The Boy Child: Random Reflections Regarding & From

-In raising the Boy Child, I have discovered that I really missed the mark by not becoming a crisis negotiator. Half my life seems to be spent talking him into situations that benefit him and the other half talking him out of ones that won't. Both leaving me with a strong desire to lie down. In the middle of rush hour traffic. If you've never reared a boy or a strong willed child, this may be a foreign concept to you. The rest of you get me. God bless us, everyone.

-The Boy Child's reply when I asked him if daddy fixed his bike chain: "Yeah, he just had to put some F150 on it".

-God's wisdom is both divine and perfect and He reminds me of that constantly by the fact that He only gave me one boy child. Lately that message has taken the form of an over-the-door basketball hoop. Thunk...Thunk...Thunk...

-For parents who are concerned about letting their teen have Snapchat, let me tell you that if you follow yours on it, it can be a valuable tool. She could post a video of her brother popping inflated balloons with the fire pit lighter while you were not at home. I'm just using that as a for instance. Excuse me now while I go and talk to the Boy Child about something.

-I adore living close enough to the school that I can go home over my lunch break each day and enjoy some much needed silence. I also adore the Boy Child and am going to miss him when he moves on from our elementary to middle school next year. So I have been bringing him home with me at lunch from time to time this year. Which has been really great. Until today.

In the span of twenty minutes, he asked me a non-stop series of questions, such as, but not limited to:
-"Do people sneeze in their sleep?"
-"What weighs more, a hammer or a mallet?"
-"What's the difference between Claritin and Zyrtec?"
-"Who invented macaroni and cheese?"
-"How many tissues do you think are in 1/6 of a box?"
(clearly his seasonal allergies are on his mind)
-"Do you think Barabbas ever asked Jesus to forgive him?"

I kept looking over at him and expecting to see the little kid from "Jerry Maguire" sitting there. Despite my coming dangerously close to having an aneurysm, we will definitely continue our Mommy/Jack lunch dates. Just maybe not again on a Monday.

-"So Mommy, I think I'm going through puberty because lately I've been wanting to keep my room really clean and put all of my things away and be more mature, and oh yeah, later I might have some questions for you about erections and stuff". Alrighty.

That would be my kid's way of telling me that fifth grade had their "growth and development" talk at school today. Open lines of communication with the kiddos, folks, that's the goal. I got this. But I do reserve the right to call in the Hubs as a pinch runner, as his knowledge of the team's equipment obviously exceeds mine.

-I love the Boy Child with all that I am, but I have to say that I'm relieved that I'll be hanging with Jesus and His peeps at the beach when the BC is an old man. This is because, at ten, he's already a hypochondriac. He's been telling me since last night that he has a fever, and when two thermometers have proven him wrong three different times, he still maintains that they're inaccurate. He just punctuated that with, "Well, even if I don't have a fever NOW, I'll for sure be having one by Thursday". Thanks for the heads up, it's now on my Google calendar.

-Me: "I sure do love you, Bubbas". 
The Boy Child: "Did you know Mr. Peters's brother almost got his finger cut off when they were kids and it was dangling by the skin and all bloody and stuff?" 
Aaaand that would be a heartfelt conversation with a ten year old boy.

-The exchange I just had with the Boy Child in the bathroom:
Me: "You have 15 minutes to get showered, dressed, brush your teeth and get to bed on time. I suggest that tonight you skip your usual routine of standing there naked looking at yourself in the mirror". 
BC: "But I just can't help it".
Me: "Why?"
BC: "Because I'm soooooo good lookin". 
He's ten. TEN. I fear we are going to have to move to a bigger house when he hits puberty so his ego can fit through the door.

-God is great at many things. Keeping me humble is one. Been really trying to work with the Boy Child on making better choices all around, and he had a kick butt day today. Complimented him at dinner on it and was feeling like we had made a breakthrough and that I *might* actually be good at mommying through the tough stuff after all. (Wait for it....wait for it....) Then I got four emails from Apple for baseball app purchases charged to my debit card totaling $140.92. (Needle scratch across record) The skies in KC are cloudy tonight, and I know this because the roof just came off my house. This. Kid. I gotta go now and find some chocolate, so I will leave you with this verse.
"And ye shall bring forth a male child, and though he be handsome and strong, he shall try the limits of thy endurance and fortitude. Forever and ever and ever, amen"
-The Book of Jack

-In case you were doubting the fact that we still have a lot of ground to cover with the Boy Child in the next eight years, he somehow managed to arrive at school this morning with only one shoe. Fo reals.

-So the Boy Child recently disclosed to me that he is "dating" a girl in his class. I Googled "Rules of Courtship for Fifth Graders" but came up empty. All he could tell me is that "you kind of hang out", but not at recess or lunch or specials or after school or before school or during the evenings or on weekends. And of course you don't hold hands, kiss or anything else because he's "not about girls right now anyway, and I'm only dating her cuz she was bugging me a lot about it". Given these parameters, I was on board.

