But WHY, Mommy?!?

Argh.  I was just sitting here thinking about the probable number of times that the Munchkin has asked me "why" just in this past week alone.

I think I'm safe at rounding it out to, oh, 19,476 times.

And you think I'm exaggerating.  (Okay, maybe *just* a little.)

In all my years of teaching preschool, preceeded by volunteer work (and actual PAID work!) in Special Education for the local public school district... NEVER have I encountered a child that is so fascinated by language, especially at this young an age.

He's only 2 1/2 (okay... a LITTLE more than that - he'll be 3 at the end of November), for pete's sake!

I honestly cannot think of a single word that he connot pronounce correctly.  Of course, he still has *his* names for certain things... like Pop-Tarts.  Oh NO, they are NOT Pop-Tarts, Mom.  They are "toasty pops."  Silly boy.  I guess it makes sense when you think about it... they go in the toaster, and then 'pop' out.  I get it.  It's just cute.

But the most maddening thing by far?  This WHY tirade!  I have never been bombarded by a slew if 47 "Why"s in one sitting from a 2 year old before this child entered my life.  And the greatest part is?  HE. KNOWS. IT. ANNOYS. ME.  He'll start supressing a giggle about 5 or 6 "why"s into the conversation.  But does it stop?  NEVER!!!

For instance, one day I made a comment about a photo being taken "before you were born."  The response?  "Yes, I *was* born."

Well, yeah... that's why you're here.  But, ohhh no... it didn't end there.

"WHY was I born?"   Ummm... LOL

"Because Mommy & Daddy decided that they wanted a special little boy, just like you, to love and take care of."  Nice save there, huh?  Not nice enough for him.

"But WHY?"  Eek.

"Because we loved each other SO much, that we wanted to share that love with you, too."

A pause, as he contemplated this fact.

"You love Gia.  Gia was here before I was born."

*smacks forehead*

You see, Greyson has a *total* understanding of the fact that MY mom = HIS Gia (grandma).  It doesn't phase him one itsy, tiny bit knowing that I was once a baby, and that Gia shares 2 roles.  I will make a comment to DH about "Mom," and Greyson immediately chimes in with, "Gia?"

He *is* having a slight bit of difficulty when it comes to the concept that Gia was once a baby, too... even though he knows that Gia's mommy was *my* grandma.  Eh.  He's only 2.

The other night, we were looking through a box of photos that my grandma had, that I have now kinda inherited, since she passed away in October 2004.  There were, of course, plenty of photos of me, taken anywhere from infancy through high school.

After flipping through and minutely studying each and every one, he spoke up:

"You know what, Mommy?  I LIKE you as a baby."

"Gee thanks, kiddo.  What about liking me as your Mommy?"

"You got big."

LOVE the logic on THAT one, there, little one.  And I love you even more for having the un-jaded ability to speak so freely.  =)

I think it's time to indulge a little...

And yes, I *do* mean in ALL variations.

Ya see, yesterday, the hubby made a random statement about how, considering now that insurance is settled... that the next kid could be, *whenever*.

Yeah.

Not that I DON'T want another one. But really? It's kinda come up a lot faster than I expected!

So now... I think it's time for a drink. Or a round.

Better make it a round.

Do NOT join my family...

If you DON'T want to have a child in November (or early December!) in the next few years!!

Apparently, there is something about being a part of my husband's side of the family that occurs, OH, around late February, early March...

I will have a new (great) niece or nephew around November 18th!!!

So, here's how it goes:
December 5th, 2004 - Carter is born (my SIL's nephew)
November 21st, 2005 - Greyson is born (MINE - duh!)
November 7th, 2006 - Nicholas is born (my great-nephew)
And now a DIFFERENT nephew's wife is due.  In November.  In our family.  Can you see a pattern here???

Everyone thinks (or hopes, is more like it!) that she is having a GIRL... but, I'm gonna lay odds on a boy.  Because?  Well, being at a family party for his side is TESTORONE CENTRAL if you look at ages 12 and younger.  HOLY MOLY.  There are *no* girls.  Period.  The youngest girl is almost 20.  ROFL  And she's the ONLY ONE.

