Help Me, For Their Sake

Jackson has new friends. The neighbor boys, ages six and nine, are his new favorites, and we met another kid that lives down the street, also nine. And mostly that is a happy thing. It's pretty cute. But it also makes me so sad sometimes.

Have I mentioned that I'm terrified of kids not coming to other kids' birthday parties?

Case in point - today Jack was wearing his bike helmet, which he loves. He was wearing it and riding on his tricycle in the driveway. The other kids came over and Dayvon, the six year old and Jack's personal hero, asked why he was wearing a helmet. Jack just kind of sat there and looked at me all confused. I was like "for safety, Dayvon" and I tried to give him the evil eye so he'd stop asking questions like that. Instead he continued on with his questioning and talked about how Jack must be a little kid to have to wear a helmet and not ride a big bike, etc. etc. And probably what happened at that point was that Jack rode off, completely oblivious to the conversation. In my mind, though, Jack was completely distraught and sad and cried his eyes out because a kid he idolized thought he was really small and childish.

Then later the kids came into the backyard because they were impressed by the playground back there. So they all played and Jack was proudly showing them all the equipment. Then he ran towards another part of the yard, yelling back at them "Ummm guys, wanna see my bike? Ummm guys, THIS is my dad's BIRD feeder!" But somewhere in that five second run, the kids decided to all go home, so they ran through the garage and left. So Jack turns around at the bird feeder to show them, and no one was there. He looked around and was like "Ummm, guys?"

Still later the kids came back over and knocked on the door. It was too late for Jack to go out - we had to eat dinner and get in bed. But he came to the door with me and started dragging out all the things he could think of to show them, including the vacuum. He was so excited to show them all the parts of the vacuum and they just stood there looking confused and uninterested. They sort of argued that he really could come out, but I kept saying no and that he would have to get to bed, which they didn't understand because it seemed really early to them. But I kept explaining that he's 3. Then we said bye and they left.

So I know he's not hurt at all, but it just reminds me that all the friend-making starts now. And when he was only playing next to people, not with them, and we could control who was around him, it didn't really matter. I didn't feel like I needed to protect his feelings, or that other kids might question our rules.

I was explaining all of this to my brother and I said that Jack's emotions are fragile and he laughed and pointed out that MY emotions are fragile. So true. To all the other parents out there, or anyone who can help: please tell me how to shut that part of my brain off. Thanks.

Dearest Ryker

My Dearest Little Baby,

I am so proud of you. You have conquered many things in the last few weeks. You can crawl. You can point. You can babble "Mama" and "Dada" and "baaaa baaaa" (for ball, we think). You have been able to clap and wave for awhile, but you are doing it better and in more appropriate situations.

Here is one thing you HAVEN'T mastered. Sleeping. You are not a very good sleeper. I don't mean to focus on your weakness, but I'm going to for a second. You want to work on your new talents so much that you forfeit sleep for practice time. But here's the thing - it does NOT make you better at them. Your clap gets lazy - you miss and hit yourself in the face. You accidentally poke yourself in the eye instead of pointing at your face. You slur your words - "mada babababa" doesn't even make sense.

I'm trying to understand where you are coming from, but it's hard. I don't get so excited by new talents that I can't sleep. Actually, I don't really have new talents so I don't know what that would be like. Maybe I'll try to conquer something new and see what happens. I've never been able to whistle - maybe if I learn, then I'll fight off sleep too. I kind of doubt it.

In any event, please try to get some sleep. Your talents will still be there, and your Mama and Dada will be well rested and ready to enjoy them more.

Lovingly,

Mama

P.S. These aren't the best videos of your babbling, but it's something.

Video A-Go-Go

Here goes Ryker...

And here is Jack's music review...Dan Auerbach ("Hourbox" according to Jack), The Black Keys, Mr. Big, and the lesser known group "Polio." (He means Poison. Oddly close though, don't you think?)

Boredom

I used to have this problem when I was a kid. I would get SOOOO bored. And even if my friends were over, we'd get SOOOOO bored together. My mom used to always tell my best friend Vicki and I to go to the art museum and we'd scoff at her. Sort of ironic that I now go to an art museum every day, don't you think. Karma?

Anyway, I was driving home the other day sans kids and I got stopped at a red light that is notoriously long. And I used to get stopped there and get SOOOO bored. Sitting a whole of 90 seconds was just too much for me. But this time I immediately reached for my iPhone and started reading Tweets. (Did the Olds all get confused just now?) I was excited to be sitting at the light because I knew I had time to get caught up on my "reading." And as I was reading I was thinking that my phone should really be given a name, because it is my friend now. (I'm taking suggestions....)