-For all of the Boy Moms out there whose lil darlins are younger than mine, allow me to inform you that when the time comes that "someone" decides to take smoke balls left over from the Fourth of July and smash them with a hammer to see what's inside, and then attempt to clean the mess up with their bedsheets, the residue will indeed wash out of the linens. Unless your son is under six months of age, you would not dare ask yourself after reading this, "why would I possibly need to know something like that?". You simply store it away in your mental file of Boy Survival Tips, Tricks and Hacks and carry on with your day.

-So then I find out this morning from a friend that the Boy Child's "girlfriend" is texting my friend's son and asking HIM out. Um, these kids are ten, and while yes, I did think at some point the BC would inevitably be on a reality show, I do not plan on it being "Cheaters". (Did I mention that they are TEN?) Cue my entrance into this "relationship".

I inform the BC that his "girlfriend" is texting his buddy and asking him out and that it's time for this episode of "The Young and the Ridiculous" to be over. He agrees and says he will send her a break up text. He stares at his iPad for a while, then comes to me and says, "I have no idea what to say. Can you just break up with her for me?" and hands me the device. The control freak center in my brain is instantly flooded with dopamine. I spend five minutes texting with the girl (as the Boy Child) and we (they) agree to no longer date but still be friends. Everybody wins.

See, if I can convince him that if he just lets me keep hold of the reins of every relationship he has until his (prearranged) marriage, life will be amazing for all of us. And I think based upon the deft skills I displayed during this initial dressage, I stand an excellent chance of this. Right up until the day he starts producing testosterone.

-The Boy Child has been wanting to do a change up of his room arrangement for a while. Given the fact that I have been compared to Monica Geller about 400 times in my life, why would I dread this, you ask? It's because, as a person who highly values order, efficiency and methodical systems, I prefer to move like General Patton during operations such as this. However, as a compulsive hoarder and typical ten-year-old male, the Boy Child moves like Cosmo Kramer after a five course meal and a few too many cocktails.

Every object in our path (and there are 10,987 of them) has to be carefully examined by him, the history of it must be retold, and its future is the subject of an agonistic debate. Example: "Bubbas you haven't touched that in five years. It's missing fur and an eye and has gum stuck to it. Let's please throw it away". "But it's special to me!". He snuggles object and yet another vein in my head pops.

After two hours of this this morning, we have gone though approximately 1/8 of the room, and I have gone through 7/8 of my patience for the day. Time to halt the proceedings and recharge at the pool to try and find the energy to resume tomorrow. Maybe.

-So the Boy Child came inside from playing baseball and announced that he has "testinitis" and needs an ice pack for it. I'm sorry, what? As he was rummaging through the freezer, he followed up with, "Yeah, it's in my elbow. Daddy says you get testinitis from not changing up your delivery". Out of the mouths of babes.

-Convo with the Boy Child:
BC: "Well, if I can't have Kik, how am I supposed to talk to Om?"
Me: "Can you iMessage him on your iPod?"
BC: "No, he doesn't have an Apple device"
Me: "Why don't you call him? His number is in the student directory"
BC: "You mean, like, ON THE PHONE??? Kids don't do that. We don't, like, TALK to our friends. That's for, like, 1900s people". (walks away shaking his head)
So to you, all the kids across the land, take it from him, parents just don't understand.

-Overheard in the next room:
Boy Child to Friend: "I'm NOT gay, and dude, how do you think that makes gay people feel when you say it like you're bagging on someone? You're a homophone"
Homophone? The kid just kills me.

-"No Child Left Behind" doesn't apply at our house. Tired of Sgt. Hartmaning the Boy Child through every step of his morning routine so I can get to work by 7:45, so yesterday I decided to skip the whole regimen and make him completely responsible for getting into the car by the appointed time. He failed. I left. He wasn't happy. I was on time. This morning, he did everything on his own and was ready to go with five minutes to spare. Parent win.

-It is important to me that the Boy Child not only know how to spell his spelling words, but that he know the meaning of them as well. When he doesn't know one, I have told him to ask me to use it in a sentence to see if he can figure it out. This is the exchange we just had:
BC: "Mommy, use condom in a sentence".
Me: "What?? Spell that word for me please"
BC: "C-O-N-D-E-M-N"
Normal heart rate resumed.

-So the latest routine to be added to our evenings around the homestead is "Naked Ruminations with the Boy Child". Please note, this is not something I actively participate in, nor had a hand in creating. It consists of him starting the shower, stripping down, and then seeking me out to convey whatever deep thoughts or bon mots are currently on his mind. While a tad awkward for me, I roll with it knowing that: a) it's great that he is that comfortable in his own skin (literally, all of it), and b) I'm still his first go to for sharing what's on his mind, as that won't always be the case. Never a dull moment with that kid.

