That would be me...the socially inept one. I will be the first to admit that I suck at social situations. I prefer to busy myself when in the midst of a large group of people. I hope to God that nobody asks me a question. And if, God forbid, I am caught sitting next to someone I've never met...well...can you say 'awkward'? That's me. If and when I open my mouth - it's not long before I find my foot in it.
I have found three common things happen to me whenever I do choose to try to look normal and join a conversation in progress. I either:
1. try to say something serious and everybody thinks I was trying to say something funny...so they laugh at me. Then that takes me back to deep rooted issues of...well, never mind, that's another blog.
2. try to say something funny and people just stare at me and we all sit there awkwardly as I begin counting ceiling tiles. Or...
3. try to make small talk - which I'm HORRIBLE at! I so don't do small talk. I can talk about major life issues, but I CANNOT talk about small, non-important things.
So, as you can tell...I'm a ball of joy to talk to when you first meet me.
Tonight, one such situation presented itself and I pulled a 'typical Cori'. We were at a party and were surrounded by many people we did not know. The one person I did know introduced me to her friend. She also gave me a morsel of information that I could possibly use in my attempt to 'small talk' with this new person. She told me that 'new person' used to live in Texas. Well, what do you know? What a small world, I did too! Well...we must obviously have a connection of some sort, right?
So, 'new person' told me that her husband actually used to be Texan. I found that an odd thing to say 'used to be'...like he has since changed allegiances. We have a saying in Texas, "Once a Texan, always a Texan" (as if there wasn't already enough Texas pride). Since her statement was odd, I chose to pursue it. This is where my social ineptitude comes out in full force.
I say, "What do you mean your husband 'was Texan'? He doesn't want to associate with Texas anymore now that he lives here? Her answer was short, "No, he died."
Sometimes I'm such an idiot. What kind of come back does one have when they have just tried to make a joke about someone's dead husband? What was I to say? I search the room looking for anyone to help me here. Everyone has conveniently looked away. I have to respond. The clock is ticking and everyone can hear it. How can I save face here?
I ended up finishing off by asking how he died. I then sat there for the next 15 minutes talking about death while at a birthday party.
I'm happy to report that I was successfully able to evade any further conversations the rest of the evening.
How glad I am that I don't have to stand up in a crowd and 'blog aloud'. I'm thankful for this medium for those of us who are so socially inept we end up making fools of ourselves.
Should 2 year olds already be exhibiting signs of OCD? That is just one of the many questions looming in my head as I head off to find a new pediatrician.
Chloe has become quite the little 'Monk'. Of course, as her parents, we find it hilarious since we often exhibit many of the same symptoms. In children, it's cute. In us adults, we have to give it some type of disorder name. Thus...OCD. I prefer to refer to it as...intense love of cleanliness and efficiency; or maybe even...one who takes great delight in spatial orderliness and symmetry. Either way, it is so funny to see these blatant signs of OCD manifesting itself in a two year old's body.
Here's how we know the mantle has been passed down to her:
1. Chuck made waffles for the kids' lunch the other day. After Chuck had poured the syrup onto each plate, he mistakenly left it sitting in the middle of the table with the lid wide open. How in the world is any rational, clean, obsessive person supposed to just sit there and eat comfortably while something is out of spatial order??? Chloe was acting extremely irritable and uncomfortable until she could no longer stand it. In her still slightly unintelligible grasp of the English language she tries to convey her dislike of the syrup lid being left ajar. Yet how is one who does not yet know the word 'lid' and 'ajar' supposed to convey such an important message? Easy - you whine. You whine loud and hard and you point and make as many gestures that annoy the heck out of everyone around you until they finally figure out what you mean. Once Chuck was able to replace the lid to its rightful spot, Chloe let out a huge sigh of relief and merrily continued with her lunch.
