Archive for the ‘The Kids’ Category
January 11 2012
My daughter was snacking heartily from a bag of cheddar Goldfish crackers. This after complaining she was hungry, even though she had just finished lunch. That girl can eat. She reached in, fishing for another. Kindly, she offered it to me.
“You hungry, Mommy?”, Abby asked.
“No, thank you. You can eat those, they’re for you”, I said.
Abby was unsatisfied with my answer, however. She continued standing before me stoically, searching my facial expressions for any signs of impending weakness. Surely, my mind would change. My daughter was determined to give me a damn cracker. A 3 year old enabler.
“Fine”, I relented. “I’ll take just one. But only one.” Because there’s always room for at least one Goldfish.
“OK, just one”, my daughter cheered, opening the bag wide enough to fit her head inside. Then, a single cheesy cracker fish swam into the palm of my hand. And then another.
Those fish, they just kept swimming uncontrollably.
Before I knew it, I was holding on to a handful of small orange Goldfish, with a little girl pushing more into my mouth. When I clearly remember specifying I only wanted one. Just one. The magnificent powers of persuasion. Not to mention a really cute kid. Then, half the bag was gone. How does that happen?
January 05 2012
We were led back to the radiology department, but first Jedi needed to change his shirt. You can’t wear buttons for an x-ray and the doctor wanted to make sure the wheezing in his chest wasn’t any more serious than the need for an asthma inhaler. As such, he first had to disrobe into a gown. The sight of which flashed back to when he spent a week in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit.
I helped him remove his button-collar shirt and went about sifting through the stack of familiar hospital gowns for one in blue. For a boy who is growing ever more concerned with his appearance, this still bordered on disastrous. I at least wanted him to have his favorite color, though nothing would have been enough to make it fashionable.
“Oh this is embarrassing”, Jedi whispered as I tied the strings in back.
“It’s fine. Look, it’s blue!”, I tried to reassure.
With a sigh, we went to sit to wait his turn. An attempt was made to take his mind off the necessary style catastrophe, but he wasn’t about to be swayed. A marked difference from when he was at the hospital in August 2010 and didn’t even notice what he was wearing, or really where he was.
“This shirt is terrible”, my 8 going on 16 year old sulked. “It doesn’t match my pants. It doesn’t match my socks. It doesn’t match my shoes. It doesn’t match my face. It doesn’t match my personality.”
Later, Jedi admitted, “You know, this shirt is kind of comfortable”, as we’re getting ready to go home. “But it’s still terrible.” And it was, but garments are easily changed and forgotten. It’s the memories that catch you.
January 04 2012
Dearest Buzz,
You start a new school today. Because no one wanted to listen to me.
It’s not my choice. I would have preferred you stay at the school you’ve known, with your brother by your side, at least until the end of this, your first, school year. Your progress there has been amazing, surpassing my expectations. They taught you how to write your name, and beginning words. You know your letters and can count to 100, though you skip a lot along the way. It’s the little things that most your age have known how to do for awhile but you’ve struggled with. And now you’re learning. Not just learning, but loving.
In switching schools after you’ve just begun to feel comfortable, I’m afraid that will change.
I also know, however, how you’ve surprised me in the past. You manage to work in mysterious ways. You’ve taken actions in stride after I’ve already braced against the aftermath. You rise and you fight, even when your fear is palpable. I left you crying mercilessly on the very first day of school, I’m terrified I’m going to leave you the same again. It breaks my heart to do this to you twice.
But you are strong. And you are bright. And you’re going to do wonderful. I know change is hard to understand, but I’m trying to do what’s best for you, even when it’s not my favorite choice.
Although if you want to raise hell just for the first few days, you have my support. I’d kind of like to say I told you so.
With so much love,
Your Mom
December 23 2011
Untitled from c (kid things) on Vimeo.
Merry Christmas!
November 30 2011
Earlier this week the kids made their Christmas lists.
Well, Jedi wrote his. I penned what Abby told me. Which went like this:
1. Dolls
2. Princess toys
3. A duck
4. A doll that looked just like Abby
5. Drawing stuff
None of it very outlandish and most of it were suggestions from others. Aside from #3, which she came up with all on her own. A duck? I laughed, remarking then that I didn’t think Santa would bring her a duck, but I put it on the list anyway.
A short while later, it was time to get ready for bed. Which has turned into Buzz’s cue to stall for 20 minutes in the bathroom. As we were giving him his privacy outside the door, Abby began to whine. At first I couldn’t understand what the problem could be, since she was safely held in my arms. Her complaint soon began to register, however.
“Santa hasn’t brought me a duck yet”, she whined softly.
“He what? Listen…”, I continued letting out a light chuckle before trying to explain. “It’s not time for Santa yet. He doesn’t come around for another month. But remember, I already said he probably won’t bring you a duck when he does come.”
But I was mistaken. Because Buzz opened the bathroom door at that moment, taking to heart the true giving spirit of Santa Claus. “Here you go, Abby”, he offered, handing her a rubber duckie from the bath bucket. “Quack, quack.”
