Mustering up some courage.

Now that Mother’s Day has come and gone we are now preparing for Cheetah’s graduation from Preschool.  For years I have not understood what the big deal is about graduating from preschool; that is until today when I happened by Cheetah’s temple of learning. There they all stood in their royal blue gowns and mortarboards, headed to practice for this Saturday’s commencement exercise and it hit me. He’s not my sweet little baby anymore, this August he will start Kindergarten at ‘big kid’ school. He stepped out of the room to take his medicine and I had to hold back the tears. I gushed to him, “Oh Cheetah you look so adorable, I can’t believe you’re getting so big!!” He blushed and began fidgeting with his tassel and replied sheepishly, “Don’t worry Mommy I’m still just a kid.”

I have been trying to lead him in the best way that I know how; I fail a good bit and loose my temper or worse, draw a blank on how to handle the current situation. I have loved answering his questions, taking him on new adventures, and being his best friend…I am not ready to hear the ‘nothings’, ‘I don’t cares’, and ‘I hate you's’.

I still stand firm in my ‘no more kid’s’ decision but this week has me feeling so nastalgic and teary eyed; I have been told by several other mother’s that once the school years start the time will just fly by. I am having problems falling asleep; my mind is like a tennis match. My thoughts bounce from one end of the court to the other in almost no time at all.

Will I be alive to see him graduate from high school?

Will he be alive to graduate high school?

Thankfully I have a few more months before I have to do the MUCH dreaded drop off in August. He has his path out in front of him and it’s scary as hell having NO idea where it will lead and who will be along for the ride.

Put your hands in the air...

The move has made everything so hectic, this is the first time that we’ve moved with the boy underfoot.  It was surprisingly easy, thanks to family and friends things pretty much went off without a hitch.  We had help entertaining Cheetah, heavy lifting, unpacking, and cleaning.  For now we are presently on an unending quest for things that are taped up in boxes and we are wearing a path in the cement from the garage to the house.

Due to the stress of the move Cheetah has developed a fun new habit that has to be stopped.  The school has had to institute a ‘hand check’ rule, it seems Cheetah can’t seem to keep his hands off of the family jewels.  It’s all the time; standing in the store, riding in the car, watching tele, and eating any meal. 

It’s like he has the cure for cancer in there but just can’t seem to shake it loose.  We have tried the whole ‘do it in private’ talk, and the ‘put your hands in the air for a minute’ punishment.  Nothing seems to be working, I wonder if there is a book at the library that could point us all in the right direction.

The only saving grace during all the hooplah has been Mardi Gras.  We are able to take breaks from unpacking and penis talk to; yell our heads off for some cool loot, enjoy good food, get in some time with friends,  enjoy rides, and let’s not forget the cotton candy.

Cheetah’s school has closed for Lundi and Mardi Gras which means a 4 day weekend for me and plenty of time to catch up on laundry and harvesting empty boxes

A little of topic but very exciting…


Over a year ago I read an article the stated that a family could save over $400 a year by owning a bread machine so of course I had to add one to my ‘wish list’. This past weekend the Smith family received an AWESOME house warming gift from my fabulous Aunt.
 

We received a top of the line Cuisnieart Convection Bread machine, and as I sit here I am making my first loaf of bread.  I had no idea it would be the easy, who knew you could just throw all the ingredients in, press start, and boom…BREAD! 

The perfect gift.

Growing up with a mother like mine meant that the holidays (ALL of them) would be greeted with moans and groans by Dad and I while mom’s head almost popped off from shear excitement.  My mother doesn’t celebrate holidays, she DOES holidays.  She has holiday related decorations, foods, clothes, happies, and let’s not forget songs and skits.  My mother is her own band of traveling gypsies and man can she put on a show.  Anyone who has ever met my mother knows what I am talking about.  The woman can make a visit to the OB/GYN an party, she doesn’t bother making lemonade out of lemons…after making her own potpourri, dessert, jewelry, and cleaner there are none left.  After a weekend full of baking, house decorating, and craft making she and my dad took Cheetah on a shopping excursion.

She had the idea that he could pick out some presents that he could give to people…he was allowed to pick whatever he wanted.  When I went to pick him up, she was beaming; everyone was so excited about the choices that he made for presents and promised that no one would be disappointed.  Cheetah was so excited to help pass out the presents on Christmas Eve; he was all smiles and had an explanation for each gift.  They were a HUGE hit!

For the great aunts (most of them got the same gift) he opted for a shower puff; the reasoning, “my aunts all smell nice and ladies are always telling me to bathe so they’ll love it”. 

Tarzan got a puzzle, and a slinky, “so he’ll stop playing with mine”. 

  I got chapstick in HIS favorite flavor, some toenail polish (he does know me) and some reindeer socks.