2. I took my flip-flops off in Chloe's room as I was putting her to bed tonight so as to make it easier to cuddle. We said our prayers, sang our song, and gave our kisses. Some time later, say 30 minutes or so, I hear her consistently calling my name. It sounds more like a chant, "Mommmmeeeee, Mommmmeeeee, Mommmmeeee." It never lets up. She is persistent, relentless, in for the long haul. I try, in vain, to ignore her for the entire time I hear the chant. I think to myself, "She has to learn to go to bed." However, she finally wins. I figure, "If I just go check on her, maybe I can quickly solve whatever problem seems to be bugging her." As I poke my head in her room, she sits up and points over to my shoes and says, "Mommmmeee, fip fop, me room, nooooo." In other words, "Mom, how could you be so careless as to leave your flip-flops in here? We all know I could never fall asleep with those things lying askew in my room. Please take care of the matter instantly." And so I did. I never heard another peep from her.
Thus, one can now understand our new term of endearment for our sweet daughter, our 'Little Miss Monk'. It is said with utmost affection...as well as much understanding on our part. As the saying goes, "You gotta be one to know one." I hope that's how the saying goes. I'm not very good at reciting sayings properly. Just smile and nod pretend you know what I'm talking about...the kids always do. Humor me - that's the best way to appease those of us exhibiting extreme signs of OCD.
How can you turn a peaceful, serene, undisturbed plot of nature into chaos? Simple…input the my family right into the middle of it. That is what happened to our poor mountain this past Saturday. It experienced us in full.
Since the day was perfect, Chuck had the ingenious idea of going for a little hike after dinner. We were all thrilled with the prospect. We rushed through dinner, got our dirty, grubby clothes on (not because we wanted to look like poor people, but because we didn’t feel like getting our normal clothes dirty), and bounded out of the house in search of a nature adventure. This was going to be good – we could feel it.
However, before any fun hiking could be had, I insisted we fumigate ourselves with an entire can of ‘Bug Be Gone’ – or some such variety. I sprayed hard and long. Anything that had a nose was going to be sure to stay a safe distance away from us! A mother has to do all she can to protect her brood from such evils as ticks, mosquitoes and whatever else that may lurk in the woods and feed upon the blood of unsuspecting hikers. Our fumigation session culminated with me dispensing such wisdom as, “Okay kids, DO NOT lick your face. It has poison on it.” That didn’t sound right, but they believed me and off we set.
Next, we drove down to the ‘starting place’ (if there is such a thing as that) for where we would commence our hike. Oooo this was going to be fun! We were all giddy. Excitement filled the air. There was a small field we had to cross before we got to the foot of the mountain. To my utter joy, this field had recently been mowed. The reason this caused such happiness to befall me was because it brought back such fond memories of childhood that I had to stop and immediately share them with the family. The hike could wait – its memory lane right now.
Okay troops, listen to this story…they all stopped and stared at me, squinting as if the sun were in their eyes. When Mommy was a little girl, my favorite thing to do was to take all these grass clippings and make houses out them (in a blueprint looking form). I thought they would think I was ingenious, brilliant, had come up with the world’s coolest activity. As I’m talking, I’m gathering handfuls of grass clippings and neatly arranging them into the latest housing design that just popped into my head. I’m lost in my own little world reminiscent of decades gone by. When all of the sudden I hear laughter. What, I wonder, could be funny about my design? Then I saw it, they were making a mockery of my grass clippings by gathering handfuls and throwing them at each other….boys. To each his own, I guess. My trip down memory lane was cut short, when we ran out of grass clippings.
So now, here we are at the start of the woods. We walk gingerly along the narrow path. Gavin, the self appointed leader, Bennett, insisting on being second, Chuck behind them and Chloe and I walking hand in hand. Since she is so close to the ground, she notices every single little thing on it and stops every few feet to pick ‘it’ up and show me. I was hoping this would be a discovery adventure for the kids, just not every few feet. When suddenly, we come to a fork in the path and have to make a choice. Do we go up (at an unimaginable – and in my opinion – very unsafe incline) or to we continue on our level course?