Then you get to us *old folk*.  LOL

Can I just say that it is DAMN funny that all but *2* of my NIECES AND NEPHEWS are OLDER than me?  Yeah.  And my SIL is older than my mom.  Fun stuff, fun stuff! 

Anyhow, we went to my SIL's 50th birthday / their 25th anniversary party down in Oak Lawn today... and I brought home an exhausted, soaking-wet child from the ordeal.  Because he wanted to play on the slip-n-slide... but wouldn't take off more than his shoes and socks.  ROFL  Ah well, at least he enjoyed himself!!

So!  Happy Birthday, Barb - Happy Anniversary to you and Dom - and CONGRATS to my nephew (ROFL - he'll be *30* this year!) Allen and his wife, Brandi!  We''re all waiting for little Briana or Landon to arrive in November!!! =)

Dear Parents at the Park,

I understand that apparently, for many of you, once your child reaches the age of, oh *6* years old, you find it unnecessary to monitor them while on the playground - instead leaving them to their own devices while you "do your own thing."

I'd like to inform you that no matter how much trust you have in your child... they STILL need supervision... and just because I am there with *my* child, does not mean that I will be a stand-in for YOU with *yours*.



This evening, Grey and I took a walk to the park closest to our house (which still took us a good 15 minutes to walk to with those 2 year old feet!). There were SO many kids there... and also so few adults actually IN the enclosed playground area. Sad.

About 20 minutes after we got there... I got to witness 3 boys around the ages of 6 - 8, all PEE through the chain-link fence onto the surrounding grass. Nice.

By the way, there is a restroom about 25 feet away from where they were standing. A full-fledged BATHROOM - not even just a measly port-a-potty.

C'mon people! Where in the world are some parents getting off?!? And I will *not* fully blame the children for their behavior, simply because children learn what they live. If you can't man up enough to teach your children right from wrong, and intervene when they start to go astray... Well, you *really* don't want me to know who you are.

Because next time? I *will* open my mouth. And you will NOT like what comes out - I PROMISE you.

Things like this used to irritate me to no end even BEFORE I became a parent. But now? Now I have a little boy who has *these* children as his older peers, his possible role models... and I absolutely REFUSE to have him grow into one of the disrespectful, crude little snots that I see all too frequently while we are out and about.

Is it too much to ask that you teach your child SOME manners? Greyson? He says please, thank you, excuse me... and more. UNPROMPTED. Why? Because I have made it an integral part of his daily life from VERY early on.

While other parents apparently find no problem in letting their children urinate in public while surrounded by 20+ other children. Nice.

I think that I have determined that there are far too few people who actually PARENT instead of just PROCREATE.

Yeah, that's it.

My Forever Baby

After coming home from the Wake, MetalliDad had fallen asleep, while my little monkey was, of course, still awake... standing on a pile of pillows looking at me over the baby gate and through the curtains that make up our "bedroom door."

After changing out of my "pretty clothes" and into something a *bit* more suitable for sleep (HA!), I climbed into bed and invited Grey for a snuggle while trying to wind him down a bit before sleep.

"C'mere, big boy."

"I am NOT a big boy.  I am a BABY."  His definitive tone on this subject has simply become stronger and stronger, and it, of course, has left me simply finding ways to stress to him how proud I am of him and all he can do... and why that means he isn't a baby anymore.  Logical, right?

"But honey, babies can't drink from cups like Mommy & Daddy do, or eat pizza, or ride bikes, or jump, or anything fun like that!  You are *such* a big boy."

"But I *want* to be a baby, Mommy.  I don't want to be a big boy."  The light simply faded from his normally radiant brown eyes.  What had made my child so utterly saddened by the prospect of growing up?

"Greyson, does it make you sad to not be a baby?"  A little nod, then a return of his head to my chest.  "Why?  Why do you wish you were a baby?"

And in the tiniest of voices, "Babies are better."

And as I swept him into my arms, I could not help but wonder just what it was that had told him that nonsense.  Of course, the joy of a new baby brings untold and unexplainable wonder to life... but watching that child grow along their own glorious, independent, awe-inspiring paths is a music unsung.  My son is my GIFT.

I began to tell him that no matter how big he gets, or what he can do, he will always be *my* baby.  That nothing could ever replace him and make him any less special than he always has been.  That I was *proud* of him for being the best big boy EVER. 

