Her Green Baby

July 21 2010 · comment 13 Comments
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: ,

At first, she was like MacGuyver with a minimally damp wet wipe and a green crayon. It took me a few minutes to realize what exactly Abby was doing. Then I noticed her clumsy hands fumbling to wrap the cloth around the colorful stick. When that didn’t go as intended, she carried her items to me in earnest. “Baby!”, she shrieked.

All of the dolls sitting untouched and she’s babying a crayon.

I played along and swaddled it convincingly enough. She then held the crayola stick tenderly by her face. Until her “baby” fell out of it’s enclosure.

Maybe her father could do better, I’m sure she expected, so she tried to get him involved in the game next. She walked up to him and demanded, “Daddy! Baby!”.

Clearly not paying attention, he wondered, “What?”.

“She wants you to wrap the crayon up like a baby”, I told him flippantly.

“Why would I wrap a crayon up like a baby?”, he asked, bewildered.

Why is the sky blue? Why does ice cream taste so good? Why do the kids go batcrap insane an hour before bedtime? Why ask questions? It is what it is. “Because she wants you to.” He should’ve known that answer by now. What more of a reason do you need?

Though I don’t know what he was complaining about. I’m the one who was later forced to snuggle the “baby”. All he had to do was wrap it once in a wet wipe.

An Experimental Approach When All Else Fails

July 20 2010 · comment 10 Comments
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: , ,

Buzz has a tendency to run amok. He is high energy, that kid. I was hoping it was something that would miraculously fix itself at daybreak on his 4th birthday, but he’s still going strong. He finds any opportunity he can to dart away, out of arm’s length, and simply laughs when I try to call him back. He keeps me on my exhausted toes.

He has speech class on Thursday afternoons. We sit in the waiting room and while he can be antsy, he’s usually patient enough. This last time, though, he was everywhere. Trying to run out the door or weave between chairs. Or simply anywhere away from me. I’d get up to chase him when all other options failed and immediately felt as if I transformed into “that” parent. The one who doesn’t have a handle on anything. The one who should give a call to Nanny 911. It’s bad enough when he’s on his worst behavior at home, but it’s so much worse out in public.

I could have focused on this and been upset, with him and my inabilities. It wouldn’t have been unheard of. Instead, I’ve been making a more conscientious effort to say please and thank you. Positive reinforcement in lieu of negative admonishment. There in the waiting room, after holding him back yet again, I forced myself full of affirmation. Because God knows the alternative wasn’t working.

Thank you for turning around. Thank you for keeping me on my toes. Thank you for your energy. Thank you for your smile. Thank you for showing me a different way. Thank you for those brief moments to catch my breath. Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for being my son.

Now, PLEASE, sit down and stop it.

It Calls to Me by Name

July 19 2010 · comment 12 Comments
Posted in: Daily, Favorites · Tags:

It starts first thing as the sun rises through the window blinds.

“Mommy!”, she whines upon waking.

I walk in to lift her up, good morning. “Mommy”, she whispers softly. Not long after, her brothers stumble in, too, crowding around me in the chair with bed head and sleepy eyes. Elbows and knees poking into sides. “Mommy, what day is it?”, Jedi asks, curious. “Mommy, how many days until the weekend? Mommy, I had a dream. Do you want to hear about my dream, Mommy?”

“Mommy, I’m hungry”, they demand in a rare form of unity. I fix waffles or pancakes or omelets. Some days, when it’s already too much, it’s merely Pop Tarts. I fill three cups with milk. It’s briefly still while their mouths are full and then it begins again.

“Mommy, he’s hitting me! Mommy, make him stop! Mommy, she scratched me!”

Mommy, help. Mommy, sit. Mommy, boo-boo. Look at this, Mommy. Buzz is a bear, Mommy. Mommy, come here. Can I play video games, Mommy? How long until Daddy comes home, Mommy? Mommy, what are we having for dinner? Can we watch Toy Story, Mommy? Come watch with us, Mommy. Mommy, what are you doing? Do you see my belly button, Mommy? Mommy, I’m thirsty again. Do you remember when we went to the zoo, Mommy? Mommy! Hey, Mommy! Even when they don’t say it in so many words, it’s there in intention, pulling in three different directions.

It doesn’t halt until they’re tucked in bed. When I have a few minutes left to just be me.

Squirrel!

July 16 2010 · comment 12 Comments
Posted in: The Kids · Tags: , ,

Buzz has an utter fascination with animals. From penguins to turtles to bears, oh my! Even when those animals are tree-climbing, garden-wrecking rodents. Thus, when I looked out the window and saw a squirrel, standing still as a statue on its hind legs perched in our direction, I tempted fate by calling Buzz over. I hoped for the best case scenario, which involved a cute little critter and a giddy little boy, but knew deep down as soon as I announced a word the nut-hoarder would most likely move.

“Buzz! Come see the squirrel! He’s so cute! Aw… look!”, I naively proclaimed.

It was a simple few feet jaunt, but of course by the time he made his way the squirrel was seeking it’s next land to conquer, ready to run. Buzz caught a quick glimpse of a bushy tail before it hopped itself out of view. Consequently, my son’s faced turned down. His lips began to pout. Tears welled in his eyes. The cries burst forth.

“Squirrel, get back here!”, he called after.

I tried to turn his attention elsewhere. We have blocks, we have books, we have movies. None of it mattered without a squirrel friend. The squirrel I hyped so adamantly.

“Where’d it go?”, he demanded in sobs, distressed.

And then, just like that, he mentioned something about a bunny.

I can’t help you there, kid. Though I’ve learned my lesson. If I do happen to see a bunny, I’m not going to tell him unless it’s trapped inside a cage.

Sometimes Losing is Winning

July 14 2010 · comment 12 Comments
Posted in: Daily · Tags: ,

When I was a kid, all we had were board games. I’d play with my mom or brother or whoever else I could prod into a game. I preferred playing with my mom, because on most occasions she’d let me win. Jedi has been raised in the digital age, however, and our house is full of tech gadgets. Most of what he plays are against computer opponents. Even the classics of my youth have been reinvented electronically.

Nothing takes the place of an actual board game, though. Of time spent gathered around a table as a family, rolling real dice in your hand and moving legitimate pieces. Which is why J bought the true version of Monopoly after Jedi had taken a particular interest in the iPad edition.

Game on!

Jedi vs. J, the matchup was set. I acted the important role of the money-hungry banker, which consisted of, but not limited to, keeping bills out of Abby’s grabby hands. Unfortunately, by the time we were ready, it was only half an hour until bedtime. Anyone who has ever played Monopoly knows that it can’t be appropriately played in a half hour.

Luckily, Jedi had to use the bathroom when it was almost time to call it quits. Which gave J an opportunity to make a swift deposit of all but 8 of his dollars to the bottom of Jedi’s cash pile. Technically cheating, but for a good cause. On J’s next turn, he landed on one of Jedi’s properties. The cost was more than J had, which meant the bout was over. Jedi “won” his first real game of Monopoly, with high-fives and fanfare. Because I’ve come to appreciate that in parenting, sometimes losing is winning as well.