Mating, Interrupted

With Christian's interest in all things found in nature, Mike got him this caterpillar cage.  Well, it was supposed to be for the caterpillars, but then he and his friend put a monarch butterfly and a few ladybugs in there.  They added some lovely flowers and a bowl filled with cottonballs soaked with water for the butterfly. 

Christian thinks we should have an animal shelter to help all creatures so they can mate and then we can take care of the babies. I disagree.  When he's a park ranger or zoologist or something like that then he can pursue that goal. He knows the word 'mates' and he understands that it has to do with having babies. 

Recently Christian told me that he saw two squirrels mating.  How did they do that, I asked.  "They rubbed each other's noses and then they swished their tails around."  That's good enough for me.

I convinced him that butterflies don't belong in such a small cage, so the lovely creature was freed.  But then so were the now dead caterpillars.  And I'd hoped to see them, especially the green one which was supposed to be a moth.  We always talk about how each living creature, even if it's just an earthworm, and each person has a purpose in life. 

"What's the purpose of a penis?" he asked yesterday. "Is it to have sex or something?"

It's amusing how Christian likes to ask 'big' questions in a casual manner.  It seems that his older friends have given him a little too much information.

"Why, yes, there are two purposes for a penis: mating and peeing.  Some of that sex stuff you'll hear more about when you are older," I told him.  "You don't need to talk about it too much with your friends yet because you're only 8 years old.  But if you have any questions -- any at all -- come to me or Dad and we'll answer them for you when the time is right." He nodded his head and that was that (for now).  I also reminded him not to talk about his or anyone else's privates because it's private. It's a broken record routine, but one that I hope sinks in. "It's not appropriate," I added.

Christian is aware that somewhere around 5th grade he'll have the big sex education talk at school.  Thank you, neighborhood boys, for keeping him abreast of such important news.

I feel like lately I'm catching glimpses of a pubescent Christian.  Today after school he gave me some momentous news: "Mom, I have something to tell you, but you're not going to like it."

"I'm sure I'll live.  Tell me," I said.

Christian breathlessly told me, "A GIRL likes me. She told her friend and her friend told me." She is the one he helped at the skating rink yesterday by rolling her to her mother after his classmate had fallen.

Me: "Why would I be upset about that?"

Christian: "Because I'm not allowed to have a girlfriend."

Me: "She's not your girlfriend, Christian.  Did you ask her on a date?  No.  She's a friend who happens to think you're cute, and that's ok."

Christian: "But I'm not allowed to have a girlfriend until I'm a teenager, right?" This is something I've been telling him since birth; not really, just since kindergarten. 

Me: "Maybe you'll be allowed to, but it's best not have a girlfriend for a really long time. And even then, it's best to have a group of friends you spend time with who are both girls and boys."

Christian: "When I'm about 15?" He needs to know the magic number.

Me: "I haven't decided yet, but it'll be a long time from now."

Plenty for him to ponder these days.

Halloween in Our Suburb

Halloween was eventful:  we walked to our downtown area and the kids received candy from the local business owners.  It was fun walking around while hearing oldies music on the outdoor speakers. After that we walked around our neighborhood.  Here in Columbus, many surrounding communities allowed trick-or-treating between 6-8pm.  

Two Transformers and a Batman

Bellydancers shimmying to American Oldies music. 

A fortune teller's tent

Many neighbors stayed outside to greet the trick-or-treaters

One of the many decorated homes in our neighborhood

Mumford and Sons

Bad Mom Week

Three little random vignettes:  First, I don't always join in my kids' reindeer games so they can learn a lesson. Second, I take all three to doctor appointments and grocery store errands because there is no alternative right now. Third, Christian perseveres through his hard homework assignment through tears as I, his mom, am having flu-like symptoms and want to call the assignment off.

Episode 1:

It's been a long week filled with doctor appointments, sick husband, sick children, and sick me.  Yesterday I went to the store with the kids after Gabriel's appointment to check on his ear (he'd had a burst ear drum and ear infection a couple weeks ago).  It's such fun to take three kids to the store, especially when they run around, fight, and/or play 'Me and My Shadow' behind my back.  I was not in the mood and I gave them fair warning before heading into Kroger.  Towards the end of our errand, Gaby and Christian thought it would be fun to 'hide' from me, but I decided it would be less stressful to pretend I didn't know they were hiding and continue shopping instead. I really should've been more concerned, but I figured if anyone got lost they'd learn a little lesson. I'd already scolded the boys and I just needed to finish shopping.

About 10 minutes later I heard over the intercom, "Can Uh-lay-nuh come to the cashier?"  I found Gaby sobbing with two Kroger employees by his side.  He told me it was Christian's fault he was lost.  How so, I asked.  "Because he was playing the hiding game!" I reminded him it was his fault he was lost; he shouldn't have strayed away from me to begin with.  By the way, it was not Gaby who sought out help. Two very attentive Kroger employees noticed him crying and asked if he was lost.