-The Boy Child: "Mommy, I've had a really strong feeling since I was five that when I'm an adult, I'm going to blow up and become famous. I'm not sure if it's going to be for like, my singing or being in movies or on TV or what, but I just know some talent guy is going to come up to me and say like, 'Dude, that was awesome! I need to offer you a deal!', and then I'm going worldwide". 
I think at not quite nine, he's got the confidence thing down.

-The Girl Child has a complete meltdown over losing all of her gold. (For those who don't know, it's a Minecraft thing, lest you think she is actually a leprechaun.) As she exits the room still emoting over all the ways this has devastated her life, the Boy Child, who has been glued to his iPod and paying her no heed, says, "Next year in middle school, that girl is going to knock it out of the park in drama class". Sometimes the kid just kills me.

-Saw a light under the Boy Child's bedroom door long about 6:15 am. Went in to check on him and ask if everything was okay. He said, "Yes, I just woke up and wanted to stay in my bed and read a book". No fever or other outward signs of delirium, but I'm keeping a close eye on him just in case...

-Left the kids at home for a few hours while I was at work. Got home and found out the Boy Child had been breaking the rule about not answering the land line and had been greeting callers all morning with, "Sheriff's dispatch. How may I direct your call?" Really?

-Lessons in Logic from the Boy Child...
"I am NOT getting a haircut. It's winter time, so I need all of my fur"

We are at Nebraska furniture Mart looking at new bedroom furniture for the Boy Child. After looking around at everything, he says to me, "Can I just get a water bed? That's really more my swag". 

-The Boy Child grooming in front of the mirror post-shower: 
"Dang, my hair looks GOOD. I probably ought to get a couple of pictures of this"
He's eight, folks. EIGHT. Oy vey.

-Random Musings from the Back Seat: April 19, 2013
Boy Child: "I like girls who wear all black leather stuff. Black leather hat, black leather jacket, black leather pants and black leather boots. Maybe that's too much black leather stuff. She doesn't need the hat, I guess, right Mommy? Mommy? Are you listening to me?"
Me: "Shhh, I'm praying"

-Me: "Jack, why are there packets of honey in your back pack?"
Boy Child: (long pause) "Well, I thought that way if anyone were ever mean to me at school I could give them some. Who's going to be mean to you if you give them honey?"
 My BS-o-meter tells me two things. First, he pilfered the packets from the sopapilla basket at Don Chilitos to eat at school because I won't pack him a dessert in his lunch, lest he eat that first. (I know my kid.) Second, if he were forced right now to choose a career path based upon his gifts and abilities, I fear he would be destined for politics and not ministry. Our work here clearly is not done.

-So the Boy Child wants to go out and play in the snow. After losing his one and only winter coat a while back, I found it in the Lost & Found at school yesterday. I told him he could either earn it back by doing extra work around the house or by paying a fine of $2. He chose the latter and scampered off to get his wallet. Only to come back and tell me he had lost that as well. Best grab that toilet brush, Tito.  Tough love is how we roll.

-Random Musings from the Back Seat:
Boy Child: "Mommy, when you're old and in the nursery home, and nobody will buy you stuff, I will buy you stuff. And make sure you always have lots of chocolate"

-Scene: bedtime devotionals
The Boy Child: "Mommy, I know which book of the Bible is about love. It's in the New Testament. Romance"

-Overheard in the next room:
Girl Child: "Seriously, how do you not remember that? It was last year!"
Boy Child: "I don't remember much from my childhood"

-Want to know why the Crown Center Santa is our favorite? The Boy Child asked him for a BB gun, and right on cue, Santa said, "You'll shoot your eye out kid!"

-Boy Child: "Mommy, why do you stand outside the men's restroom when I'm in there and keep opening the door and yelling in, "I'm right outside, let's hurry up!"
Me: "Because you're not old enough to carry a concealed weapon"

-Driving home from school, we pass the local H.S. girls track team out on a run. The Boy Child rolls down his window and hollers, "How YOU doin'?" He's seven folks. *hands over face*

-America is blessedly a democracy, but the House of Rushing is not. The Boy Child has to understand that when you take three different coats to school on three consecutive days and fail to bring any of them home, you invoke Tough Love Rule #7 and go to school with NO coat until they all come home. I appreciate his teacher's kind concern over inadequate layering between the autumn wind and his 2% body fat, but trust me, he will survive and maybe learn personal responsibility along the way.

-Surely there are other people in the world who are parents of a Sock Seam Freak. Those of you who are know exactly what I'm talking about. The kid who cannot, WILL NOT put the shoe on until the sock seam is JUST right and will take the shoe off multiple times if the seam is compromised in any way upon sock insertion into the shoe. I am left hoping that Einstein and Edison were SSFs as well and that Bundy and Dahmer were not.