The boys outnumber the girls in this family. In other words – risk and excitement normally beat out caution and sensibility. Being that this was a family event and that I wanted to be with my family, I relented and climbed 75 degree angle of a slope set before me. Have I ever mentioned before that I’m deathly afraid of heights? Well, I am!!!
Another plus for us, is that our bug spray is definitely working. All wildlife within a mile radius of us has instantly scattered – that includes other human beings. There was not a one in sight. This concerned me a bit being that I might just be falling down a mountain soon and was hoping someone would be within earshot to hear my piercing screams. Man, why did I put so much bug spray on? At least I didn’t have any gnats blocking my vision as I’m clawing my way up the side of the cliff.
So here we are – on our fun, family outing. Bennett is the leader this time. This is only because he is the one who is most likely to slip and we would rather have him up in front of all of us so that when he does we all tumble down like bowling pins…er, I mean, so if he does, we’re there to catch him and brace his fall. So, guess who Chuck puts behind Bennett – ME! Oh great! Don’t look down, don’t look down, is all I can keep repeating in my head. Then there’s Gavin behind me – louder than all get out. That kid is so LOUD. Between him and the bug spray, I think we’ve scared away even the ants. At the end is Chuck who has my sweet, precious little daughter wrapped like a tortilla around his back. She spends much of the time screaming about the hair that is in her eyes. But Daddy is holding onto her hands for dear life so as to keep her positioned on his back at just the right angle, so my poor dear is unable to brush the stray, ticklely strands of hair out of her line of vision.
Whilst attempting to scale the beginning portions of Mt. Everest, Gavin decides that it would be a good time to tell us about the powers of his latest imaginary super hero he just created – at the top of his lungs. When he gets excited, he talks even louder. I’m thinkin now is not the best time to show me all his creative abilities. Survival is of utmost importance to me right now. I yell at him to “PLEASE be quiet and save your story for later!” yet being ever so careful not to damage or scar him emotionally. I go on to explain that my outburst comes out of self-preservation, not any dislike of his latest superhero.
Bennett turns out to be a phenomenal leader. He takes his Spiderman abilities seriously. He was grabbing every root and rock available and scaling the hill at an amazing speed. He didn’t once slip. And because I was following my fearless leader – neither did I. Once we reached the top and looked down, a wave of nausea hit, my legs turned to jello and I had an overwhelming feeling of free falling. Thankfully, Chuck was hanging on tight to me and reminding me to breathe.
I was SHOCKED! My entire family made it to the top of a mountain. I conquered my fear. We had fun!
On the way back down, I was once again explaining to Gavin why it’s important to not talk so loud in the woods (or anywhere in public for that matter). I told him he needed to be aware of his surroundings, ever on the lookout for ‘things’. That, of course, prompted an obvious question, “What kind of things, Mom?” Oh, just like, BEAR and stuff. I of course am freaking out about the possibility of running into anything living (I am so not the outdoorsy type). I’m looking up in the trees, thru the dense underbrush, and every few seconds I stop and do a 360 scan of my immediate surroundings. You would think I had Special Ops training under my belt. If there was a bear, I would be the first to know. Nothing was going to surprise me on a fun family outing.
Meanwhile, at the same time of having to deal with ‘the loud talker’, Chuck was having to deal with ‘the whacker’. Bennett constantly was picking up sticks, many 3 times his size, and whacking the first tree that was in sight. We obviously have a lot to turn about hiking etiquette. Chloe on the other hand, is ‘miss naturalist’ and not afraid to touch anything. We found her wandering over to a hollowed out tree decaying in the woods and poking her head into it. Great! Chloe, don’t you know the dangers of what could be lurking in a hollow tree? Well, I don’t either, but it can’t be good.
On we trek, the end of our little hike is drawing near. When all of the sudden, my watchful eye spots something. I feel like I have the powers of Gavin’s latest superhero “Eagle Boy”. He has laser vision you know. Well, my vision was ever so keen on this hike. Thankfully, everyone halted in mid-step when I froze like a statue and whisper-yelled, “STOP – LOOK OVER THERE!!” To our joy, we were within only a few feet of a doe. She looked right at us and kept on eating. We watched each other in awe for several minutes and each continued on our way.
