Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
“You are. Wow, look at you go, bud,” I reply. He’s got a big toothy grin on his face, dirt swiped across his cheeks and hair drenched in sweat. The Florida heat and humidity are already high for it being mid-morning, and come lunchtime, we’ll be relegated to indoors until the sun starts to set.
“Me go, go, go!” I’m standing in front of him, helping push while he kicks his legs back and forth. He’s not helping in the least. I don’t care, though. Hearing his little boy laughs, knowing the scent of sweat and dirt is coating his body, and he can’t so much as feel the insurmountable stress I’m carrying on my shoulders, it’s all worth it.
“You’re going,” I respond, my own smile bright and cheerful.
“No, no, me gotta go. I need to potty.”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, spurring into action and stopping him as soon as possible. The last thing I want is for us to cut our trip short, and while I have a change of clothes in the car, it’s still not the same in the clean way of things if he has an accident.
“You said shit,” Sebastian repeats after me.
“I did. That doesn’t mean you should.” I stop the swing, help him off, and because I’m not sure how long he’s been holding back telling me he has to go to the bathroom, I pick him up.
“I big boy. I say shit.” He’s on my hip. I’ve abandoned my bag with our drinks and snacks, more worried about my boy losing his will to hold it.
“Big boys and little boys don’t say bad words. Abuela wouldn’t like you or me using that word,” I pull out the big guns. This parenting gig doesn’t come with a manual on what to do and what not to do on the fly. Obviously, cuss words are a major no, but shit happens, quite literally.
“Mi Abuela,” Sebastian responds.
“Yep, she’s yours. Are you good for me to run? You’ll have to hold on tightly.” He nods his head, gives me that smile of his I love, and we book it. Thankfully, this playground has a restroom within view, and it’s also open. We’ve gone to countless parks where they’ll be locked and we’d have to find a tree. I’d maneuver it so my body was to anyone potentially coming our way and pray to God no one came from the other side.
“Run, run, run!” I take off. My hair is flapping in the wind, his doing the same, reminding me that he needs a haircut in the worst way. But it’s a struggle to get him to sit still. Sebastian wants to move and wiggle every which way. We’ve tried a few places specifically for children, and no dice. Sebastian and I both leave in tears, so I’ve taken it into my own hands. It’s not the best of what a professional would do. Yet at least doing it at home with him in my lap, he's able to remain calm and his hair isn’t in his face.
“I’m going, I’m going. You’re getting to be so big you’ll be carrying me before too long,” I say, becoming breathless with each stride I take. He’s got his arms hooked around my neck, my arm under his rump, and my other arm is pumping with the wind.
“I big, I big. I carry you,” he says loudly.
“Soon enough, you will.” I slow our pace as we make it to the stand-alone building.
“I will.” When we walk through the doorway, the light flickers on, and I see there’s only one big area, which works even better. I flip the lock in place, lower Sebastian to the ground, and he heads toward the toilet to take care of business. There are times I’ll have to help him up on the seat when he needs to sit. Sometimes it’s because he likes to, others are because he wants to, and when we’re at home, he’ll strip down completely naked only to go potty. I don’t question it, only telling him he can do that at home but not at school or in public buildings.
“You need help?” I offer, not knowing what business he’ll be doing.
“I do it. I big boy.” He stomps his feet to the toilet, and I keep my eye out to make sure he doesn’t make a mess of himself. It took me exactly one time to realize jeans are a pain in the ass when a little boy is trying to use the restroom, especially if we’re out and about like today. Needless to say, I only buy them and ask him to wear jeans when absolutely necessary. His outfit today consists of a tee shirt with his favorite dinosaur emblazoned on the front, khaki shorts, sneakers, and he’s absolutely slathered in sunscreen.