Oct 15, 2003 | Boy Wonder
Ain’t
“Dad, I know that Ain’t really isn’t a word and I’m not supposed to use it. But, is it ok if I use it when I am playing all by myself and no one is around to hear it?” (from the six year old)
~~It’s only a matter of time before these “restrictions” are applied to swear words. Speaking of the six year old and swear words, the following conversation happened this morning:
Me: Put your shoes on, it’s almost time to leave for school.
Georges: Ok, but I’m going to wear my slip-on shoes because the tie ones are a pain in the ass.
Me: EXCUSE ME?!!!
Georges: (big time mr. innocent here…) What? I didn’t want to say “BUTT” cause that’s not a nice word and I know I’m not supposed to say it.
Me: Well, you’re not suppose to say that word either… ok?
Georges: Ok. I’ll just say it’s a pain. That should work.
I have to say, I have NO idea where that child gets such colorful language. (Denial is such a lovely state. Property is also cheap there!)
Oct 11, 2003 | Boy Wonder
The New Science
“Scientifically (slight lisp because he’s missing his two front teeth), spit is made of water and water is liquid. So, that means spit is liquid, right?” ~~from the six year old.
Oct 9, 2003 | Boy Wonder
Happy Pill
Small child was in an extremely happy mood tonight! I decided to ask him about it–I was looking for inspiration.
Me: So, you are pretty happy tonight… What? Did someone give you a happy pill?
Boy Wonder: Happy Pill? What’s that?
Me: It’s an expression, I was just trying to figure out what made you so happy tonight? Was it a good day at school or something?
Boy Wonder: Oh! No, I got happy when you walked in the door.
I hope Santa is paying attention!
Oct 7, 2003 | Boy Wonder
Wisdom from the Back Seat
You love to talk. Tonight is no different. I live for silence. This is nothing new. You like to tell me everything you are thinking especially in the car. I’m not sure what the attraction is, if you have discovered you have a captive audience or if your car seat forces you to be still long enough to become reflective. But you never miss a chance. We’ve had some good conversations in the car, but tonight I am tired. Tonight I don’t want to know that worms can be cut in half and survive. I don’t want to hear about how sometimes you think you should be a vegetarian. I’m too tired to even think, much less ponder how God uses sewing machines to repair the world/s hurts. I’m needing my space and silence more than you can know. But I’m a captive audience after all, and it’s hard not to listen.
You say, “You know, Mom, sometimes I’m an excellent backseat driver!�” I can’t help but laugh; one look at you tells me you are very serious. I think, it must be nice to feel like an expert at something. Your follow-up observation makes your point, “But just because I’m really smart, doesn’t mean I don’t have things to learn.” I think, you are wiser than you know. At six you are so wise! This leads to a conversation between you and Dad about the wisdom of being a life-time learner. We’ve also learned to take advantage of a captive audience.
The road stretches out before me and I just want to be home. There is so much to do before I can go to bed. I’ve not had a moment of silence in the past 14 hours of classes and small groups, lectures and discussions, customers and strangers in a crowded warehouse. So many voices, mostly not my own, crowding in on me.
“Dad� Mom said I was really good in Costco,” you continue. “She said, ‘you have been so well-behaved for so long. Can you just be good a little while longer?�’ I was getting all worked up waiting for pizza and I decided I could be good a little while more, that was good thinking, right Dad?” I think, what an impact our words make. What a difference a little praise makes in a day. I think about how much you’ve grown up this year, all the progress at school,about how thankful I am for your teacher who can see the beauty in you.
“You are a great kid!” I say. “It’s getting late and I need a little silence. Let’s just sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride home, ok? If you can get yourself dressed for bed and brush your teeth when you get home,I will come up and snuggle and read a book even though it’s WAY past your bedtime. Deal?”
“Deal,” you say. But you cannot sit back and be quiet. It’s just not in you, even when you sleep. I listen to you talk to the stars outside your window, ” Hi, you! You are going to follow me home? That’s great! Oh, you want to bring your friends with you? Look, Dad, there are three stars following us home.” I sit back to drift past all the rest of your chat with the stars, into my own thoughts.