Not only did the kids learn not to be loud or whack things or fearlessly put your head in miscellaneous hollow logs on our hike, but we had the joy of teaching them numerous things. We got to touch and see moss growing on the north side of the tree, we learned how to tell which way was North, South, East and West, we learned about conifer trees having needles instead of leaves. Bennett can now spot a Robin and we learned what it’s song sounds like. We listened to the quiet of the woods and felt it’s cool breeze. We learned how to work as a team and do something very hard but very rewarding. That’s my favorite thing about my family…we learn together, we have fun together, we cry together, we laugh together.
Thankfully, we didn’t all see a bear together – then this story might not have ever been written!
Once upon a time there was a little boy who never ceased to surprise his parents with his endless array of silly expressions, faces, phrases and noises. This little boy's name is Bennett. He is 4 and on the fast track to a career in stand up comedy. He has a captive audience every day. Even when he's trying to be serious, he's funny.
For the past several months, his latest phrase of choice has been, "Boom, Baby!" You can hear this in response to any number of situations...let me expound...
At any given time on any typical day, one may hear this expression escape the mouth of the aformentioned child in response to any of these possible scenarios:
Mom: Bennett, that is a very cool lego creation you just made.
Bennett: Boom, Baby!
Mom: Bennett, are you ready to go to the store/park/pool/library?
Bennett: Boom, Baby!
Gavin: Hey, Bennett, let's play superheroes.
Bennett: Boom, Baby!
Mom: Good game Buddy. You beat me in checkers again.
Bennett: Boom, Baby!
I have also heard him use this phrase to pump himself up when trying to build up the courage to walk over and say 'hi' to a cute girl he may see across the room.
And wouldn't you know, now he's got Chuck and I saying it everytime we turn around. We are finding out that there are many perfect uses for that saying throughout the course of our normal day. That shouldn't be. We are the parents, we should be rubbing off on him. Isn't that the 'normal way'. I guess that's just one more reason as to why we're not 'normal'. Boom, Baby!
You know how only a Mom can interpret her child's 'language' when they are beginning to attempt to speak in what they think is our language? Well...that's kinda the premise to this little story.
I've been working on Chloe to try to get her to respond to my requests in a more polite manner. Her current method of "NO!!!" is getting a little old. So, my latest quest in the teaching of my very strong willed two year old has fallen short of nothing less than an all about battle of the wills. Often, hers is stronger than mine - depending on the time of day.
My latest tactic on this front is to try to stop the "No's" dead in their tracks. In place of "No" I am hoping to hear something more along the lines of "Yes, Mommy", or maybe, "Yes, Mam". I'd even settle for just a simple "yes", even if it was just a whisper. Anything that is not accompanied by a shrill, whiney, "NOOOOOOOO" and violent head shaking will do.
If one of the 'acceptable phrases' is not uttered, the all powerful timeout will be employed for the eternity of two whole minutes. Enough time should then elapse for my young love to see the error of her ways and thus, with mournful repentance and a new appreciation for her mother's discipline. induce her to say, "Yes, Mam." Do ya think that would actually work in this house?! How about...No.
Now, instead of the blatant "no", I get a passive-aggressive "unh-unh" muttered quietly under her breath. I'm not about to let my two year old play mind games on me - I'm onto her ways. So, I ask her, "Did you just say no to mommy?". Well, now I've just put her between a rock and a hard place cuz she knows she can't say 'no' to me without the perilous timeout, so she just looks at me with those innocent eyes. So, being the bigger person here, I decide to re-phrase my question, "Honey, what are you supposed to say to Mommy?". Well...she knows the answer to that one...you can see her face light up and a huge smile cross her face as she says excitedly, "YES HAM!!".
Thankfully, I'm her mother, so I know she's not subtly trying to call me a pig. I know this is not a passive-aggressive form of rebellion. Rather, this is my sweet daughter showing me some respect. What more could I ask for?