Episode 2:

A few nights ago I started to feel real woozy and feverish.  By 2:00 that afternoon I was ready to crawl into bed.  That evening Christian began work on some math word problems.  The more frustrated he became, the more exasperated I became.  It was a one-hour battle.  Finally I told him to put the homework away and leave it for the next morning.  This agitates Christian more than anything -- an unfinished assignment.  Oh no! It means he will be in trouble at school.  I explained, as patiently as I could, that I was tired and that he could complete it the next morning before school.  Then I lost it and took it away from him and proceeded upstairs to their room so I could put them to bed.  Poor Christian wanted to finish the homework, and out of sheer frustration and sadness he cried, "I'm an idiot!"  That got to me.  That really got to me.

So I hugged him and told him he is not dumb, he's just having trouble with this particular assignment and he'll get it. I told him that I had the same trouble in school when I was his age.  Some things took more time to learn and I used to feel pretty stupid, too.  I told him that I was going to help him learn different ways to solve problems.  Christian is a visual learner like me.  He needs drawings and charts to 'see' the answer and organize information, but like a young me, he sometimes gets caught up in using only one strategy to find a solution.  I remember my dad trying to show me different ways to solve problems, but if it was not exactly the way my teacher had shown us in class that very day, I worried that I was not doing it correctly.  I thought there was only one way to a solution. 

Christian told me he gets nervous about tests at school, and unfortunately, this is a life-long process.  Teachers measure kids to see not only what they know, but what they need help with.  So he completed his assignment and I praised him for his perseverance. He told me he was worried about moving "a clip" (used for discipline at school), and I told him that if we used clips in our house, I would've moved my own for the unfortunate way I reacted to Christian's frustration earlier in the evening.  He then spent the next hour with me downstairs for one of my "pep talks" that he seems to enjoy enduring.  This is the time we spend talking about life, how it's not fair at times, and why we are constantly tested by all things material and spiritual.

Episode 3: Awkward

Yesterday I had an appointment with a podiatrist to check on the annoying pain in my left foot. It's always a joy to go see a doctor with three kids in tow. I warned them not to clown around and they did ok, except when they fought over the water machine in the waiting room and fought over who got to sit in the round chair in the examination room.

Over the weekend Mike gave me a good foot massage, and I could only describe where the pain was as the doctor felt around the heel and arch of my foot for sore spots.  I assured the doctor that I was practically limping for the past several weeks and that the pain has been intermittent over the past couple years.  As he continued the exam he joked, "I'm not going to give you a free foot massage.." Ha ha. He really put his foot in his mouth...oh the foot puns that come to mind. Obviously, Mike had done a great job of stretching and kneading the tissue. 

I was given a steroid shot in the heel and told to come back in a couple weeks to see if the pain is completely gone.  Apparently I have plantar fascitis.  When the doctor left, Christian asked loudly, "Why was the doctor acting like your husband?  Is he a massage doctor?"   On the way out, Christian informed me that as we were walking towards the car, he peered into the window and saw the podiatrist.  Christian said, "I pointed at him and told him, 'You're a massage doctor!', and the doctor told me, 'I can hear you.'"  Oh boy, my follow up visit might be a little awkward in a couple weeks. I wish doctors' offices had waiting rooms for children so parents could complete their appointments in peace. 

Last evening as I was putting the boys to bed, Christian again joked about Dr. Massage. He said, "I should've told him my arm hurts so that he could massage it."  He asked me several times if I'd told Mike about this, and I assured him I had.  Christian double checked with Mike after he came back from his trip this afternoon. This doctor's appointment really seemed to bother Christian.  Perhaps, if the podiatrist had been a female it would not have struck Christian as something strange for someone to touch my foot in a similar way Mike does for me. I'm sure it had everything to do with the 'massage' comment, though. 

Dude Man Dude

We were searching for Christian's Baptism album for a religious education project due for the next day's class when the boys came across one of Mike's old photo albums.  The one with all the cars, mullet-headed friends, and chickadees he knew back in the day.  Then they saw the photo of a post-pubescent 19-year-old Dad (the hairless chest was a dead giveaway) with his arms around another equally young, frizzy-headed (just being honest) girl with a bad 80s hairstyle and they exclaimed, "Mom?  Is that Dad's girlfriend?!"  And Gaby giggled and threw himself on the couch. 

But the very last photo was of an older dad with his arms around two ladies (I use that term loosely) at a sports bar-esque place taken during his mid 20's and Gaby commented, "Wow, Dad! You're with some HOT ladies! Hahahahaahahahahaahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!" I think that photo needs to be burned. There are a number of photos of Mike and his friends showing off pre-weight lifting muscles with such bravura that resonated with our sons. 

Today Christian apparently told his teacher, "My dad is a dude."