You do manage to get yourself to bed. Somehow. I’m not sure how it happened, but I’m not fighting miracles tonight. I’m not questioning them either. You make a space for me in your bunk-bed. I’m reminded how much room there used to be and wonder how much longer this little tradition will last. Will it last past Santa Clause and the Tooth Fairy? We say your prayers, the long list of God help mes. ( To sleep well, to listen to your teacher, to not pull at your socks during story time) and thank-yous.(for this day, for your teacher…) And then, one last thought from the backseat, you say, “Dear God, thank you for lending the stars to watch over us at night, Amen.”
Thank you, indeed, for the stars.
Sep 9, 2003 | Boy Wonder
Frequent Flier Miles
Well… the tooth fairy is racking up miles to our house. Yet another empty space has appeared in Boy Wonder’s mouth. Sunday night was frustrating because he couldn’t pull the darn thing out… these things have a way of happening on their own schedule. But two in one week… at this rate, the tooth fairy will be vacationing in Bermuda by Christmas.
Aug 25, 2003 | Boy Wonder
First day… First Grade
We were all little nervous this morning. It’s a new school year… a new classroom… a new grade. Unlike most of his friends from last year, Boy Wonder isn’t “looping” into first grade with the same class and teacher. Which meant a whole new environment to go along with all the new clothes. No amount of “cool dude black clothes” prepares you for a new teacher. And in this heat wave, you don’t get to wear the “Cool dude black clothes” because you can’t risk passing out from heat at recess. That would be so not cool! But a first grader has standards– as I soon discovered when we tried to get dressed this morning.
ME: Wow… that’s a great outfit (trying to be up and hide the fact I’m really sad his summer is over. I don’t really trust public schools– but I’m a little whacked!)
Boy Wonder: Um… yeah… but Mom?
ME: Yeah?
Boy Wonder: The pants are a little loose… and are shirts really supposed to be THIS long? (Pulling his shirt down to his knees…)
—–OK… I will admit that I bought the clothes a tad large this year… the kid is STILL growing from this summer. But only in an attempt to keep his pants from being floods before November. I also maybe sorta forgot to “shrink” them ( a little known practice where you wash the clothes first in coolish water and “pretend” that they now fit perfectly.)
ME: Well… they aren’t THAT big…
Boy Wonder: Look! (lifting his shirt to show me how his underwear peeked over his waistline)
ME: Sheesh… just keep your shirt down. No one is going to look… they aren’t that big.
Boy Wonder: Yes they are… (Pulling his shorts still buttoned down to his knees…) SEE!!!
ME: I see.
Somehow we managed to get dressed. (In a new shirt that had been through the “shrinking” process and an old pair of shorts covered in paint that Boy Wonder said wasn’t as noticeable as his pants falling down. Ok… so maybe he had a point.) Maybe it’s just a girl thing and maybe I’m just a girl… but I thought the whole point of the first day of school was to wear your new clothes? You are supposed to be excited about it… not dreading it. Who cares if they are a little big for you? It means you have potential! You are going to grow into them. Right?
We dropped the new first grader off and came home to sit out the five hours. Would it be a good day? Would his new teacher give him a chance? Did he eat his lunch out of his Zip Lock bag because his parents FORGOT to buy him a new lunch box and no self respecting first grader would be caught dead using a “Bob the Builder” box? (Georges: people will laugh… but I still like the show, ok?) S i g h. There’s not nearly enough coffee to prepare you for first grade.
So how was it? Well… his CLOTHES had a good day! His blue shirt was covered with dirt (from the garden and TWO recesses… count them!) and his shorts with paint on them looked like they belonged in first grade. His teacher met him at the door and gave him an iced oatmeal cookie.
You have to admire a teacher who understands that while the first grader will love her eternally for the cookie on the first day… so will his parents!