-It's interesting how one little random act of thoughtless behavior can set off a chain of events. You see an ant crawling across the side of the kitchen sink, you flick it with your hand, it lands in a bowl of water. Not a big deal, right? What's this guy gonna live, a couple of months? And preferably, not in my kitchen.  But you do this in front of the most sensitive of your children, who then goes into a panic that the ant will drown. He fishes it out after a few seconds of trying, but by this time, the ant has taken in enough Fruit Loop tainted milky water that he's not moving.  Sensitive Child bursts into tears and asks you if you can perform "mouth to mouth irrigation" on the ant. You decline, comfort him with the knowledge that it was "just the ant's time to go", and seemingly move on with your lives. Until he wakes up in the middle of the night with a nightmare where you were coming at him telling him it's "just his time to go" He spends the rest of the morning glowering at you and giving you a wide berth.

Today's Score: Ant Corpse 1, Live Mommy 0

-The subject of report cards week came up at dinner. The Boy Child informed us that "it's really important to get good grades all the way through twelfth grade because then you get free Redbox rentals for life"  We're just going to let that one ride.

-Just got an email from BC's teacher. I quote: "Today one of our study words was 'lime'. One of the students didn’t know what a lime was.  Your son described it as, 'You know, like, Bud Light Lime' " My honest reply to her that he has a bottle cap collection did not make me feel any less embarrassed.

-Random musings from the back seat: "Lady Gaga is NOT the kind of girl I want to marry!" Good call son.

-Principal to BC at lunchtime: "Why aren't you eating your cheeseburger?"
BC: "I can't"
P: "Why?"
 BC: "Uhhh, I'm allergic to dairy"
P: "Really? Your mom never told me you had food allergies. If you're allergic to dairy, why are you drinking milk?"
 BC: "Milk is dairy?"
Flash forward to after school mother/son talk about the sentence "I do not like cheese" not being synonymous with "I am allergic to dairy"

-So the Boy Child decided to name his Build-A-Bear "Jesus". Aww, so cute and sweet right? Yeah, until you hear comments coming from the next room like, "Jesus just TOTALLY farted in Barbie's face!" followed by gut busting kid laughter. Lunchtime Table Topic: "New Names for Build-A-Bear"

-Working field day at school and watching my kindergartner forgo the activities so he can sit in the grass and talk to the girls. I see trouble down the line...

-So the Purloiner strikes again, and his piggy bank is now $7 lighter. I knew 127 boxes of Girl Scout cookies in the basement would be too much for him.

-Girl Child filling the Boy Child in on her upcoming field trip. 
GC: "We're going to meet the mayor. Do you know who the mayor of our city is?"
BC: "Mr. Lemmon" (the school custodian)

-Gave into the kids, and put up the Halloween decorations. Love the fact that the Boy Child keeps walking by the animated scarecrow and saying, "I am NOT afraid of you!"

-The Boy Child & Cousin are building a Lincoln Log house....
C: "This can be the garage"
BC: "Greyson, you're ingenious!"
C: *long pause* "No, I don't have any pants on"

-When the occasion arises, you must apologize to the neighbors for your child running naked & screaming from the house during a fit.  Mommy may have made the egregious error of putting sunscreen on the Girl Child first. I'm too far removed from childhood to understand why this is both wrong & unforgivable. The Boy Child found out how wrong and unforgivable bees can be when you step on them while streaking & screaming through the grass. 

-*dishing up dinner* (Me) "Son, how do you want your tacos?" (BC) "From Taco Bell" Thanks Mijo!

-Overhead in the next room:
GC to BC: "Bow to me! Now!"
*silence*
BC: "It's just not gonna happen Jules"

-Love that when my 4yr old son replaced the empty toilet paper roll with a fresh one, he told me there was only one more roll left in the cabinet, and I need to put TP on the shopping list. Note to his future wife's parents: best start savin' now for that dowry!

-Exchange in the car after preschool pick-up: (Me) Did you get to be a helper today Buddy? (BC) No, they gave me the day off.

-Boy Child just informed me that there is a girl at preschool who has been trying to kiss him but has stopped ever since he told her she was "ate up". One of those ambiguous moments of parental pride I suppose.

-Running late for church, the car keys are missing, I ask the Boy Child (who is our #1 suspect anytime things are MIA) where they are. His reply: "I hung them on the Christmas tree for an ormanent" Thank you Father for my son, and my gray hairs, every one.

-When told the kids are now going to have a job chart listing chores and responsibilties, i.e., picking up your room, being respectful, the Boy Child's question is: "Do I have to learn French?"

-Sometimes in life there is just no way to make a graceful exit. Case in point: we're at a garage sale, a lady asked the Boy Child how old he is.   His response: "Well, I'm just four, but I have a big penis"