And then a thought popped in to my head.

"I will never be bored again."

My rationale is was between kids, husband, boyfriend (kidding! sheesh) friends, family, work, sports, and now MY PHONE - complete with Twitter, Facebook, this blog, other people's blogs, Scramble and the NYT Crossword puzzle - I will never have another time where I'm searching for something to do or think about.

To be honest, I was a little weirded out by that spontaneous thought. Isn't it okay to have down-time? Can my down-time include all of my social networking and technology obsessions? It's relaxing to me, so doesn't that count? But does every second of my day need to have an activity assigned to it? It's the complete opposite of meditation (which I'm really interested in) - isn't it?

Thoughts?

Fern's DNA

Our children are blessed (and cursed?) with a varied gene pool. We have musicians, artists, teachers, scientists, pilots, techy-nerds (I mean people with a high technical aptitude), lawyers, athletes, doctors, craftsmen and theologians. Most of the people in our family have several of these gifts (Chuck - if I can use him as an example and brag at the same time - is a great singer, great photographer, has a great mind for science and technology and has a freakish ability to tinker with/fix/build almost anything.).

It's been so much fun to watch Jack and his growing interests. He seems to have received the musical gene ("Momma, I'm a very good microphone player."), teacher gene ("Here is how you do dat - do you wanna twy?), and handyman gene ("Look at dat truck! Look at dose tools!"). I'm sure others will come forward later.

Ryker is starting to show his as well. The most noticeable one thus far? His Great Grandmother Fern's finger waggle. When he's feeding he will point a finger and wave it at me. If he picks up a cane I'm going to have to get therapy.

Why

Subtitle: A list of questions currently occupying space in my brain.

• Why do boys find insects/creepy-crawling-things so funny? In our house, whenever a person audibly passes gas, Chuck and Jack yell "Who let in the barking spiders?!" which I don't even understand. They also have a running joke about eating worms.
• Why are mirrors confusing? Jack should understand them by now, but asked me at a birthday party yesterday how he gets "there" - pointing in the mirror at a game that was right next to him.
• Why do babies hate having their diapers changed?
• Why do squirrels need to eat our bird food? Can't they find enough food on their own?
• Why is Jack obsessed with listing things that "only Mommy can do" or "only Daddy can do"? And why is my list so much shorter?
• Why can kids spin around and not get dizzy but I take 3 turns and need to hold on to something? Same thing with somersaults.
• Why do servers put knives and hot plates in front of my children? Do they teach them to do that to separate the parents that are paying attention from the ones that aren't? Are they undercover Children and Family Services employees?
• Why can't children sit still? Ever? If you watch Jack closely - he NEVER stops moving. Even if he's sitting down, he's moving his feet or bobbing his head. When do we outgrow that?
• Why do kids want to carry cats around? And why do they think it's best to hold them under their armpits so their front legs are sticking straight out in front of them?

I Dreamed a Dream

I'm not sure what this says about me, but last night I had a dream that Barack Obama was chilling in our living room.

He was wearing those black nylon workout pants and gray t-shirt that they always show him in and he was just lounging on our couch. I was really nervous about how to talk to him, but he was very funny and easy-going.

I told him he should rest because he probably doesn't get to do that very often. He told me that he'd take a bowl of ice cream and a blanket if I had them. I rushed into the kitchen and found that I had the end of a pint of Ben and Jerry's. I told him that he's lucky that he's Barack Obama because otherwise I'd never give the last of my ice cream away. I gave him the bowl of ice cream and then was faced with a dilemma. He wanted a blanket and I had two. One was a small fleece blanket that I worried was maybe too small - more of a "throw" or whatever. The other was my beloved Slanket, about which I endure endless teasing from everyone who knows I have one (except Beth, who gave it to me). I opted for the small fleece one because I couldn't handle the thought of President Obama doubling over in hysterics at my precious Slanket. I tossed it over his legs and handed the bowl of ice cream over, and he settled in.

I believe others were in the room too - I think Chuck was there and I'm pretty sure my mom was sitting behind the couch at the dining room table - which we refer to as the Play-Doh table because that's all we ever use it for. I told my mom that this morning and she replied "because of course I'd be playing with Play-Doh while the president sat in your living room."