For some reason though, I have a feeling that Chloe will continue with this 'title of respect' throughout her more formative years.
Okay...you so don't want to be our new realtor! My family should come with a warning sign. It should read something like this: We are crazy, we are weird, we often talk to ourselves or all talk at the same time. Several of the younger members often stink quite badly. They also tend to embarrass us with a particular bodily function that we have no control over. If you are to interact with our family in any way - be prepared to laugh, cry, read alot of Dr. Suess, hear many strange, new noises, hold your nose and eat alot. That should be an adequate disclaimer, but I'm quite certain there will be multiple addendums.
So, why all this legal positioning with a family disclaimer? Well...being that we have just moved half way across the country, we've decided we should probably find a house and who better to help us than a realtor? The poor guy never knew what hit him from the moment we were introduced. First of all, he was subjected to riding along in our minivan while perusing through the city in search of new housing. Second of all, we brought the kids along for a full day of house hunting. I would highly advise against this for those of you thinking that it would be a fun, family activity. It's not. And lastly, we have Bennett with us. We are all well aware of his propensity to have poopie problems. He is still in rare form.
At the VERY FIRST house we stopped to look at, Bennett declares, "Mom, I need to go potty." Knowing what lie ahead, I chose to wash my hands of the future mess before it even began and advised him to go talk to his Daddy about it. Of course he had to go poopie and of course he couldn't hold it. So Chuck asks our unsuspecting realtor if Bennett could possibly use the bathroom in this yet unfinished house we were touring. Since it had plumbing and a toilet, it seemed like a good idea. Not.
First, we had the problem of no electricity. So, do you think Bennett would actually close himself into a tiny little powder bath all by himself with the lights off - NO! Even though the entire family is used to witnessing his bathroom habits, we didn't wish to initiate our realtor that quickly. We prefer a slower and more subtle approach when meeting people for the first time and trying to leave a 'good impression'. Well, we can say goodbye to whatever good impression we were hoping to leave. Second, we had the tiny problem of no toilet paper. Thankfully, Chuck was quick on his feet with this one. He remembered a wad of Sonic napkins we had on the dashboard and sent Gavin out to fetch them. Of course, Gavin came back with the entire wad and of course, Bennett used the entire wad.
After we all waited for what seemed an eternity, Bennett was finally done. Shirt was tucked in and pants pulled up far above what most consider 'normal'. Out of habit I asked, "Honey, did you flush?". He gets that fake, confused look on his face signaling that I caught him red handed. He goes back and tries to flush but instead yells, "It won't flush, Mom." This in turn, yields 'the look' from me to Chuck, meaning "you handle it". He braves his way into the bathroom only to find that the plumbing looks to be hooked up, but, ha! what do you know - it's not!
How in the world are we supposed to explain this to our realtor?!? I have no clue what Chuck said, because I was busy changing Chloe and her poopie diaper out in the van. I figured if I left the premises, I could pretend all this wasn't actually happening. I changed her and left the diaper in the car with the doors shut - not the best choice I could have made.
So, I head back into this potential new house only to see Chuck heading back out looking rather agitated. I could only comprehend bits and pieces of what he was telling me but I gathered it wasn't good. It went something like this, "...toilet...no water...can't flush...no water...ARGHHH, BENNETT!!" Come to find out,the plumbing was indeed there, but water was not turned on yet. Chuck went to our realtor, tail between his legs, to inform him of what was going on...like he didn't already have it figured out?!
The guy is very cool under pressure. He gave us his best, "No problem" smile and called the guy who owned the property and gave him a head's up suggesting he might want to get some water turned on before their next showing. Can you believe our realtor actually got back in the car with us? You'd think he encountered problems like this everyday. Well, problem number two was about to be discovered.
We all pile back into our beloved minivan only to be accosted with the diaper aroma left over from Chloe. I forgot to bring it in and look for a trash can. A trash can was the least of my worries when I'm more concerned with how to get my son's 'deposit' out of a brand new house. So, we chunk the diaper to the back of the van so we can 'spread the wealth' and so it's not sitting directly under our realtor's nose.
