Back in May when the school year was coming to an end, Azul and I had a conversation about what to do this summer (scroll down to find the audio). Well, I wanted us to get ManiPedis to celebrate the start of Summer Break, but my five year-old had other ideas.
It took all summer, but on the last day of Summer Break, I got my ManiPedi date!
Summer Talk… (Original post from May 2014)
This week was Azul’s last week of Pre-school and for some crazy emotional Mommy reason it has come to a bittersweet end for me. My baby is going to all-day Kindergarten next year and I’m having some unexpected troubles with it.
We have done the new “big boy” school visit and went through registration, granted I was almost in tears that night after I put him to bed, thinking about how big he is getting. But, in front of him, I have been the shining example of support for my five year-old’s next big step! He is ready and excited and I am a little scared!
There are things I am NOT going to miss about Pre-school, like these little devils that haunt every room in my house! The playground woodchips are in my carpet, couches and I even find them in the beds sometimes.
With Azul’s new school being only five minutes away, the one thing I am going to miss is our twenty-minute commute. We have some of the best conversations in the morning. This has become private time for us and no one else, time where just the two of us can be together and laugh. Today’s conversation consisted of talk about what we were going to do during Summer Break. This is just a slice of our morning commute.
I’m glad we have all summer to hang out and talk, but first ManiPedis!
Fast Is The New F-Bomb
The saying is true, kids really do grow up too fast. Azul, my five year-old, soon to be six, dropped his first f-bomb and my husband’s response was, “I’m surprised it took this long.”
Now, I have never claimed to be the best influence on my child, he’s mine and I’m his, so we get what we get, and I am well aware of the hypocrisy of parenthood, but trying to be a completely different person around him seems to be more effort than I am willing to exert. I freely admit to having a potty mouth and Azul does know what constitutes a “bad word.” He usually asks, “Can I say a bad word?” when he is telling a story, and because I want to know what he’s thinking, I generally say, “Yes.” I appreciate the fact that he asks permission and it most commonly happens when he is quoting someone. Not me!
We were recently on a family vacation and spent a lot of time walking around and checking out the sights. One afternoon while walking down the main drag in Waikiki, there was a sign advertising hair braids and henna tattoos, so of course I asked my five year-old, “Do you want to get some hair braids and henna tattoos?” In addition to talking inappropriately in front of him I am also extremely sarcastic. I think it is good for the soul to not take everything so seriously and it promotes critical thinking. So I am either raising a son who won’t be gullibly taken advantage of, or an ass. Sigh!
After the question I posed, holding his daddy’s hand, he looked at me with a funny expression on his face and said, “Can I say a bad word?” Well, the bad words he normally experiments with are not bad words at all, like “damn” or “heck” or “hate.” Oh, there is the occasional “shit,” but who doesn’t let that slip every once in a while? Even the FCC has a term for it, it’s called a “fleeting expletive.”
So, in true fashion, yes was my reply. And he looked up at me with his cute little five year-old face and said, “Fuck no!” With disappointment in my husband’s eyes, I cracked up laughing and said, “Well I guess he doesn’t want it. And he is very adamant about it.”
Even without the hair braids and henna tattoos, his growth has been one fleeting expletive after another!