My kid, he's just like me.
He's smart, stubborn and has an unnatural attraction to shiny things and superheroes.
My kid, he's nothing like me.
He's a drama queen - currently he's in his room fake crying as loudly as he can, door open and standing in said doorway for maximum effect - he loves to be around people, and he's never met a crab leg he didn't like.
In the 5 plus years I've been his Mama, it's been amazing to watch him develop.
I'd like to say I've guided him, but really I feel like more of a spectator to the entire ordeal, standing on the sidelines, watching but unable to enact any real change with my praise, encouragement or counseling. He does his own thing. He is his own kid. That's not to say he doesn't pick up things from others. Ya know, because he lives in the world, and I'm powerless to stop it.
A while back, he went somewhere with RJ, and came home calling everybody "Bro" and drinking sweet tea exclusively, which had previously not been consumed at 154 Hidden Court. I am of the personal opinion that sweet tea is of the devil and is designed to make you thirstier. After that same trip, he began to regularly request fish sticks dipped in applesauce. Blech.
And that was the beginning of the end, so to speak. Since then, he has picked up things from people other than myself at an alarming rate.
Last week, I had Willie blaring on my iPod, and he walked up, listened for a minute, then said "Mama, do you have anything with a little more Boomp-Boomp in it?"
I've been working with him to drop the phrase "Oh My Gosh" in favor of something more kindergarten appropriate, like "Goodness gracious." Occasionally when I'm feeling crazy, I'll encourage him to say "Goodness gracious great balls of fire." He ran up to me the other day yelling "Goodness gracious my balls are on fire!" Uh... that's close? I guess? Good effort?
He has also started using the phrase "punked" a lot. I'm not entirely sure he knows what it means. I'm not entirely sure I know what it means. Usually, it's used in the following sentence "Mama! Cj punked me!" I'm certainly sure cj doesn't know what punked means, and if he did, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't do it to zj. Moving on...
When things are going his way, he likes to announce that he's on the "Happy Train." I'm pretty sure that's a reference to drug use, but whatever. At least I can decipher the meaning.
When I handed his his lunch the other day, he looked down it and said with an impressive amount of disdain, "That's not what I ordered."
He recently came running up to me crying that he had fallen down and "hurt his spleen." Never mind that he was holding onto his arm at the time...
He also likes to occasionally announce, for no apparent reason, that he "has a little mean inside him," and if he is uninterested in doing what I need to him to do at any given moment, he will say "Nah, I'm out."
He has recently moved cool to a whole new level. His Bieber-hair must be JUST SO, he's working on his whole "click-wink" that he uses when he is trying to be especially impressive, and he likes to yell "Who's the Man? I'm the Man!" when he does something particularly good, like win at a video game.
When he was three and still somewhat interested in making Mama happy, he would tell me he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up. I asked him recently and he said "I'm gonna have a comic book store." I said "I thought you wanted to be a doctor." His response? "Nah, too hard."
Yeah, my days of having any influence on him at all are definitely numbered.
When he starts school in the fall, I'm afraid he's going to be in for a big shock.
Probably, it won't be quite as big as his teacher's though.
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