The one bright spot about our second poopie problem is that it helped us to push aside and somewhat forget our first poopie problem. No family should have this many poopie problems!! The kids were up in arms about how bad it smelt in the car. Thank God for your random trash cans in random parking lots. We drove through several parking lots before finding one where we could unload our 'package' and finally breathe clear again.
Okay, so we're the first to admit we're not ones to leave the best first impression. Despite ourselves, our realtor has continued helping us and for that we are extremely grateful!
Yesterday, the kids needed to be reminded one too many times to not do something that they already knew was off limits. Thus, I had to initiate 'the discipline'. That's always the hardest part. We don't believe in the 'one discipline fits all situations' method. The consequence has to fit the offense and it has to be uncomfortable enough that it reminds the kids that it's a better idea to listen to and obey their parents.
After much deliberation, I decided that sending them to bed an hour early would adequately get the message across. As I was tucking Bennett in, we were discussing why he needed to go to bed this early. He told me, "Mom, I think the problem is that I was thinking too fast. I didn't mean to that." I wasn't the least bit upset with him. But I was astounded with his deduction.
I then went to tuck in Gavin. He told me, "Mom, Bennett was right." He went on to explain that he had been listening outside the door as I was talking with Bennett. He said, "Mom, I think we were thinking too fast - cuz if I had been thinking slower, I would have taken the time to think about the consequences of my actions on others."
The discipline was already working - or, rather, God was already working on their little, sensitive hearts and teaching them the lesson in a way they could understand. Not only did he teach them, he taught me through them.
Next time I want to react to a situation or a person, I need to remember to 'not think too fast' and slow down and consider the consequences of my actions. Thank you boys, for teaching me, yet again, how to listen and learn in every situation.
I never cease to be amazed by the shear amount of questions my children can generate. And that's just during lunchtime. I see either one of two things happening in the near future: 1) I need to eat lunch with a dictionary in one hand and a complete, unabridged encyclopedia in the other, or 2) I need to not eat lunch at the same time as my children.
Since I'm typically the only adult in the room with them, they naturally think I have all the answers to the millions of questions that seize their tiny brains at any given moment. I tend to be either overwhelmed by the magnitude of the question, stunned by the depth of the question, or trying to suppress a grin because of the innocence of the question. And to think my sweet proteges are adding to their brain cells based solely on the information I provide while eating our peanut butter sandwiches...it's enough to make me want to go back for my master's degree...okay, not that bad - but it does bring me to my knees and remind me that I MUST rely on God for all my answers. I'm shaping the way they see their world. What an awesome responsibility!
All that to say...here are the latest, greatest questions I have received (or at least the ones I can remember)...
Bennett asks very nonchalantly, "Mom, do all kids grow up to be Mommy's and Daddy's?" Whew - easy answer. "Most of them do, Honey." But that didn't seem to satisfy his curiosity, so he tried to rephrase his question, "No, Mom, I mean, do some kids die before they can grow up to be a Mommy or Daddy?" Okay, that's a whole other ballgame. Does he really need to know the harsh reality of this world? Sensing that he wants to dig deep and know the honest truth, I tell him, "Well, unfortunately, some kids go to heaven before they get the chance to grow up....But you won't be sad cuz you'd be in heaven with Jesus; only the people left would be sad cuz we wouldn't get to see you till it was our turn to get to heaven. But you don't have to worry about that right now Honey, okay?" He seemed satisfied with my answer and assured me that nobody would have to worry about him. He said, "...okay, good, cuz when I get to heaven, I going to go ask God, 'God, can you make me a superhero now so I can go back and help people and they won't be sad?' and then nobody will be sad, Mom." Hmmm...I'm still shocked that I never saw the whole 'superhero angle' coming.
