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Amy L. Jenkins RN BSN MS Developed and presented an ongoing six session class Choose Your Life: Wellness and Weight for Alverno College Telesis Institute. Education 2000 - University Journalism classes ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Amy Jenkins' profile, homepage, picture, and other writing projects Big Apple Parent--New York MetroParent--Milwaukee Washington Familes--DC Western NY Familes--New York Three PM By Amy Jenkins Standing at the doorway of the school, he begins the search for me. As his eyes find me, his face turns from solemn to delighted. It’s the same look he gives the train at the Zoo. As soon as he finds a path through the other kids and parents, he runs over and jumps into my arms, simultaneously telling me the news of the day. “I got to be the helper today. Michael sat next to me. I missed you.” Quick kiss. “Trina threw-up and it smelt really bad. I learned the Stegosaurs had a brain the size of a walnut, no wonder they’re dead.” On his especially spirited days, I know to get my footing, because while he is airborne he yells: “Monkey hug!” as forty-four pounds of delight slam into me. He lands at my waist, and wraps his legs around. I have to put him down quickly, because my arms can’t contain his joy. We have other routines too, In the morning, the rule is, it has to be light outside, before he is allowed to wiggle in between his parents for a morning snuggle. He giggles and says nothing as he adjusts his smiling head on the Lion King pillow that he has brought from his room. His sleeping face has lost its baby fat. His long dark eyelashes almost touch the freckles that are scattered over his cheeks and nose. The nose is no longer a little round button, but a boy nose with a tip and little flares to the nostrils. A fountain of dark blonde hair spews out of the crown of his head. He will want me to brush his hair when he wakes up, because “Dad can’t get the sticking-up part to go down.” When he speaks, his baby teeth are beginning to look small between his full red lips. “I’m going to wear my snow pants today, so I can play wild at recess. My hair looks good, thanks.” After his breakfast with toast, fruit, and Rug Rats cartoons, he’s off to school for seven hours. We are reunited again at three p.m. Today he is in the back of the line. His eyes meet mine as we smile our jubilant smiles, and wave. There are so many reunions between us that there is no clear path. He runs around them all, choosing to scale a huge mountain of snow, keeping his eyes on me and a smile on his face up the eight foot summit. As he crests the top, he breaks his gaze with me and takes inventory of his position. He is king of the mountain. He jumps up and down and gives the snow bank his joy. By the time finishes and makes his way to me, I am awarded only a casual greeting. I’m tempted to feel disappointment and remember Andrea, and her progression away from me. By sixth grade she always seemed angry, although “nothing” was ever wrong. She didn’t want to be seen with me: “Drop me off a block from school.” Her Jr. High news of the day: “It was fine.” She has finished high school, is weeks away from tech school graduation, and is about to move to her first apartment. She forgets to greet me most days and is ready to be out on her own. She loves me, and we will discover our adult relationship after she has established her own territory. Looking down at DJ, I understand that we two, are on a similar journey. My job now is to find the same joy in watching him jump in the snow as when he jumps into my arms. My job also is to find him more snow banks to happily conquer on his path away from me and toward adulthood. But tomorrow when I pick him up, I pray he’ll jump into my arms one more time. Amy Jenkins copyright 2000,2001,2002 All rights reserved
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Aslett and Cartaino offer advice on creating a writing agenda and a "getting published action plan."
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