Horror Story
Occasionally when my seven year-old and I are playing, I like to sneak around the corner and hide. When he comes looking for me I jump out and scare him. He screams, I scream and it’s fun.
Azul was reminiscing, telling a story about me, his sweet innocent loving mother, being scary (that’s really more like it). Using his advanced vocabulary he chose the most frightening word he could use. “Horror” was how he described me.
“Mommy, you’re a whore!” Of course my first instinct was a terror, did I really hear what I thought I heard, and then laughter, because really, denial never works.
I did like his word choice, so I countered as clearly as I could, emphasizing the two Rs.
“It’s hor-ror.”
“I know, whore.”
The horror story was in full-effect, both of us giggling through wide eyes. Azul doesn’t know why, so he repeats himself for being rewarded with laughter.
“Whore.”
“It’s horror.”
“I know! You’re a whore.”
Him scaring me was just as fun as me scaring him.
Wonder Land
“Every year of life is so cool!” I heard my almost eight year-old say. I looked up from the cutting board and dinner prep I was working on and saw Azul lying on the couch with the computer. This scene has been played out before, with me cooking and him keeping me company, while also in his own world, doing his own thing. There are so many times I just watch him and wonder what’s going on in his head, asking myself, “What is he thinking about?”
Occasionally he gives me a peek inside and I feel like Alice in a land of awe and wonder, instinctively wanting to investigate and discover all that I can. Many times his conversations have to do with a new computer game and sometimes he shares his perceptions of the world around him.
I asked, “What is Every Year of Life?” I though it was a new Sims or Minecraft server.
“You know, like, living. It’s so cool!”
I started my journey down the rabbit hole as he continued.
“Every year I get bigger and I get to do more things and things change. Like, I was in preschool and at a different school and now I’m not there. And now at Prep I’m not in the Tiny Tots anymore, I’m with the big kids. It’s just so cool. I get to do new things.”
I stood there grinning like a Cheshire cat. After all Azul is right, every year of life is cool. Sometimes we just need to be awakened by the philosophical mind of a child.
Fist Things First
I don’t watch a lot of television; it’s not that I am “that mom” who doesn’t want her kids to watch because it is a bad influence, so she only watches during the darkest hours of the night while alone. If fact it’s the opposite, on the one hand, I truly believe if someone is going to be a bad influence on my son, it is going to be me. On the other, I don’t do anything alone, if I’m doing it, so is my seven year-old.
That being said, I do occasionally watch TV and I am a huge fan of The Big Bang Theory. It airs on Thursdays and that is the one night we sit in front of the TV, because if I’m watching it, so is my little constant companion.
Following The Big Bang is Life In Pieces. There are a couple of reasons I like this show. The first is Betsy Brant (I LOVE HER!), I meet her while she was in Breaking Bad, she is super cool and has that vibe like she is one of your closest friends, even though you just shook hands. Also, being from Albuquerque, I am a fan of Breaking Bad. The second reason is Life is full of dry witty sarcasm, and has me thoroughly entertained through the entire episode.
If you are unfamiliar with the show, it’s a series of short stories about a large dysfunctional family. In this evening’s episode, the first short story was about the realities of not sleeping when you have a newborn. The new parents suffer from the “stupids,” due to the fact that they are only getting a couple of hours of sleep at a time. If you’re a parent, you know exactly what I’m talking about and can relate, just as I did. And it’s always funnier to watch someone else’s pain, after yours is long gone.
This is the kicker from that story … wait for it, it’s worth it, and at the end.
While I was sitting on the couch, enjoying my show, this inspired Azul to jump on my lap, his five fingers clenched in a little ball, while waving it in the air, and yelling in attack mode, “I’m going to fist you!”
Already giddy from the show, I was barely able to hold in my laughter. Teary eyed, with my lip shaking, I replied, “My love, don’t say that, that’s not what it means.” At this point, I did have to wipe away the saliva that developed in the corners of my lips, from repressing my laughter. (Yes, I was actually foaming at the mouth!)
He looked at me as if I was the crazy one and followed-up with, “I know! It means five hot dogs.”
That’s when I lost it. Doubled over as if I were punched! (Not to be confused with being fisted.)
Carmelina Hart 