For his Granny he bought her a new spatula “to help her make Mac and cheese”.  For the great uncle who plays in a band, he bought a Penguins of Madagascar calendar so, “he’ll remember all his gigs”.  For the great uncle who has everything, popcorn bowls since “popcorn is diabetic, right Momma?!”  For his uncle Ty he got a ’Lemonheads’ filled ornament because “it’s his favorite candy, duh.”  For his Nana a small spatula, which broke Cheetah said, “that’s ok she doesn’t really like to cook”.  For his Papaw he got him some coffee, “because he has to wake up early and fix breakfasts”.

 But my favorite was a pair of candy cane antlers with bows, “Uncle Jackie LOVES bows” (bow HUNTING that is).

We were amazed by the amount of attention Cheetah gives to adult conversations and how much he really knows about his family members far and near.  I am really looking forward to next Christmas, with Cheetah doing the shopping I may have time to do some crafting and baking of my own.
 

Wordless Wednesday

Fact or Fiction

Our culture is currently inundated with themes fantasy in nature; we have books about wizards, magic, vampires and werewolves, television shows and movies about witches, magic wardrobes, hobbits, and the afore mentioned literary themes.  Our lives are bombarded by images in the ads and commercials for the movies, books, and television shows.  There are books dedicated to explaining background storylines, the development of these fictional worlds, and the impact they have on society as a whole.  We have dozens of websites dedicated to purchasing memorabilia for each individual series we are currently addicted to (my fave is etsy.com – you can type in anything there and find some pretty unique items); all of this exposure has led to some very difficult conversations in the Smith household.

 Tarzan and I made a deal well before Cheetah made his grand entrance into the world that we would tell him the truth, ALWAYS.  Obviously the truth will need to be age appropriate and does not apply to Santa, the Easter Bunny, or Healthcare Reform (I’m pretty sure he’s going to see through them quick enough on his own) but no babies from storks, no happy little farm where animals go to live, and no politicians that live up to their promises.  But lately he’s been asking some difficult questions: Are there aliens in the galaxy?  How is God real if I can’t see him?  Does Bigfoot exist??  If I go out at night are there  vampires and werewolves? 

I am at a loss, I don’t want to mislead him but I’m not real sure where I stand on most of the previously listed questions.  I want to believe that there are aliens out there, surely we can’t be alone here and there is NO WAY that we are the most civilized and intellectual beings in space.  For me the God part was cake, and he had no problems grasping the concept of a ‘father type figure’ to watch over the world but; Bigfoot, werewolves, vampires?  These are the things I have no idea about. There have been several studies and tons of research done for both sides of every story.  No one really knows for sure… no one person can provide proof, without a shadow of a doubt. 

For now I am buying myself time by saying they are fictional characters that come from the imaginations of other people.  After all, I don’t want him going to bed scared to close his eyes.  What will I tell him when he realizes that there are people who not only believe in these creatures but that they ARE these creatures…Fact/Fiction what do you tell a child???

A Suprising 'Thank You'.

Cheetah has always been a bit of a ‘scardy cat’ when it comes to heights, climbing, noises, and playgrounds (just to name a few) and I always chalked it up to being an only child. He is scared to get inside the playground equipment or any tunnel slides; I tried bringing him to playground after playground; with friends and without. It really never seemed to make a difference who was there or where we were so I decided to sign him up for ‘Tumble Bus’ at his school. They work on physical skills needed for maneuvering on play ground equipment: tumbling and light gymnastics while being in a safe padded environment. He really seems to like it; it’s a place where he can blow off some steam once a week and it has lead to a love of break dancing. What’s not entertaining about watching a 4 year-old ATTEMPT to break-dance???

His confidence was improving but he was still nervous so I decided to use my least favorite 5 letter word in my favor, I say, “Brady isn’t brave enough to climb up that hill” and there he would go, straight up the hill. It even started working at playgrounds and zoo’s; he looks at me and smiles. He turns and says, “Don’t tell Brady he’s not as brave as me.” He has started using our tricks on us, when Tarzan and I say ‘no’ to something he will say, “Its ok if you are scared, you can do it”.

We were discussing our up-coming weekend when I brought up Santa’s Christmas parade on Saturday. He was so excited he smiled and said, “Will he be walking on chairs?? You know, he’s brave enough.” All the talk of bravery has really helped in spreading Cheetah’s wings. We went to the park with friends this weekend and he was getting on the swings, sliding on the slides, and going through tunnels. He was all smiles, so proud that he was brave enough to really enjoy the park. I was nervous about pushing him, who has to nag a little boy to climb or tumble, (it really could have gone the other way) but it seemed a little nudge was all he needed to give it a try. So if you’re keeping score, I think that means Jane 1 Cheetah 0…thanks, Brady.

