his two BFFs.

"Chance, where are you?" This time I'm not playing with him. We've got movers coming to help us get everything out of the condo and into our new house. I do not need them stepping on my eight-month-old adventurer. "I swear, we should have named you Chase instead," I say when I find him trying to crawl into the dog crate out on the balcony.

He screeches when I pick his chubby body up off the floor. Independent, this one is. I should have seen it coming. He was born on April Fool's Day, of all days. The c-section was awful, but even with my big hips he was too big to fit through. I really didn't want to have surgery but I wanted a healthy baby more. He refused to come out on his own, so my doctor had to go in and get him. Little stinker. He hasn't done one damn thing since that he doesn't want to do.

His teen years might kill me.

Assuming I survive his toddler years.

All I can think, most days, is that I am grateful I didn't have him three or six years ago. What a disaster that would have been. Not just for me, but for him. I wasn't ready back then. Some days I still question if I'm truly ready but I think most parents have those doubts. There are parents who have five kids and still question if they're doing it right.

The front door opens and in come the dogs, with Eric right behind them. He's gained a nice tan over the last year that he's been living in Maui with me. Things between us are really good. Better than they've ever been, actually, which is kind of amazing with all of the big changes that have come about. While I never technically asked him to move here to be with me, I think there was an implication of some kind. I also think he finally understood what I meant about when things are right, it doesn't feel like a sacrifice. I'm sure he never saw himself selling his business or moving across an ocean to be with me. Yet here he is, and he seems to have caught the Aloha spirit the same as I have.

We go surfing together all the time. He's way better at it than I am. We take the dogs to the beach, and we jog together. Chance loves the water. Doesn't matter if it's the ocean, the bathtub, or the kitchen sink. He loves getting in there and splashing around. The first time I gave him a bath after he was born I was afraid he'd throw a fit over it because most babies don't like to be cold and wet. Not my kid. I think he was actually pissed when we took him out of the bath. Go figure.

The box in Eric's hand suggests that he stopped at a place nearby for donuts, which is just fine with me since all of our kitchen stuff is packed up to go to the new place. I'm starving and I could use the sugar jolt. Mr. Chance was up three times last night. Finally, I brought him to bed with me so he could nurse at will. It's easier than getting up every forty minutes.

"I cannot wait to be settled in the new place," I say to Eric as he puts the donut box down on the counter in the kitchen. "I'm so over everything being in boxes."

I'm also over my curious baby trying to climb into the boxes.

"I know, I know. We'll be out of here soon and we'll have new places to pull Boo Bear the Second out of," he snorts.

"The fence around the pool is going to save my sanity," I say. Until he learns to swim, that fence is staying there. That's something we're working on already, actually. Baby swim classes are a thing. Who knew?

"Yours and mine too," he says. He leans down to kiss me quickly. "He's real lucky he's cute."

"Who knew you could love a twenty pound meatball so much?" I kiss my son's big head. He gives me one of his toothy grins and my heart melts a little. Those little bottom teeth poking up get me every time.