And he wrapped his little arms around my neck, and squeezed tight... whispering right into my ear, "I love you, too, Mommy.  You will always be my Mommy."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After he fell asleep, I decided that, for him to read someday, I would (try to) put down in words what exactly he means to me.

I leave you with what came pouring out:

Oh, my sweet boy~

If you only knew how carefully I hug you for fear that I might accidentally crush you into a fine, fine dust from the strength of my love alone!  How could I ever make you understand?  I would join forces with the moon and overthrow the sun for you.  I would carry a big rock on my back across the widest desert for you.  I would tame the biggest dinosaur if only for you to study it's skin.  I would brave the roughest seas to find a calm shore for you to swim.  I would learn how to harnessstorm clouds for you, so you'd never miss another sunny day.  I would wrestle crocodiles with the big, big teeth.  Then I’d do a funny dance - if it would make you smile.  I would hire an airplane to write in big white smoke letters across the blue blue sky: “Mommy loves you, Munchkin.”  

I would build you your very own playground out of moon rocks and music notes.  It would be on a big green hill in a land from somewhere, anywhere in your mind, where there were no such things as sickness, pain or old age.  There would be parades around it every single day with fireworks and ice cream trucks, and the tallest slides you could ever come flying down with your hair all excited around your smiling face.  Greyson, I will hold your hand through the world’s biggest parking lots and across the widest of streets.  I would leap in front of cars for you.  I would brave the meanest pirate ships for you.  I would stay up all night and count the sky’s stars for you - and give you the brightest one.
But this above all.

I will be your personal pioneer and go out ahead to conquer Death for you - if only to explore, uncover, and investigate everything to make sure it’s cool - but don’t worry.  I will come rushing back to life in your heart and mind, and whisper all of Death’s secrets in your trembling ear. Just use your soul, because that’s where your Mommy will ALWAYS live.  Remember to be still and listen with your whole self.  Even when you are a very old man and you are in your very last bed, you won’t need to be afraid.  Just close your eyes.  I will be there.  I promise.  I’ll open my arms so wide.  Just listen very closely with everything you can muster and you’ll be able to hear me say through those veils of misty silver…
 
You are *still* my forever baby... and I love you.
 

His Stomach is the Size of a GRAPE...

Or so you would think most days. 

Greyson is the *champion* at eating next-to-NOTHING... and yet, still manages to run around like a rabid monkey.  And grow to insane heights... I'm 5'11" and the top of his head is darn near at my waist already.  Sheesh.

Anyone else encountering this with their little one?  It just does *not* make one ounce of sense to me how he can achieve this...

My Two-Year-Old Son is Channeling

A 13-year-old premenstrual girl suffering from her first heartbreak. Can anyone tell me *why*?

For the last two days or so, he has had a *serious* meltdown over everything I say, everything I do, and everything that just plain looks at him wrong. Honest.

"Greyson, please don't stand on a pile of pillows to reach the *unreachable* DVDs." Meltdown.
"Honey, would you like some smiley face potatoes?" Meltdown.
"There is a rabid snake climbing up your leg and injecting you with molten lava!" Meltdown. Okay, I haven't said *that* to him, but from his reactions to normal, everyday things lately - I may has well have.

Is it just because he's 2 1/2? Or is there something *else* going on that he just can't quite put words to? Mind you, he is one of *the* most vocal youngsters I have ever encountered, even in all my years of teaching early childhood - but it just hasn't been explainable beyond "Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh! Leave me alone! Don't touch me! You can't see me! (when he's doing something he shouldn't) Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" And believe me, the transcription is *much* more pleasant than the live version.

We have been through the entire list of "Does ____ hurt?" and every answer has been an emphatic no. I thought *maybe* his tummy was bugging him, since he actually woke early this morning just to go #2, and gave him some acidophilus tablets... so that's not it, either. It just seems like he *really* wants to left to his own devices, as nefarious as they are, and for me to turn a blind eye to EVERYTHING he does. Because really, it's OKAY to do that with an imaginitave 2-year-old boy with a penchant for technology. YIKES.

I'm glad tomorrow is a holiday. Because that means that the OTHER parent can help me fend off some of these Xanax-inducing spells. *sigh*