Thats my boy

My pregnancy was a surprise. (actually both pregnancies were a surprise) My daughter was only 4 months old when I found out that there was another baby yet to come.  I remember crying a lot. I was terrified. I only barely knew how to take care of one kid, and now there would be two!
Happily, that second pregnancy was so much easier, labor and delivery was easier, and he was just an easier baby. (that girl baby was a doozie.) 
He has always liked being with me. If I was cooking, he wanted me to hold him (which I mastered beautifully).  If I was folding laundry, he was in the middle of it, but he was happy about it, so I didn't mind much.  Even now, 8 years down the road, he likes to at least stop by the kitchen to see what's going on and ask if he can help or if I need a "taste tester".  He isn't as involved with the laundry. Its a battle we fight often.  One of the things he has recently become interested in is menu planning. Each week, he likes to add a few meal requests to my list, and I am happy to oblige.  Last night, for example, he wanted meat loaf with mac and cheese.  I whipped it up (along with some super healthy zucchini and tomatoes to balance it out) and he was -as he always is- very complimentary. 

Then something else happened. I impressed him. -- and that is the real reason for this post. I want to tell you about my success.  So... going back to a few days ago:  I found Avery sitting on the tailgate of his dad's truck. Just sitting.  I asked what he was doing, and he said he was waiting for the neighbor to come play (the neighbor is a really nice kid in his 20s).  Evidently, Avery had asked if he wanted to play catch, and he said he had a few things to get done and that he would in a little while.  So Ave waited. I told him that I would play catch with him, and he quickly turned me down.  I (half joking) said, "why? because I'm a girl?"  To my surprise, he said, "well, yeah, basically."  wow. thanks, son. 
I would not be seen as a girl. Not to this whipper snapper. No sir.
This brings us to last night.  After my impressive dinner, I bravely walked outside to where Avery was riding his skateboard and told him - not asked. told.- to go get the baseball and ball gloves and I would play catch with him. 
"Really. Mom. Really?" he said with contempt. "Yep. go get 'em." I said, standing my ground with confidence.
He did. He came out and zinged that ball right at me. No time to think. But I didn't need to think. I snagged that ball right out of the air (I jumped at least 4 feet off the ground) and whizzed it right back at him. 
A huge smile spread across his face, and he said, :"Wow, Mom. You're actually pretty good."
"Yeah, Ave. I can throw a baseball." I replied victoriously. 
He was impressed, and we had so much fun. I was even willing to ignore his hysterical laughter as I ran down the street chasing his wildly thrown baseballs. 
He's a cool kid. He's a happy surprise.
And I have to run, there are scouts calling.