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"Are you gonna stop playin' with her?" Jimmy asks, tucking his basketball under his arm.
"If you're gonna start lettin' me play ball with you guys, I will."
I didn't even stay to hear the rest of the conversation. I ran into my house, through the back door, and straight up to my room. I cried to my mom about what I heard and she soothed me the way any great mom would, assuring me that everything would work itself out. I had her turn Ty away both times when he stopped by that weekend, and then on Monday I ignored him all day at school.
Monday night I was playing in the yard and Ty came stomping over. "What's your problem? You ignored me all day," he said.
"You said I stink," I yelled, fighting back tears.
"Huh?"
"I heard you tell Jimmy that I stink, and then you said you'd stop playing with me if he let you play basketball with him." I began to cry. Using my fists, I furiously wiped my tears away. "So go away, Ty, we're not friends anymore."
His eyes widened. "But I punched him for you."
"You what?"
"We were playing basketball and he kept talking bad about you. I got mad, and then he called you ugly and I punched him. I came to your house to tell ya, but your mom said you couldn't play."
I stood there staring at Ty. I wasn't sure what to say. I was mad that he said I was stinky, but I was glad that he punched Jimmy for talking bad about me.
"So you forgive me? I don't wanna play with Jimmy and his friends. I wanna play with you," he said, sitting down on the swing next to me.
"But you said I stink."
"I'm sorry, Harley. You don't stink. Now do you forgive me?"
"Yeah," I replied. "I forgive you."
"Good. My dad says I’m gonna mess up a lot since I’m a gonna be a man, so you gotta promise you'll always forgive me."
"Okay, I promise. As long as you always apologize, I’ll always forgive you."
Damn my nine-year-old self.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
September in the Midwest usually provides fairly mild weather, and Max and I have been taking full advantage. Sunday flew by as we spent the entire day hopping from park to park, ending our adventurous afternoon at the local sno-cone stand.
Beep Beep Beep
My parents think that I spoil Max, but isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? In all honesty, I’ve harbored feelings of guilt for the past five years toward the way I reacted about the news of my pregnancy. To say that I was devastated when I found out I was pregnant would be a severe understatement. I know…I know. Everyone told me that it was expected for me to act that way after such a traumatic experience. Blah, blah, blah. But what bothers me most is that for the first six months of Max’s life, I was completely disconnected from him.
Beep Beep Beep
Sure, I would feed and change him and see to his basic needs, but that was pretty much the extent of it. It sickens me when I recall how many times I laid Max down or put him in the swing, just so I wouldn’t have to look into his eyes—the eyes that are the mirror image of his father's. I allowed my past and my insecurities to keep me from forming that mother-child bond right from the start. It took me a long time to forgive myself for that, and I hope that one day Max will forgive me too.
Beep Beep Beep
It nauseates me to think about all of the precious moments that I didn't allow myself to have with Max, and that is exactly why I treasure every single minute with him now. I understand that I can’t get those six months back, but I sure as hell can try my damnedest to make up for it.
Hence the spoiling.
Beep Beep Beep
Swiping the talk button, my phone connects to Bluetooth. “Jesus! Can you not take a hint?” I yell.
