Buzz Kill
Since the announcement of Scott Weiland’s death, I have been listening non-stop to Stone Temple Pilots, and loud. So that means, if I’m listening, my little constant companion is listening as well. Most of the time I have been listening in the car because that is where my CD player is located. Yup, I said CD player. While caught up in the nostalgia of Crackerman and reminiscing of a time when I was younger, thinner and consistently under the influence (a.k.a. much cooler than I am now), I was reminded of the time I saw STP in concert. It was one of the best shows I have ever seen and that memory drowned me in a wave of intoxication.
Suddenly I looked up at my mini rearview mirror (you know the supplemental ones parents place on the inside of the windshield of the car in order to watch their children’s every move), and noticed my son with a sober expression on his face and his little fingers in his tiny seven year-old ears.
“Oh, I’m sorry my love.” I said while turning the music down, “Is it too loud?”
Now that we could hear each other again, our conversation got its second wind. I’m not sure what I was expecting as an answer, but obviously Azul was not in the same place I was.
Looking back at me in the pint-sized mirror with a crinkled nose, he said, “I’m just not really into Country music.”
Intergalactic Laughter
Bath time now has two new themes, the first is Lush bath bombs and the second is inappropriate conversation. I cherish them both. If you have never tried bath bombs, you should, they smell and look amazing, and are just awesome in every way. And if you have not participated in a dialogue with your child, you should try that as well, kids can be thoroughly entertaining.
This past Bath Night (this is a thing, he has them twice a week whether he needs it or not), Azul my seven year-old tried a new bomb called Intergalactic. It is cool! Before dissolved, it looks like outer space and then when dissolved in water, it turns the bath a bright blue and has glitter that makes the water looks like it has little stars floating in it.
While in the tub talking about the solar system and planets (that’s not the inappropriate part) I said to my son, “I don’t see Uranus, but I do see your penis.” (That’s when it got entertaining.) And we both laughed!
When the laughter subsided, I asked, “You know why that’s funny, right?”
And of course he did saying, “Yeah, Uranus is in the night sky, but your penis is his cousin!” I don’t care what galaxy you’re from, that’s funny! We both cracked-up again.
This is how it looks, not Uranus or his cousin, but the tub water.
Parenting, One Deep Breath
My seven year-old has a new hobby, collecting Smencils. If you are unfamiliar with Smencils, they are exactly what they sound like, pencils that smell, hence the Smencil. I guess this is a school fund-raiser and they sell for a dollar once a week in the school office during the morning recess. The kids are crazy about them, Azul included. They all buy them when they get a chance and compare the different designs and smells each one has. It seems to be building a community of presenting and sharing with each other.
This appears to be a fairly innocent hobby, it helps them explore their sense of smell and gives them a writing utensil as well. I have had the pleasure of participating in the act of breathing in these artificially enhanced pencils, and I think my favorite is Strawberry Cupcake. Azul’s favorite is Easter Bubble Gum (oh, yes, there are special holiday versions as well). He now has sixteen of these in his collection. He loves his Smencils!
Recently, we attended a workshop together and one of the tasks given to the kids was to create a nameplate out of firm paper and markers while the instructor went over handouts with the adults. The kids all got to work immediately, folding paper and choosing markers to create their one of a kind pieces of artwork. While my curious son was working on his, he immediately began to bring each open marker to his nose, take a deep breath and after finding some satisfaction with the smell he would continue with his project. I watched in a state of confusion. Why was he smelling the markers? And then holding his freshly colored nameplate up to his face and smelling that as well?
Eventually he turned to me with a blue uncapped marker in his hand, pointed to it and said, “Mmmmmm, blueberry.” I graciously accepted his offer and moved to smell the marker, trying not to let it touch my skin, I didn’t want to get marker on my nose and look like a paint huffer …
That’s when it dawned on me, these innocent Smencils, his new-found hobby and love of collecting something to call his own, is training my seven year-old to huff paint!
I could never take his beloved Smencils away, I remember him even saying it helped calm him down when he was angry, but what if he graduates from Easter Bubble Gum to Sharpies, and then to Elmer’s Glue, and then one day to Krylov Multipurpose spray paint! Oh, my baby’s face covered in paint with a dripping cloth in his hand …
“Smell it,” he continued, and he was right — it smelled like blueberry. As he returned to his work, I returned to the present and took a deep breath. Sometimes with parenting you just have to sit back and smell the Smencils.
Carmelina Hart 