grilled-cheese-memories

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Lately, S1 has been on a grilled cheese kick.  Because he is homeschooled, he gets to make his own lunch.  Over the summer he got a hankerin’ to try a fried bologna sandwich so I told him how.

I did not relish the idea of smelling bologna frying.

He is now some sort of grilled cheese master.  The other night when his Daddy arrived home late from work, he made up a grilled cheese for him to eat with his bowl of chili.

I was watching him making grilled cheese this afternoon and smiled to myself thinking of when I was pregnant for him.

Andrew at One

Back then, back when he was barely a bump in my tummy, I craved grilled cheese.  There was something soothing about eating them and I devoured them.  I also ate speghettio’s (I cannot even stand the smell of them), craved Kraft Macaroni and Cheese (I have to be starving to eat that now), and hot dogs.

It just so happened that the summer I was craving hot dogs there was some hot dog scare and no pregnant women were allowed to eat hot dogs so I had to go to a small town butcher and buy his homemade ones there.

I couldn’t stand the smell of bacon.  There was one day that in a fit I sent Jake out to the grill to cook bacon because the smell made me feel so nauseous.  Bacon, people.  I always figure you can add bacon to just about anything.  And, now, S1 loves himself some bacon.  I sometimes save the bacon grease to fry up potatoes in and that is one of his favorite side dishes.

But the worst thing about being pregnant for S1 was that I couldn’t drink coffee.  And in case you think I was some kind of new mom freak of a pregnant woman (which, looking back, I am sure I was), I literally would gag on it.  The smell would make my eyes roll in disgust.  I would make sure that as soon as my husband made a pot he immediately turned the coffee pot off so I wouldn’t be able to whiff any at all.

I was so happy to hold my new itty bitty son and was looking forward to drinking coffee again.  The pot brewed beautifully and the rich aroma swept over me.  I poured the beautiful liquid into my favorite mug, stirred and took a wonderful, long awaited sip.

I spit it out in the sink.

I loved the smell of coffee again, but couldn’t stand a sip of it.

It wasn’t until I was pregnant with S2 that I found coffee delicious again.

Now, I take my eldest son to the coffee shop and explain to him how to order coffee.  He likes it, but it is a learned art so I am starting him off the way I began my coffee love affair…mixing hot cocoa with coffee.

Andrew, me, biggby

It’s a grown up thing to do and it’s a special thing we have between the two of us right now and I am loving the moments.

It’s hard to believe when I look at his six foot self towering over me that he was once my little baby, the smallest of all the boys born.

He’s as tall as a man, strong as some men, and he is still my little boy.  Well, in my heart.  He happens to be tough enough to do all kinds of work he figures I am much too weak for (keeping the wood fire burning, for example).

It’s a weird mix to be proud of the man he is turning out to be and missing the boys he used to be.

me and andrew

This weekend he is off on a youth group outing.  Gone from a Friday to a Sunday with a bunch of teenagers and our youth leaders.  Do I trust him?  Yup.  Did I give him a huge speech before he left?  Yup.  Am I going to sit here all weekend worrying over him?  You better believe it.

Maybe I’ll just go make myself a grilled cheese sandwich.

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