The Player.

During zj's second week of school I got a note from the teacher.

It read:

"Zj is having trouble keeping his hands to himself.  I have spoken to him about this several times, and I hope you will, too."

I gave zj a cursory "Remember not to touch the other kids, ok?  Your teacher sent a note home about it.  You'll do better, right?"

"Right, Mama."

Ok, whew.   First school discipline problem averted.

A couple weeks later, I got another note.

"Zj is still struggling with keeping his hands off the other students."

So this time, I actually decided to do a bit of parenting -I didn't have anything else going on that day -  and find out what was going on.  

ME: "Zj, your teacher sent home another note about touching the other students.  What's going on?"

ZJ: "Well, I try not to, but sometimes I can't help it."

ME: "I understand it's hard to be still sometimes, but you might be making the other boys and girls uncomfortable if you keep touching them."

ZJ: "But Mama, she said I could."

Hmmm... It turns out he was only touching ONE student.  Her name was Ginny, and she had "long yellow hair."  He liked to touch her hair because it was so soft.

The yellow-hairs will get you in trouble every time.  Trollops.

A few weeks later, zj came home from school announcing "a couple kids tried to rip him into two pieces at recess time."  My mind immediately went to bullying and mistreatment and such so I began grilling him about the details.  I had to put my considerable interrogation techniques to work, but I finally figured out that he was being fought over by two little girls in his class, each of whom wanted him to play with her exclusively.

Awesome.

Last week, after zj got home from school and I was cleaning out his bag, I found a picture - made with markers, which are pretty much OUTLAWED in the kindergarten classroom - that was covered with hearts and J's and 6's.   When I asked him about it, he said it was a note from a girl in his class.  "Which girl?" I asked.  "I can't remember her name, Mama.  There are A LOT of girls in my class, you know." he replied.  Oh.  Of course there are.

Then yesterday when I picked him up from the bus, before I could even get out a "HiHowWasYourDay?" he greeted me with this:  "I have to take a silly band to school for Josie because hers broke and she made me pinkie swear that I would bring her one.  Hers was a pink flower. Pink is Josie's favorite color.  And she likes flowers."

Ummm, ok.

So I went through the entire "You're not supposed to take toys to school you might have to face consequences for this I'm not sure this is a good idea" litany.  Zj's response?  "Mama.  It was a PINKY SWEAR."   Well, there's that then.  Pinky swear trumps everything.

I put him on the bus this morning, pink flower silly band firmly on his wrist, with strict instructions about not getting into trouble with it, etc., etc., yada, yada, yada.  

I asked him about it first thing this afternoon.  "Did Josie like her silly band?"

"Oh.  Another girl on the bus saw it and told me she liked it.  So I gave it to her instead.  But it's ok.  Josie isn't mad.  I sat by her at lunch, so she forgave me."

If this is what five is like, I'm not going to survive six.  Or sixteen.  Heaven help us all.

 

How to write an amusing blog post.

As we open the scene at 154 Hidden Court, it is mid-morning and cj and zj are working on a coloring project that is spread out all over the living room coffee table.  Crayons are everywhere.  Mj takes one last look to ensure the safety and well-being of the boys, then grabs her massive cup of coffee - Cinnamon Roll flavored - and sneaks away to the office.  She sits down at the computer, opens it up, and...


Cue ominous music.


Zj:  "Mama!  Cj won't share!  I want the green crayon because I'm coloring the Green Lantern and he's GREEN!  And cj won't give it to me!"


Mj sighs, gets up from the computer, and goes in the living room, where there are NO LESS THAN 15 different green crayons available to choose from.  She makes some deals, swaps some crayons around, no one is actively crying, so mj heads back to the computer.  She sits down, the wonderfully amusing blog post swirling around in her head, just BEGGING to be let out, and...


Sounds of the bathroom door opening, then a large SPLASH! followed by uncontrollable giggling.


Zj:  "Mama!  Cj threw something in the TOILET!  AND NOW HE'S TRYING TO FLUSH IT!  AND HE'S ALL WET!  WITH PEE WATER!  EWWWWW!"

Cj:  "Ewwwwwww!"

Mj sighs, gets up from the computer, retrieves the toy Ironman from the toilet, rinses it off, cleans water up off the floor, takes cj upstairs and changes his clothes and disinfects his toilet-germy hands.  As they come back down the stairs...


Zj:  "Mama, I don't want to color any more.  Can I play on the Wii?"


Cj: "Wii!  WHEEE!!!"


