You Be the Judge

Feb 21, 2006 | Boy Wonder

Ok…
I’ll admit this is a no-content post. I’m still sick–that’s my excuse
and I’m sticking to it. However, Kat’s comment about Boy Wonder
looking like me got me thinking. Most people who know Boy Wonder and IZ
see the resemblance. The apple is a lot like his parent
tree–they are both so science minded and creative. Their
mannerisms give them away. They even walk the same. But just
judging on photos. . . I don’t know. I’ve grown so accustomed to
people seeing IZ in him, and never me, that Kat’s comment took me by
surprise. So, you be the judge. Does he look more like his
dad or me?

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Mr. Bright Side

Feb 18, 2006 | Boy Wonder

We are finally home–but poor Boy Wonder got sick on our trip. In
fact, we spent 2.5 hours today seeing a doctor and getting meds for the
numerous infections he had brewing in his little system. I wish I
could say it was a great trip. But with record lows in Florida
(Can you say 20 degrees?) and two sick people it’s hard to see the
bright moments. Which is probably why, when loading all my photos
I was overwhelmed by this set of pictures. This is Boy Wonder at
his finest: running a 104 temperature and still joking with his mother.
(NO! We didn’t take him out with that temp knowingly–we didn’t
find out until later that night how sick he was!) Despite all the
illness and cold weather, I’m extremely grateful for my lovely
family. This kid is growing up before my eyes–and I have to say,
I like who he is becoming.

UPDATE:
There are more photos of our trip in the gallery. They aren’t
organized yet and I’ve yet to attach a flickr account so it will be a
bit mixed up.

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The Apple Fell Directly Beneath The Tree

Jan 30, 2006 | Boy Wonder

IZ: You watching anything?
Me: No� go ahead.
Boy Wonder: Can we watch Stargate SG1?

Me: (looking at IZ) I blame you.


Boy Wonder: I have two favorite characters.
Me: Uh huh.
Boy Wonder: Carter�because she�s really smart and can invent anything. And, that�s my style� you know?
Me: Uh huh.
Boy Wonder: And� the leader, what�s his name? Not the General.
Me: McNeil?
Boy Wonder: I thought his name was O�Neal? Are you trying to trick me?
Me: You are killing me here.


Boy Wonder: Wait! Are they going to Atlantis? The General is going with them? Holy Cow.
IZ: I don�t know, I haven�t seen this.
Boy Wonder: It�s the one with the telepathic woman?
IZ: Um, no that�s another show.
Boy Wonder: Oh right� that�s Star Trek.
Me: Ok, that�s it. This weekend he is going to sit down and watch the Project Runway marathon.

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When He Is Not Nine

Jan 24, 2006 | Boy Wonder

**The following
post originally appeared on this blog Sunday night. However, I
suffered another hack yesterday and lost both the post and the comments
attached. Cyber stupidity is catching and I evidenced that by not
saving the original in a WORD doc. Fortunately, I was rescued by
the ever gallant Bachelor who
was able to send me a copy of the post saved in his rss feed. As well, I will be adding back the comments made later today–those were saved in my email system. For those of you who have helped and have listened to me rant through this ordeal… Thank you! –Wende

When He is Not Nine.

Boy Wonder: So, dad and I had a long conversation about sex while you were gone.

Me: Yeah?

Boy Wonder: Yeah. And you know, the stuff you have to do, to you know, do it? Yeah, well, that’s just disgusting!

Me: Yeah, it is.

Because
he’s nine… and it is. Yucky and gross and disgusting. I think it’s
supposed to be that way when you are nine. He doesn’t need to be
reassured that someday it won’t be. He already knows that. He just
can’t wrap his head around wanting to do you know, that! He can’t
understand how his friends, all eight and nine year olds would be so
interested.

I can’t wrap my brain around the intensity of his
conversation. I psychically held my jaw in place as he related the
content of his most recent conversations with a close buddy. It seems
that while Boy Wonder has been content to build robots with his new MIT
lego set and regale anyone he can convince to sit still with tales of
his inventions–his peers have been doing a different kind of science.
And while it might seem harmless and normal and expected… it’s not
ok. It’s not ok for an 8 year old to be down to her skivvies kissing on
a boy and acting sexy . It’s not harmless, it’s not normal and I sure
as hell didn’t expect it.

I held my breath as I asked who this
friend is and just where Boy Wonder was during all this…I don’t even
know what to call it! It turns out he’s as appalled as I am. He
understands that he isn’t ready for sex or even kissing. He understands
that his father and I believe there is a place and time and that he
isn’t at either being only nine. He assures me that he won’t want to
even kiss a girl for another 900 days at least, much less do that. But
still, I feel my heart skip a beat and my stomach knot.

And I
feel the absence of something not quite definable. I feel it
leaving–brushing past me, reaching out to hold my hand before letting
go forever.

Part of me is angry. This week has been full of
conversations about sex. We’ve talked about sexual abuse and teen
pregnancy and the trauma of being sexually active too soon. And those
conversations have also included talk about the meaning of RAPE. All
caps because RAPE is an all caps word. I am angry that the world of
sexuality is so violent already and that while I can protect my child
from the images of that violence–I cannot protect him from the reality
of it. Nor can I protect him from his peers who are allowed to view and
participate in behaviors we deem inappropriate for his age. I am angry
that my hand was forced by a child whose parents have a different take
on sexuality–I am angry that my child feels so helpless and so
confused. He wants to talk science and legos and hang out with his boys
–but he keeps finding himself in conversations he finds overly sexual
in nature. Being the novice he is, he doesn’t know what to do but shrug
his shoulders and change the subject. He wants to keep these kids as
friends because when the talk isn’t about kissing and acting sexy–they
are his friends. I want to scream at the top of my lungs in frustration
because I wasn’t ready for his innocence to slip past me with such
ease. I am mourning the loss of it for him and for me.

But
part of me is relieved. He is still talking to us. He is still coming
to us with his secrets, his questions, his confusion. He still trusts
us to help alleviate his frustrations. He knows, that as much as he
wants friends and wants to fit in–he must be his own man. He seems to
know that he isn’t ready to enter the world of adult sexuality. And he
tells us that he believes love to be serious and special and something
to be protected. I can only hope that some loss of innocence will mean
an added layer of protection. That in giving him the facts of the
ugliness he will be protected enough to discover the beauty that awaits
him. In time. When he is ready. When he is not nine.

Until then,
you must pardon my trips down memory lane. The picture below is one of
hundreds from a time I cannot reclaim. You must pardon my tears. I have
lost so much in one conversation.

And if you are the praying sort or chanting sort or even the wishing sort–remember Boy Wonder.

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406

Jan 20, 2006 | Boy Wonder

February 2002.

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