Soooooo. We had a wee bit of an afterschool meltdown here this afternoon.....it was just your typical, run-of-the-mill little boy who had played too hard and was too tired so he fell asleep in the car on the way home from school and was SOOOO TIRED and sleepy that when we got to the hotel he COULDN'T POSSIBLY walk on his OWN and MAMA PLEEEEAAAASSSEEE, oh PLEEEAAASEE, carry me, because I just CAN'T WALK oh MAMA PLEEEASSSEE cause I'M SOOOO TIRED.
Then, when I denied him (egad!!) he had a bit of a personal crisis. His whole world imploded around him. I explained that I had too much stuff to carry and I couldn't carry him AND everything else, too. Rational, don't ya think? 5 year old + rational thought = bwahahahaa!!
Which he replied, "I know, I'll carry something too and then you can carry me!"
When I tried to explain that no, I wasn't going to do that because then I'd be carrying everything AND him. He didn't quite get it. Hence the meltdown and implosion.
Poor kiddo. What a mean Mommy he has.
celebration and sadness
Little man's kindergarten class had a birthday party a week or so ago for Karla. On their way home from school, he told his Daddy all about the cake and how they celebrated her special day and that her father even came for the party. How tough was that walk, to come into the classroom for your deceased childs birthday party? God bless you, Mr. Campos.
And Happy Birthday, sweet angel in heaven.
And Happy Birthday, sweet angel in heaven.
Snow is snowy when it's snowing.....
Here it is, March 2nd - my birthday - and once again we have snow in Atlanta. What's up with that? So, when school was released 2 hours early, little man flew off the bus with a huge smile on his face and came running, full-force, right into me - waiting at the end of the driveway.
"Can I go play, Mom?" "Can I?"
I tell him we have to get his clothes changed first (because he's wearing pajamas....not only do I share my birthday with my wombmate seester, but also Dr. Seuss! So today the kids got to bring their favorite Dr. Seuss book to school and got to wear their pjs, too).
Upstairs we go. I layered him up in sweats and blue jeans, then took him to the kitchen to wrap his feet in plastic wrap. Even though we've had at least 10 years worth of snow this winter alone, we don't own snow shoes. Why should we? We live in ATL, for heaven's sake! Just as soon as I go purchase a pair, any and all snow will disappear; never to be seen again. So, I do what my mama did for us - I wrapped those little piggies up tight - in plastic wrap.
Now, I believe I have one-upped Mama's old plastic wrap though - I pulled out my handy-dandy Glad Press n' Seal wrap and proceeded to seal those little pink toes up like a little hamburger patty ready for the freezer. I put his tennis shoes on over that, pulled his toboggan down over his ears, helped him with his gloves, zipped up his coat and sent him out into the white day.
Approximately one hour later, my little frozen feller came in, soaking wet. Everything but his piggies. They were dry and warm and perfectly pink.
I eated him.
"Can I go play, Mom?" "Can I?"
I tell him we have to get his clothes changed first (because he's wearing pajamas....not only do I share my birthday with my wombmate seester, but also Dr. Seuss! So today the kids got to bring their favorite Dr. Seuss book to school and got to wear their pjs, too).
Upstairs we go. I layered him up in sweats and blue jeans, then took him to the kitchen to wrap his feet in plastic wrap. Even though we've had at least 10 years worth of snow this winter alone, we don't own snow shoes. Why should we? We live in ATL, for heaven's sake! Just as soon as I go purchase a pair, any and all snow will disappear; never to be seen again. So, I do what my mama did for us - I wrapped those little piggies up tight - in plastic wrap.
Now, I believe I have one-upped Mama's old plastic wrap though - I pulled out my handy-dandy Glad Press n' Seal wrap and proceeded to seal those little pink toes up like a little hamburger patty ready for the freezer. I put his tennis shoes on over that, pulled his toboggan down over his ears, helped him with his gloves, zipped up his coat and sent him out into the white day.
Approximately one hour later, my little frozen feller came in, soaking wet. Everything but his piggies. They were dry and warm and perfectly pink.
I eated him.
Yes, Virginia......
One of the many questions that tend to keep me up at night finally made it's way into conversation a couple of weekends ago. Completely out of the blue.