Next it's Gavin's turn to stump me. Out of nowhere he asks, "Mom, when all the people are gone off the earth, will it be extinct?" What???? I don't know that I can wrap my brain around that question. So like any good philosopher, I ask him a question in return. "Honey, where will all the people go?" As if I hadn't seen the obvious, he patiently replied, "Mom, they'll all be in heaven." Ohhh - I see. All I can manage to say upon opening my mouth is, "Honey, did you read that in Narnia?" "Ya, it said......" Thank God!!! He saved me yet again. This line of questioning had indeed stemmed from reading the Narnia series. Thankfully, I could use my ignorance to my advantage here since I have no recollection of the story.
And lastly, after watching a movie that featured a two-headed dragon, Bennett wanted to know, "Mom, if dragons have fire in them, why don't they burn up?" Thankfully, that just involved a little bit of chemistry and I was able to adeptly explain that the fire wasn't actually fire until it came out of their mouth's, it was just a gas inside them.
My job is done for the day. I have fielded every question that has come my way (even the one about how to make lemonade that I thought should have been a simple answer) and have lived to tell about it....simple questions - in our house, that is an oxymoron.
You guessed it - this is not the "Mommy" who usually runs this blog. The "Daddy" has been asked to write a brief synopsis of two recent conversations with our sons superheroes.
The other day Superhero #2 asked me why I had to go to work. I advised him that all daddies have to go to work to get money so they can buy things for the family like a house and food and stuff. I also told him that one day, when he grew up, he too would have a job and would have go to work and be away from his family.
He was quick to correct me. He said, "No, Dad. When I grow up, I'm going to be a Superhero. I'm not sure what type of costume God is going to give me yet, but I hope its cool." Apparently he thinks God anoints superheroes.
This next story pertains to Superhero #1. A couple of months ago, I went to a neighborhood Homeowner's Association meeting and had my little helper with me. One part of the meeting was a talk given by a police officer regarding starting a local neighborhood crime watch program. About half way through the officer's talk, Gavin whispered to me: "Daddy, if they wanted to talk about crime prevention, why didn't they ask me? I could have talked about fighting crime." I said, "Well, that's because you don't know anything about crime prevention, right?" He looked at me in shock. With disgust in his voice and wee bit too much volume, he said "Uh, Dad. Yes I DO! I'm a superhero!"
I'm not looking forward to the day when they realize that they will not actually become superheroes when they grow up. But for now, I love their hearts.
Romeo, O Romeo, wherefore art thou?
I found him...he is Bennett. And he is only four years old.
That sweet boy has stars in his eyes everytime he sees a girl. She could be older or younger, it doesn't matter. What matters is that she is a girl. He gets the most adorable grin on his face. He just can't wipe it off. He will just sit and stare at a girl he thinks is cute.
Now, he has already given his heart to one girl. He fully intends on marrying her in the near future. But...that hasn't kept his eye from wandering.
The other day we were at the pool. When all of the sudden such good fortune fell upon him. Five little girls come giggling in his direction. What luck! Then all of the sudden the all jump into the pool screaming and laughing.
One little girl catches his eye. She is the youngest of the group, probably 4 or 5, and is wearing a purple bathing suit. I think it was love at first sight. Afterall, purple is his favorite color. He just got some new, purple swim goggles that he instantly fastends on and darts over a little closer to his new love. He then proceeds to stand there and stare at the group of girls for probably 10 minutes. I guess he was formulating his plan of action...how best to infiltrate the group.
He has decided that the best course to take would be the 'look like a fool and make them laugh' strategy. So my sweet little flirt begins his routine. He stands in the middle of the group and hits his head with his hand while simultaneously contorting his face into what he believes to be the most hysterical look he can find. The last bit of his act entails him slithering down under the water all the while, hoping the girls are laughing at the entertainment he has just provided.
At least I was laughing...so hard, I had tears running down my cheeks. He was trying so hard to impress these little girls. I thought it was so funny.
Meanwhile, Gavin has no clue that anyone else other than himself and his imagination are in the pool with him. He is spinning webs, flying through the air and snorkling the depths of the ocean. His imagination is vast, enjoys solitude and sees no need for girls.
