T's Birthday

T will be turning twelve this week. Twelve. Where in the world has time gone? I'm beginning to feel really guilty that I selfishly scheduled my trip to San Francisco during his birthday. Initially it was the only time I thought that I could not miss baseball and use my free round trip ticket and if we celebrated before, it would be OK.

I'm beginning to second guess that, but it's a done deal.

Friday night T and I celebrated by going to his favorite restaurant, a Japanese hibachi restaurant where he has gone for his birthday for the past five years or so. Afterward, we went to a local paint a pot where he painted a dog and I painted a baseball bank for him. Then we went home and hung out and I gave him his Wii gifts. We then played the Wii Outdoor Challenge together and enjoyed each other's company.

Saturday I had invited JA and her family over to play games in the evening along with JC. It wasn't for T's birthday, just a mere coincidence. I did make a delicious carrot cake at T's request and we sang Happy Birthday and JA's family and JC had both bought gifts for T. It was more than expected. T wrote thank-you's and thanked them for coming to his party. Poor Kid. It wasn't a party. I had asked if he wanted a party or something special and he came up with nothing. I just thought a game night was in order, so maybe it's a good thing that he had fun if he considered it "his party".

T knows that I will be going out of town, but didn't really realize that it would be during his birthday. He is less than enthused to be staying with his dad for five nights. While this is definitely less than my Europe trip, he seems to still have issues with me going away. Saturday night after company left, JC, T and I played the Wii until about 1a.m. when I finally sent T to bed. He woke up about 6:30a.m. and then went back to bed after using the bathroom when I heard him sobbing. This is something T has done for years. I think he works himself up so that I'll come to him, rather than coming to me.

I went in his room and he said, "I had a horrible nightmare!" between uncontrollable sobs. Not really knowing if I should ask him about it or not, I did ask if he wanted to talk about it. He went on to say, "My dad shot you!"

Poor kid. I tried not to laugh. Clearly I know that his dad isn't fond of me, but that he would even show the remote amount of energy to dislike me and shoot me? Yeah, that's unlikely that he would exert undue attention to something so meaningless to him. Regardless, T was distraught. Maybe I'm oblivious or naive. But after all they are dreams for a reason, right? T fell back asleep and slept in late Sunday morning. He must have needed it!

***On a side note of dreams. The other night I dreamt that JC was a manufacturer and dealer of narcotics. I found out as I came in his house to clean up from yard work and was greeted at the back door by six narcotics officers. JC was at work. Bizarre. Even worse, that morning I read in the paper about a drug raid that had occurred the night before on a college campus and a young man had been shot. Odd. Coincidence? Are dreams really more than the subconscious?