Roll the DIce

Hmmm... 2012 is over. Just another year. Like any other year. Good times, bad times, down right shitty times. I lost a very dear friend and I'm still feeling the emptiness but I prefer to look at the great times we've had this year.

We spent a fabulous week in New Hampshire with family. Little Man had a whole week with his cousins all of whom he adores. He got to have a water fight with Ahma, beat up Uncle Marc, put the big kids in timeout, and live on Mac n Cheese. Is there anything better than living on Mac n Cheese?

This was the year Little Man started to drift away from Mom and more to Dad. He decided he was no longer a Democrap and aligned with the Repugnants. He wanted Romney to win even though he was mean to that kid... you know, the one who is Prestent. He also dumped the Patriots in favor of the Redskins. Is it mean for a mom to accuse her kid of jumping on a bandwagon out of spite? Nah.

The biggest adventure is yet to come though as we prepare to move to Massachusetts. A homecoming for me. A new chapter for Little Man and John. Another "our lives aren't interesting enough" moment.

I rolled the dice.... Now to see where they stop.

Homecoming

This marks the 4th week of moving back to Massachusetts.  Talk about alignment. My company has one location south of the city. My family has since left the city for the South Shore. My perfect job opened up in that one location right when I was beginning to feel like I would never be able to find a way back. My dream job in my (semi) dream location and they pay for the relocation. Apparently I have done something right.
Nope. It is just Karma’s way of playing with me.
I moved in with my mom. Temporarily – I swear. She’s gotten to see firsthand how right I was when I said I should have named Little Man Karma instead. She switches between giggling like a school-girl and cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West.
And there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it because she definitely earned the right to respond this way.
The trip up to MA was uneventful. Little Man entertained us both with his Leap Pad (I still have the damn “Punctuation” song in my head). My sister provided a great stopover in the Catskills. Little man was introduced to a Wii for the first time and proved quite adept. He even managed to kill Yoda. Not sure what kind of Universal Karma he brought down on himself but I’m arguing extreme innocence. Redhead. Goddess. My Universe. I should be able to provide the kid some protection.
He even managed to be in the same room as a poodle (poodle, not miniature poodle – a big, black, curly beast that also happens to be a pretty damn cool) without a nuclear meltdown.
So all in all this adventure is off to a good start. Even his first few days at a new school went amazing well. The school allowed me to stay as long as I wanted on his first day to help with the transition. I spent almost an hour with him and his classmates.  I almost asked for a job there. 4 & 5 year olds are so much fun to hang with and their teacher gives them the coolest ideas. She let them decorate cardboard boxes as race cars. The boys held them up around their waists and raced all over the room with them.  I don’t remember being able to do things like that.
And then Karma arrived. Or was it Murphy and his damn law? Hell it was probably both of them teaming up on me.
Mom’s house has very dry heat. Little Man and I both had chapped lips and bloody noses. Only difference between the two is I know not to pick. My kid on the other hand, picked so bad his lips were a bloody mess; such a mess that his lips were sealed shut by dried blood each morning. By the time I cleared away the blood, each lip looked like one massive cold sore and they stank.
So here we are, my first day of work and I’ve got a kid with infected lips. There is no way I can send him to school.  When I asked my mom if I could move in with her temporarily it wasn’t so I would have a built-in babysitter. It was so I didn’t have to stress about finding a short-term rental in an insanely short period of time. I’m not even at her house for a full week and I’ve got to ask her to babysit for me.
Then I have to scramble to find a doctor for my kid. That actually proved to be pretty easy and they are able to fit him in the next day.
Day two of my new job and I have to leave early to take my kid to the doctor.
*sigh*
Kid’s lips aren’t infected. Yay! But what is up with the stench? Oh, he has Strep. Not that he has complained about a sore throat, fever or any other symptom.
Hey mom – can you now babysit for several days?
Sheesh I’m going to have to sign my first-born over to her at the rate I’m going except for the fact that I tried to sell him to her last night but she wouldn’t bite and the kid complained that I was hurting his feelings. Sarcasm kiddo. Sarcasm. Learn it. Live it. Love it. Especially if you want to survive this family.
All of this and I’m getting up at 4:30 every morning.  Exhaustion anyone? I have plenty of it to loan out.
Welcome home.

With Sugar on Top You Hot Mama

Broken records get old. Well, technically they already are old. Repeating myself is old. And annoying. So I have to shake things up a bit. So when I'm trying to get the child to do what I want and avoid a meltdown I go with the role-reversal. I imitate him.

He wanted to run errands with me the other night after dinner but was taking a freaking eon to finish. He'd take half a bite, insist on telling me something. Then insist on a hug and a kiss. Take half a bite. Hear something out front and run to the window. Return, hug, speak. Repeat. This kid just could not sit still long enough for a single bite never mind an actual dinner.

I may have been silently singing "killing me softly with his words, with his hugs....". Can I get the last of my shopping down some time this year? Seriously kid, the clock is ticking. Nothing is working so I resort to what he does to me.