But Bennett...he LOVES girls. When I was tucking him in that night, we were talking about our day and I mentioned to him, "You like girls alot, don't you Sweetie." To which he gets stars in his eyes and a look of pure joy came across his face. He smiled real big and said, "Yes! I like girls." But then a moment of contemplation came over him and he continued, "I REALLY like girls, but I don't always like their Mommy's and Daddy's. Especially the one's with crinkily hair. But I like Grandma."
Today at lunch we were having a nice enjoyable time eating when out of nowhere, Gavin decides to inform us of his future career goals. I have NO IDEA how this frame of thought originated or even why he was thinking this far down the road. Evidently, having a plan is very important to him. So as not to delay the inevitable, here's where my son sees himself, say...in the next 15 years.
And I quote...."Mom, when I grow up, I want to be one of those guys that drives the garbage trucks with the green down the sides of it. You know, he's the one who picks up the recyclables. I'd like to do that."
I know he said this aloud for 2 reasons. One, so that all would know that he indeed has a plan. And two, to receive his mother's affirmation and to gauge my response. This is where I have to put aside all my plans for his life and assure him that he will do an awesome job at whatever he chooses to do when he grows up. Then I need to let him dream and enjoy the road that God is leading him down. It's way more fun to experience life together than to force my way and desires on him. However, I personally think all this has come about by reading too much Bernstein Bears Don't Pollute.
And you can be assured that Bennett didn't let the moment pass without also informing us of his adult profession. He is going to be a superhero. Period. There will be no redirecting this quest. He is already too far down the training path to turn back now.
Every family is blessed with unique characteristics (or characters). Sometimes these things endear us to others, often they incite others to steer clear of us for fear of what might happen. I find these peculiarities fascinating and wonderful. At the very least it's something for us to talk about and at the very best they're the ties that bind. What outsiders would scoff at, we laugh about. It's kinda like 'the inside joke'.
Anyways, all that to say, that it just occurred to me today that we have peculiarities too. I think I'm having a blonde moment. Duh! I guess it didn't really occur to me as much as Gavin pointing that fact out to me.
Can you believe that today he told me that I am just like Chloe?!? This came as a rather large shock to me. So I responded appropriately, "You mean that I'm whiney and demanding my way all the time and that I insist on wearing flip flops even when it's 40 degrees out?" He laughed and said "No, not that. I mean you and Chloe are both very particular." That kind of stopped me in my tracks.
He was right. I had no come back. I just sat and mulled that one over for a bit. Once I processed that thought I later asked him to expound on the word 'particular'. He told me that Chloe & I both freak out if anything goes wrong, we are extremely particular about what we eat and how we want things to look (a nice way of saying opinionated, I guess). All VERY true statements. I was shocked by his insightfulness and thankful that he found it something that bonded us together instead of a vice that was a menace to the rest of the family. He just showed me that he appreciates who we are and how we are. I sure hope I send the same message back to him.
Then oddly enough, another peculiarity reared it's little head at dinner time tonight. Gavin blurted out, "You know, I'm not happy about something. I don't like being an odd number." I had to laugh, that is so him - and Chuck. I asked him, "What kind of odd number are you?" (not knowing he was referring to his age) and he looked at me and said, "Mom, I don't want to be seven any more, I want to be eight, then I'll be even." He is so his father's son.
Just last night Chuck was controlling the volume on the t.v and asked me if I ever noticed how he has to always have the volume on an even number. Honestly, that's not one of the things that's on my radar screen to catch. I could care less about even and odd numbers. But how funny is that, that both my sweet husband and son have the same ocd manifestation about the whole odd and even thing. It was such a MONK moment (a hilarious tv show about an ocd guy).
Now that it's in the open, I see how true this trait is in both of them. And that makes me love them all the more. It's the quirks that make us special and unique and teach us how to love each other better.
I need not go into Bennett's peculiarities - they are adequately spelled out in detail amongst the many pages of Mommy Stories.
