Laughter, Love and Little Girls

Last week was a very L-O-N-G week. I think we already established that much in the last post. Fortunately, this week is not running parallel so that in itself is great news. I've actually found some time recently to just laugh at these boys, d1 in particular. I enjoy writing of these funnies because none of them involved lying or sticky fingers. As one author put it {I can't remember which - Rao, Dobson, Tripp - who knows, I've read so many parenting books at this point and no seems to have my easy guide to raising kids without permanently damaging them}, 'find something to praise them.' This is me praising. Or maybe not so much praising but talking in a positive connotation. Yes, that's a little more accurate. Now, I'm not saying that I struggle ALL the time to find him doing something right. Academically, he rocks it out but it's just some of those 'other' skills that we're trying to fine tune right now.

Now on to the funnies. A couple of nights ago, I was hosting ladies bible study at our house. D1 took d2 to b-ball practice but d1 didn't have a great day at school so he stayed home. His punishment, besides no video games, no TV and no dessert {and believe me, that is the hardest for him to accept} was that he had to help me clean before the girls arrived. Ordinarily this really is a form of discipline for him. He's not a neat freak like his mother - more of the slob type like his father. However, for now, he doesn't view vacuuming as a bad thing so obviously I took full advantage of that. I asked him to specifically focus on the play room and he did awesome, moving all large toys out of the way and using the attachments along the baseboards. I was shocked at his thoroughness, although what reason did he have to rush? Quiet time with his books and bean bag chair? Not really his idea of a party. Anyway, here's where I have to laugh at the boy. As he was working, I ran upstairs for a minute. When I hear the vacuum go off, I asked him what was wrong. He told me he spilled a little water when moving the LittleTikes goal {base full of h20} but that he's cleaning it up and to not worry. Ordinarily this is a red flag but I was feeling glass-half-full. When I got back downstairs, he was on his hands and knees, cleaning the playroom carpet. What a resourceful lad, right? Well sure, I was proud that he didn't just throw a towel over it like I probably did at 6. Instead, I came in to find him using my sink brush, some Bath&BodyWorks handsoap and a wet rag. All fine and great except the brush still had some baked beans stuck to the bristles, the soap was green {note: carpet is beige} and the rag was dirty. So, because he saw a line of water from the goal that he thought was a stain on the carpet {although you readers know that since it was water, it dries CLEAR}, he proceeded to make a mess out of a clean carpet. I couldn't freak out. He was only trying to clean up what he thought was a mess. God love him. I just laughed and started on the real cleaning. A few minutes later, when he had finished all his vacuuming, he said, 'Gosh, Mommy. You're really lucky I couldn't stop talking at school today and had to flip to orange. Who would have helped you clean this house if I would have gone with Daddy?' True statement. Thanks, I guess.

Speaking of orange and school, it did sound like he had an interesting day. When we were eating dinner, he said, 'I had to put tape over my mouth today at school.' Of course my first reaction was, 'WHAT? WHO? EXCUSE ME?' I was just shocked because 1) we LOVE his teacher and it didn't sound like her and 2) you just hear such things in school these days. Don't get me wrong - I would be open to hearing about corporal punishment being reinstated in the school system with some strict guidelines and oversight but that's another story for another day. So as the story unfolds, he tells me that Mrs. H told him that if he thought it would help him to stop talking so that he didn't have to flip another color, he could put tape on his mouth. So he did. According to d1, it didn't work. He could still talk. Well, duh, kid. I also envisioned his friends giggling at him while he's got his mouth all taped shut so I'm not surprised that it was not helpful. In fact, my guess is that it only made things worse.

Although these stories made me laugh this week, there were two that did not. Yesterday he came home and told D1 that he had a girlfriend and that she likes to hold his hand. WHAT.THE.HECK. He is 6, not 16. I am not trying to hear about some little girl wanting to hold MY baby's hand. I just laughed it off and told him that I am all the woman he needs for a very, VERY long time. And then this morning it got worse. I was dropping him off in the car line and, as he's gathering his lunch box and backpack, I turned to him and said, 'Bye, buddy. Have a good day. Give me a kiss.' This is our routine. This is normal. As he was turning to kiss me, some little blonde-haired girl waved at him and that was that. He said, 'No kisses, Mommy.' I was stunned. I realize that I shouldn't be. I realize that this day was eventually bound to come. However, I also realize that this is absolutely, positively heartbreaking. I've always known he's Mr. Independent and that's not necessarily a bad thing but right now, in this moment, it just stinks. Period. I mean, does Little Miss Sunshine who wants to hold his hand also make his sandwiches extra meat, no cheese? What about the notes for his lunch box? Maybe that's a little extreme but darn it, I'm not ready for this and I shouldn't have to share my boys yet. I know I better get a grip on this so that I don't turn into that mother-in-law when he does one day marry at the ripe old age of 40. I've got time. And I'm thinking the betrothing ritual needs to make a comeback - we're surrounded by some great prospects.....