Time To Change the Dial

On my morning commute I listen to one of those typical 'morning commute' radio stations with the bubbly hosts, mindless chatter and entertainment gossip. Even though the conversation sometimes verges on PG13 I've thought the kids (meaning Sam) were too young to notice. Well, as the saying goes, little pitchers have big ears.

This morning one of the show's hosts used the word bitch, which isn't typical or I wouldn't consider listening to the show with the kids nearly every morning. You can guess what happened next.

Sam: Mom, what's a bish?

Me: (Sigh, I KNEW this was coming.) It's a word that isn't nice that you shouldn't use. That man just did something mean using that word.

Sam: What's a bish?

Me: Some people use that word when they want to call someone else something hurtful.

Sam: Can you call a nice person a bish?

Me: No. You don't call anyone that word. You shouldn't use that word at all.

Sam: What if they are evil? Like an enemy of Batman?

Me: Have you heard Batman use that word?

Sam: No.

Me. You don't call anyone that word. Not even someone supremely evil.

Sam: There are girls in Ms. Britt's class who call themselves Cheetah Girls. They like to chase us and take our football.

Me: (Whew, crisis averted.)

Sam: Maybe if I call them bish, they'd stop.

My Fortune Cookie

We were minutes from home when Sam asked: "Did you bring home any sushi tonight?"

"No," I said, somewhat surprised.

"Oh man! You never bring sushi home."

He Ain't Heavy

Jake's been quite clingy lately. Not necessarily to any one person, but when Bryon has him, he doesn't want to be put down or come to me. When I have him, he doesn't want anyone else. If you try to put him down, he bends his legs as if he knows that if his feet never touch the ground, he won't have to let go.

This morning he refused to be put down even while I tried to use the bathroom and while I showered. He likes showers. A few weeks back when Bryon was out of town, Jake showered with me almost every morning. It's really quite sweet. I hold him in the crook of my left arm, he nuddles my neck and puts one hand up in the stream of water, like those people you see in church with one hand in the air, eyes closed, filled with the spirit.

It's difficult to wash my hair with one hand and the water's usually too cool for me but it's become one of my favorite things.

I'm Your Pusher Man

Sam is crazy about mini chocolate donuts. I bought some last Friday while Bryon was out of town and Sam is hooked. Not only did he want donut after donut, but the first thing he said Saturday when he sat up in bed all rosy and squinty-eyed was, "Can I have chocolate donuts?"

I had transferred them from the bag to a bowl in the fridge because I left them in the car and they were melty. He saw the empty bag on the counter, all smeary with chocolate, and freaked.

"You! You ate them all!"

After I assured him that I didn't take his 'stash' and he saw the full bowl of donuts, he calmed down a bit. But at every opportunity - in the bathtub, in bed, watching TV, playing outside - he asks for donuts. And he gets this look of supreme happiness on his face when he eats them.

A Heavy Mind

Sam's become something of a worrier lately. I'm a little surprised because he's never been that way and his dad and I aren't worriers. At least I don't think so. Someone reading this who knows us may disagree but ...

Mostly he's worried about family. I think the recent death of our cat Nash got his little brain spinning. He wants to know when he's going to die, when Jake's going to die. If I will be there to 'lift him up' when it happens. It's really a little too much for me to talk about but he doesn't seem to accept my standard answer of "We're young and healthy and it's not going to happen for a long time so let's not worry about it now, OK?"

Bryon just got back from his dad's and since he's been back, Sam's very worried about his presence, I guess I could say. Long story, but earlier this week we followed Bryon to a U-Haul rental so he could return a rental truck and although he was in front of us the whole time, Sam kept saying he was going faster than us, he was getting ahead, a car was going to get in between and Bryon would be lost.

Yesterday coming home from work I missed the turn to Bryon's office and that sent Sam reeling. "He's getting further away." and "He won't know where we are." It's really kind of sad. Probably normal, but a little unexpected and sad.

He's also been very afraid of thunderstorms lately. During our last thunderstorm the power went out just as Sam was making his way to our bed, which didn't help. Yesterday on the car radio he heard the forecast of thunderstorms and immediately was anxious. "There are going to be thunderstorms tonight so can I sleep in your bed?" The funny part is that, yes, we had thunderstorms, at about 3:45 a.m. and although they were loud enough to startle me out of a sound sleep and keep me awake for an hour (I find that as a homeowner I enjoy thunderstorms less. I can't help thinking of our leaky roof or the sapling we just planted or what we probably left out in the yard that's getting ruined), but during the whole show, neither Sam nor Jake made a peep.

I find this especially interesting because the other day, during a feverish night for Jake, it took me 35 minutes, I kid you not, to walk backwards out of his room after getting him asleep. With every little creak and pop of the floor his eyelids would flutter open and he'd turn his head toward me. The patting and shushing would continue for a few more minutes. First doubletime, then slower, then I would just hover my hand above his bum. Then I would back away from the crib, like I was walking through a minefield. Eventually I made it.