Wordless Wednesday

Prepare the Novenas

It’s amazing to me that my four year-old has such a well developed personality, no matter his mood he can gather the attention of everyone in a crowded room. I am beginning to think that he will either be a thriving con-artist or a celebrated actor. One moment he is telling us how his friend’s dad shot someone in their front yard and in the next breath we find out that he has told his whole class that he learned karate from a sensei in Japan. The daily pick-up from school has become my newest comedy fix, I don’t know what else to do but laugh. Cheetah has become so good at ‘pretending’ that teachers and friends believe everything he says. He has told the teacher that his dad is on the television at night, I like to be called ‘Master’, I let my him get a real tattoo on his back (he had a tattoo that lasted more than 2 months), and that he gets to eat ‘packing peanuts’ if he’s good at school all week…I am sure that the school is building a file on us as I type away.

After one particularly entertaining evening of storytelling, pouting, and door slamming, I called my mother to rehash and vent. I began describing all the ‘I won’t be your best friends, ‘it’s not fairs’, and the ‘you are breaking my hearts’ when I began to hear laughter. I was calling for sage advice and she was laughing, “Mom really, I don’t know what to do, he has more attitude that most 15 year-olds and the pretending is out of control!” Taking a breath she replied, “I know Jane, I am YOUR mother.” Hmmm, never really thought of it like that…I was beginning to understand. Oh Lord am I in for it. Between my attitude and personality and those of my husband there better be a small country somewhere saying ‘round the clock’ novenas for us. We are going to need them.

I have tried to explain to him that pretending is when you act like someone you are not or do something you normally can’t do and that when you tell a story that’s not real it’s called lying. I was pretty impressed with that ‘rule of thumb’ I passed along until I was reading him his bedtime story and he asked if the monsters in the book were real. Of course I said ‘no’ and quickly he pointed at me and sang, “Ooohhh you are telling lies”. So I’m back at square one, apparently to a toddler there’s a thin line between lying and pretending. It’s like explaining why something is stinky; ‘It just is’. Maybe it’s good (this is me trying to convince myself not to worry) that he is having a hard time telling the difference. Maybe he’ll end up doing something incredibly creative, earth shattering even.

Arguing like a 4 year-old

In the past I have taken many speech classes and have contributed in a few debates, but it wasn’t until recently that I have found myself in the ‘ring’ with a very ardent lobbyist. We spend hours, if not days, arguing our sides and bargaining to get our desired results. I’m not proud of this fact and honestly I have no idea what brings it about, I have become an active participant in a daily arguing match with my 4-year old. All I know is that my usual eloquent points and witty quips have been replaced with a ton of because I said so’s, I’m the Momma’s, and Nuh-huh’s. I am a very well-read, bright, and decently educated woman so how am I letting my own child reduce me to the antics of my not so distant past? Haven’t I used these tools on my own mother? Don’t I know that my combativeness is only adding fuel to his 3 foot fire?

Maybe it’s brought on by the constant rapid-fire form of interrogation that my 4 year old captor uses on me: What’s fog? Do fog, dog, and hog come from the same thing? What’s a rearview mirror? Can you see rears with it? Why did a bird poop on your car? Is all bird poop black? Why not? What color is cricket poo? If you ate it, would it taste like grass? Are alligators like vampires? Then why do they eat blood? Are we driving on the grass? Why is water underground? Why can’t we eat rocks? What’s diarrhea? All of these questions in a span of 12 minutes and he gives me less than a second to begin my response, half the time my response is met with a resounding, “No it’s not!” Oh really…well if you know why are you asking me!!! Oh yeah it’s the questions, defintly the questions.

For now I am perfecting counting to 10 and TRYING to remember that I want Cheetah to be smart and I want him to feel comfortable coming to me with all of his questions, but if I don’t find a more productive means for arguing I may find myself using other gems from my arsenal. Not sure he’d know what to do after hearing, “I’m rubber, and you’re glue…”

He's the one Mom warned us about.

Cheetah is constantly ‘schooling me’ in the matters of day to day life and last night was no exception. In the past few weeks he has amazed me with all the new things that he has learned how to do. For example; I have asked him how he learned to snap and why we can’t cuddle like we used to do and he responded, “Now that I am 4 Momma, things are going to be different.” I guess I should have heeded his warning.

We’ve been concentrating on likes and dislikes as well as relationships lately so I asked why it is that he likes certain girls. He explained how he doesn’t like all girls the same and that there are girls he doesn’t like at all. We got back to discussing the girls that “he loves” (his words), Sara and Alexis. I asked, “Why do you love just these girls?” He sighed and said, “Momma I love girls who laugh when I fart, smell like perfume, look like make-up, and wear dresses.” Surprised I asked, “Why dresses Son?” Matter of factly he stated, “Because when they wear dresses I can see where their legs go.” I was left speechless and scared.

Here I was trying my hardest to raise the man all us women hope for and I end up getting one just like all the others. I am hoping that when the awkward teen years come about they will help to mellow his personality a bit, cause if not he is going to be the boy all the girls are warned about.

I guess this puts a couple of frequently asked questions to rest though, “Are they all like that?” “When do they turn into to such animals?” Yes, they really are ALL like that (to some extent) and apparently when they turn 4.