I tilt my head to one side, scrunch up my face and say "Please! Oh pretty pleeeeeease. Pretty please with sugar on top?"

He responds oh-so-matter-of-factly: "Um Mom, I don't eat my sausage with sugar on top".

I'm glad I didn't throw in the towel as he redeemed himself tonight. The subject of The Move came up. His response to The Move can go either way so I've tried to let him know he does have a little (teeny tiny bit) control over some of the events. Like he gets to help me house hunt. He gets to decide if the backyard in the new house meets specs.

John decided to up the ante and told him it was up to Little Man to find a neighborhood with hot mamas. Without thinking of how badly I was setting myself up, I immediately asked Little Man who the hottest mama was.

He hesitated. He actually hesitated. He looked nervous. He knew at almost-5-years-of-age this could go very badly for him. He starts to glance at John and then quickly turns his head back to me and locks his eyes on mine. They get big. Very big. He hold up his forefinger and thumb and oh so slowly points them towards me and says: "You?".

You passed this time kid but next time there should be zero hesitation.

Conversations

Ah the conversations one can have with a small child. They do turn on you pretty quickly. Little Man has it in his head that he needs to go to Disney Land. I have no idea who placed this idea in his head but thankfully I can, on occasion, think quickly on my feet. I told him we would go but not for a few more years. It can be very crowded and very loud. 2 things you really don't like my son.

This segued quickly into a conversation on fears. As we discussed his, he asked about mine. While I answered honestly I did not divulge too much (can't give the kid too much ammunition you know). Apparently my fears weren't juicy enough so he jumped to Daddy's fears.

For the life of me I couldn't think of a thing. I drew a complete blank. While I like to think I'm married to the ultimate fearless He-Man, reality does kick in every now and then. He has to be afraid of something but what? Little Man is badgering so I need to think quicker. As I glance upstairs (since John is asleep), I remember Little Man's horrible tumble down the stairs. So I tell him how scared Daddy was the day he took his tumble. I explain that is the reason we still aren't very keen on him playing anywhere near the stairs no matter how hard we try to be rational.

My darling child responded with: "Oh that's OK Mommy. I was just practicing my Baby Circus Tricks".

And then came the conversation that occurred a few short hours ago; a conversation between John and me that Little Man overheard. The crux of the conversation was a little heavy for such a small child and I didn't want to cause concern so I broke with "Pssst. I love you".

"Mommy, you need to stop saying that".

"Nope. Never. I want you to know that I love you and always will. I never want you to doubt that Daddy and I love you. I may not always be happy with you and I may not always like what you do but I will always love you, no matter what".

He replied with a scrunch of the face and a roll of the eyes: "Pfft... yeah..."

As I told a coworker of mine today. I misnamed him.

His name should have been Karma.

Another First

Little Man went to his first wedding today. I was dreading the church ceremony. I wasn't sure how he'd behave. I talked to him last night and this morning. I explained what would happen and how he had to be quiet during the ceremony. He did great. Not a peep except to shush his parents who had the nerve to talk in church before the ceremony started.

On the way home this afternoon I complimented his behavior for the day. His response?

"Sometimes I poop when I'm quiet so I can't be quiet anymore."

Repugnant

Mama's boy may be slowly migrating to Daddy's boy. In some respects I knew I'd be OK when it happened. You know - go to Daddy when you wake up in the middle of the night. Call for Daddy when you've pooped in the potty and need a little help on the clean up. Go to Daddy when you scrape your knee. Go to Daddy when you are sad, tired, sick, scared....

Yeah, I crack myself up too.

That's not how it works but a girl can dream.

Tonight involved yet another conversation in which I needed to explain Mommy's and Daddy's opposing views, specifically politics.

Last time he said he was a Democrap like Mommy.

Tonight?

Little Man: "Daddy, you are a boy and I am a boy. So I'm a Repugnant too".

I nearly bit my tongue clean off.

Fini

Come on buddy. Time to get up. We need to go have breakfast.

"grumble, mumble, grumble mumble".

John: Come Little Man. Time to break the fast.

"No Daddy. We break the slow".
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John stayed with him one night so I could socialize with the adults. He read while Little Man was supposed to be sleeping:

"Daddy you better not read too much or you’ll fall asleep".
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"Daddy, you are a ferry boat and you have to take me around the pool".

As he attached himself to John's back in the pool.
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There are some things we adults take for granted as they are so ingrained in our heads from the time we were little. So ingrained in fact, we sometimes forget to pass them along. Like it is never a good idea to stand up in a kayak in the middle of the lake. The immediate rocking was enough for him to stop before he managed to get all the way up and send us swimming.
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 The best moment of the entire week was not courtesy of my darling sweet son but a moment all on my own. For eons, my mother has been trying to get Mother of the Year out of me. She's managed Mother of the Hour, Mother of the Day, and maybe Mother of the Week. We can't remember completely. The night we officially celebrated her 70th birthday, I arrived early to place an award at the head of the table officially granting her Mother of the Year award.

For the year I was born.