Mj picks up 4,923 crayons, mostly green, puts them away, and turns on the Wii.  As the boys begin to play Mario - Cj's remote doesn't have any batteries, by the way - she returns to the computer and begins to type.  This is going to be the best blog post ever!  The words are just pouring out!  


Zj:  "Mama!  Cj shoved something up his nose!  And I think it's a crayon!  And it's GREEN!"

Mj sighs, gets up from the computer, and extracts this from cj's nose:

In the middle of the crayon extraction, mj notices that her living room window looks... dirty?  Closer inspection reveals this lovely crayon drawing on the window:

Mj retrieves cleaning supplies and cleans the crayon off the window.  Meanwhile, zj has tired of the Wii and has wandered off to change into:

his Batman costume.  

Zj:  "Hey Mama.  You wanna play pretend?  You can be Catwoman." He is using his best cajoling, sing-songy voice.

Cj: "Nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh Batman!"  singing the Batman theme song.  In his OUTSIDE VOICE.

Mj:  "Give me just five minutes to finish up what I'm doing, then we'll play, ok, guys?"

Disappointed sighs all around.

Mj wanders back to the computer, determined to finish the damn blog post.  Well, as soon as she checks Twitter.  And Facebook.  And Pinterest...

Twenty minutes later...

Zj:  "Mama!  Has it been five minutes yet?"

Mj sighs, hits the "Publish Post" button, even though she's not really pleased with what she's written, and goes to play pretend.

After all, she DOES get to be Catwoman.

Meow.

Zj might be a really good soccer player someday, if it weren't for all that stupid gravity floating around.

The Great Snowball Fight of 2010.

A truce was called, and no winner was declared.

However, it seems pretty obvious who the winner really was...

Storytime at 154 Hidden Court.

One might wonder what sort of irreparable damage is being done here.

Oh well...

On This, The Eve Of My 36th Birthday.

I don't do New Year's Resolutions.

There are many reasons.

Mainly, as I have mentioned before, I am a retail clerk, and the week between Christmas and New Year's is something like the Clampetts meet Suze Orman meets a Twilight convention.  Really.  So by the time I get to New Year's, it's about all I can do to drag myself to the kegerator.

I'm certainly in no position to make any sort of long-term plans.

Plus, I'm not so good with the follow-through.  But that's a post for another day.  Of course, you probably won't ever see that particular post, because did I mention that I'm not so good with the follow-through?

Anyway, that brings me to my current topic, which is my birthday.  Which is tomorrow.  Which will make me somewhere closer to 40 than to 30.

Usually, I use my birthday as a time for self recrimination and flagellation reflection.  It's close enough to the new year that I can still feel in the loop when people are talking about their resolutions.

In the past, I have made the same sort of unattainable goals as everyone else - I'll write something every day, grow my hair, cut my hair, lose 20 pounds, exercise more, eat better, manage my money better, spend more time with my family, spend more time with myself... you know how this goes.

But this year, I can't think of one damn thing to do better/more/differently.

I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.  Either 1) I'm so fulfilled I can't think of one thing to change or 2) I'm so numb and apathetic to my life I don't care.

So on this, the eve of my 36th birthday, I am content.  I have Blue Moon draft in hand, I can hear my boys rumpusing in the next room, and I have the next couple of days off from work, with absolutely no plans.

Sounds like a winner to me.

Wild rumpus - $37. Going to the potty - priceless.

RJ and I decided that is was time for zj to see a real movie, in a real theatre.  So on Sunday afternoon, Aunt B (no, not THAT Aunt B) came over to sit with cj, and off we went on a stress-filled, whiney, more-trouble-than-it-was-worth magical adventure to see Where the Wild Things Are. We arrived at the theatre, paid way too much to get in, paid way too much for popcorn, (but I did have the foresight to sneak the M&Ms in), and got good seats.  The movie started with only one trailer to watch, and the wild rumpus was on.

Since he was an itty-bitty, zj has LOVED the bookso it seems like not much of a stretch that he would also love the movie, right?  RIGHT?

About 10 minutes, he began to stage whisper, loudly, "Is it over yet?"  This reminds me of the time Aunt B & I took Mama to see Batman, but that's another story altogether...

So, anyway, about 15 minutes in, zj realized that the only way that moving around would be acceptable would be if there were a destination, if you will, in mind.

"Daddy, I have to go to the POTTY."

After several potty breaks, and approximately 1 hour into the movie, this is what happened:

Well, I enjoyed it, anyway.

So, movie over, and RJ carried zj out to the car.  While being buckled in zj woke up, and resumed his conversation mid-sentence.  To distract him, I asked him what his favorite part of the movie was.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

"Well, I liked going to the potty."

The end.

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