We were in the car, headed somewhere; the sweetest hubby was driving, little man was in the back seat and I - blissfully unaware that I'd have to make a huge decision in a few seconds - was in the front passenger seat.
The sweetest voice in the world piped up from the back, asking:
"Mom, is Santa Claus real?"
My stomach dropped. My eyes went wide. I turned my head slowly to the DH with a 'oh, crap, now what?' look. I tried to ignore the question. I tried to pretend I had misunderstood. Seconds felt like minutes, when finally, I said, "Why do you ask, baby?" (oh no, oh no, oh no!)
"Because, ****** told me at school, that Santa Claus isn't real." (name omitted to protect the innocent little creep that just about ruined my sweet baby's childhood fantasies......grrrrrr!!)
DH, at this point, asked me just who is this ****** kid? I told him he's a very sweet little boy in little man's class. I know his mom, she's super-nice - but, c'mon! They're 5!!! Even if you don't believe - don't go blabbering it to everybody!
So, here goes. I have to make a decision here - split-second, I might add - do I lie, and keep up the act; or go ahead and tell him the truth? Now, people, he's 5! He'll learn soon enough about all the bad things in life.
I decided to keep up the act. Let him (and me!) keep the magic for a little while longer. Oh, and yes, he knows the most important, true meaning of Christmas is Jesus' birth. But, Santa is a special little bit of lagniappe that I'm not willing to let go of. Yet.
So, I gave a tried and true politician-type answer..... er, non-answer.
I said, "Well, I believe in Santa. And Daddy, don't YOU believe in Santa?"
To which Daddy answered, "Absolutely!"
I said, "Didn't he bring you gifts this Christmas?"
Daddy then informed him that not everyone believes the same things that we do, and that's ok. We're not to judge what others believe.
Little man seemed ok with those answers and let the subject go. For now.
Now, I wait for the next questions. Whatever they may be.
Oh, and I've adopted this from a friend: If you don't believe, you don't receive.
(I believe, I believe!) :)
We were in the car, headed somewhere; the sweetest hubby was driving, little man was in the back seat and I - blissfully unaware that I'd have to make a huge decision in a few seconds - was in the front passenger seat.
The sweetest voice in the world piped up from the back, asking:
"Mom, is Santa Claus real?"
My stomach dropped. My eyes went wide. I turned my head slowly to the DH with a 'oh, crap, now what?' look. I tried to ignore the question. I tried to pretend I had misunderstood. Seconds felt like minutes, when finally, I said, "Why do you ask, baby?" (oh no, oh no, oh no!)
"Because, ****** told me at school, that Santa Claus isn't real." (name omitted to protect the innocent little creep that just about ruined my sweet baby's childhood fantasies......grrrrrr!!)
DH, at this point, asked me just who is this ****** kid? I told him he's a very sweet little boy in little man's class. I know his mom, she's super-nice - but, c'mon! They're 5!!! Even if you don't believe - don't go blabbering it to everybody!
So, here goes. I have to make a decision here - split-second, I might add - do I lie, and keep up the act; or go ahead and tell him the truth? Now, people, he's 5! He'll learn soon enough about all the bad things in life.
I decided to keep up the act. Let him (and me!) keep the magic for a little while longer. Oh, and yes, he knows the most important, true meaning of Christmas is Jesus' birth. But, Santa is a special little bit of lagniappe that I'm not willing to let go of. Yet.
So, I gave a tried and true politician-type answer..... er, non-answer.
I said, "Well, I believe in Santa. And Daddy, don't YOU believe in Santa?"
To which Daddy answered, "Absolutely!"
I said, "Didn't he bring you gifts this Christmas?"
Daddy then informed him that not everyone believes the same things that we do, and that's ok. We're not to judge what others believe.
Little man seemed ok with those answers and let the subject go. For now.
Now, I wait for the next questions. Whatever they may be.
Oh, and I've adopted this from a friend: If you don't believe, you don't receive.
(I believe, I believe!) :)
t-r-o-u-b-l-e
Little man had to move his clip at school today....twice. He told me just as soon as he walked through the door, which is good. Mommy's not happy if she finds out on her own. Oh, and he also told me that he'd been wrongly accused by his BFF. Swears he didn't do it. (yes, they're always innocent...) Innocent maybe -but he still got in trouble enough to get a note sent home. This is Big Trouble at our house.
So, we're sitting at the bar having an afternoon snack and also discussing his punishment. When he gets a note home from school, the standard punishment is: no TV, no computer time, no outside time. He knows this - but, ya can't blame a kid for trying.
"when I finish my snack, can I go over to Miss Alicia's and play with their wii?"
"No, you can't. You can't watch tv or play games here, why do you think you can go over there and play?"
"because. well, can they come over here and play with my wii?" (we don't have a wii)
"No, they can't. Remember, you can't go outside."
"fine. I'll just go upstairs to my room and I won't do a puzzle for you anymore and I won't snuggle with you anymore"
"Why am I being punished for something you did at school?"
"because when you punish me sometimes you get punish" (his words. Oh, and it's all so clear now.)
As he's walking up the stairs, he calls out, accusingly:
"ok, then - when you're ready to let me go outside, you can come upstairs and get me, but you better hurry because I can fall asleep real fast."
Hmph. I guess he told me.
So, we're sitting at the bar having an afternoon snack and also discussing his punishment. When he gets a note home from school, the standard punishment is: no TV, no computer time, no outside time. He knows this - but, ya can't blame a kid for trying.
"when I finish my snack, can I go over to Miss Alicia's and play with their wii?"
"No, you can't. You can't watch tv or play games here, why do you think you can go over there and play?"
"because. well, can they come over here and play with my wii?" (we don't have a wii)
"No, they can't. Remember, you can't go outside."
"fine. I'll just go upstairs to my room and I won't do a puzzle for you anymore and I won't snuggle with you anymore"
"Why am I being punished for something you did at school?"
"because when you punish me sometimes you get punish" (his words. Oh, and it's all so clear now.)
As he's walking up the stairs, he calls out, accusingly:
"ok, then - when you're ready to let me go outside, you can come upstairs and get me, but you better hurry because I can fall asleep real fast."
Hmph. I guess he told me.
the one where we shop, smell, stumble in the dark and Mommy wants to kick some butt.
Had the oh-so enjoyable treat last Sunday night to go out amongst the other procrastinators to try to get our Christmas shopping done; took the little man, adding exponentially to the treat factor. (Cause you never quite know what you're gonna get....)
We'd done pretty well (good?) we'd made the most of our time and checked off a good bit of the purchases for the folks on our list. One last stop before leaving Macy's: we headed over to the cologne counter for the sweetest hubby. Our clerk was a young woman that immediately took a 'shine' to my little guy. She'd offer the little cards spritzed with cologne to him first, then, he'd take a sniff and tell us how he liked it. She seemed to get a kick out of it and so did he.
So, we picked out what we wanted, paid for our selection and then started to leave. As we did, the clerk asked Ben if he wanted some samples to take home. Well, of course, he did! So, she gave him 3 little envelopes with cologne samples. You'd think she had given him the best present in the world! He was so thrilled! His own cologne!!! He tried to shove the envelopes in his pockets, but they wouldn't all fit, so I stuffed two of them in my purse and let him hold one. He was so proud.
We then had to make a trip down to the Hollister store for my nephew's present - oy.
I can tell I'm getting old. We walked into the store, noting first thing that the music is so stinking loud, you can't hear yourself think! And could somebody please tell the powers that be to turn on the lights!! How on earth can you shop in the dark??? FYI.....I have no idea what color shirt I bought my nephew. I just don't understand it. Anywho.
So, there we were, stumbling in the dark - ears ringing and head throbbing - shopping for a shirt. My sweet smelling little boy walked past me and on further into the black hole that is Hollister. Just ahead of him, stands 3 (probably) teenage boys. I don't know if they're shoppers, or if they work there....it's too dark to tell. But, nevertheless, they're standing right where Ben is heading. I pause a minute to see what he's up to - what I see next surprises me. Just as he gets closer to the big boys, my little boy pulls his new cologne out and holds it out in his hand. He looks at his hand, adjusts it just so. I know what he's doing. He wants so bad for them to notice. I can see it. I see how he holds it out, nonchalantly (as nonchalant as a 5 year old can be). I got a little stab in my heart at that moment. My eyes started to sting a little, surprising me.
I don't know if it was sadness, or sweetness or what, but I felt so touched by the little scene that played before me. Oh, and no, the boys didn't notice. They were too wrapped up in their teenage selves to even note his presence on their radar. He wasn't even a blip.
My baby was undeterred, though. He just kept his prize in his hand.
Mommy wanted to go shake some boys though. They'd done absolutely nothing wrong, but to the Mom of the sweetest boy in the whole wide world, they'd committed a crime most heinous: they'd not noticed my baby when he wanted nothing more than to be noticed.
Acceptance and the need to 'fit in' comes unbelievably early and can last a lifetime.
We'd done pretty well (good?) we'd made the most of our time and checked off a good bit of the purchases for the folks on our list. One last stop before leaving Macy's: we headed over to the cologne counter for the sweetest hubby. Our clerk was a young woman that immediately took a 'shine' to my little guy. She'd offer the little cards spritzed with cologne to him first, then, he'd take a sniff and tell us how he liked it. She seemed to get a kick out of it and so did he.
So, we picked out what we wanted, paid for our selection and then started to leave. As we did, the clerk asked Ben if he wanted some samples to take home. Well, of course, he did! So, she gave him 3 little envelopes with cologne samples. You'd think she had given him the best present in the world! He was so thrilled! His own cologne!!! He tried to shove the envelopes in his pockets, but they wouldn't all fit, so I stuffed two of them in my purse and let him hold one. He was so proud.
We then had to make a trip down to the Hollister store for my nephew's present - oy.
I can tell I'm getting old. We walked into the store, noting first thing that the music is so stinking loud, you can't hear yourself think! And could somebody please tell the powers that be to turn on the lights!! How on earth can you shop in the dark??? FYI.....I have no idea what color shirt I bought my nephew. I just don't understand it. Anywho.
So, there we were, stumbling in the dark - ears ringing and head throbbing - shopping for a shirt. My sweet smelling little boy walked past me and on further into the black hole that is Hollister. Just ahead of him, stands 3 (probably) teenage boys. I don't know if they're shoppers, or if they work there....it's too dark to tell. But, nevertheless, they're standing right where Ben is heading. I pause a minute to see what he's up to - what I see next surprises me. Just as he gets closer to the big boys, my little boy pulls his new cologne out and holds it out in his hand. He looks at his hand, adjusts it just so. I know what he's doing. He wants so bad for them to notice. I can see it. I see how he holds it out, nonchalantly (as nonchalant as a 5 year old can be). I got a little stab in my heart at that moment. My eyes started to sting a little, surprising me.
I don't know if it was sadness, or sweetness or what, but I felt so touched by the little scene that played before me. Oh, and no, the boys didn't notice. They were too wrapped up in their teenage selves to even note his presence on their radar. He wasn't even a blip.
My baby was undeterred, though. He just kept his prize in his hand.
Mommy wanted to go shake some boys though. They'd done absolutely nothing wrong, but to the Mom of the sweetest boy in the whole wide world, they'd committed a crime most heinous: they'd not noticed my baby when he wanted nothing more than to be noticed.
Acceptance and the need to 'fit in' comes unbelievably early and can last a lifetime.
Tragedy times two
Today is Love Thursday. This is love lost.
We heard last night that a little girl had been hit by a car yesterday afternoon getting off the school bus. We knew she was a kindergartener at Ben's school. We didn't know until this morning that she'd died from her injuries. We didn't know until this morning that she was one of Ben's classmates. Her name is Karla Campos, she was 5 years old. And she was an angel.
I'll miss you, sweet girl.
http://www.ajc.com/news/cobb/family-mourns-5-year-234840.html
We heard last night that a little girl had been hit by a car yesterday afternoon getting off the school bus. We knew she was a kindergartener at Ben's school. We didn't know until this morning that she'd died from her injuries. We didn't know until this morning that she was one of Ben's classmates. Her name is Karla Campos, she was 5 years old. And she was an angel.
I'll miss you, sweet girl.
http://www.ajc.com/news/cobb/family-mourns-5-year-234840.html
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