Monday, August 26, 2013

The World According to Landon

In an exceptionally curious mood, Landon was asking about everything he could see out his window on the way home.

Since I was a passenger, too, I had more attention to give, more details I could provide.  

Horses spotted: "How big can horses get?"

"Different sizes.  It depends on the breed.  Draft horses, for example, are really big."

"Oh, WOW!  Where do those live?  In Africa?"

I am completely confused about what is so exciting about draft horses, and why he randomly guesses their home to be Africa.

"No, they live here, buddy.  In the United States."

"I've never seen a giraffe-horse before.  Do you think some day we could go see them?"

What?!   Ahhh, DRAFT horses, not giraffe horses.

Yeah, your idea was cooler.


~~~~~~~~~

Landon poked his head into the laundry room and said,

"Do you know what concerns me about this room?"

Did my four year old really just ask me that?!

"No, what concerns you?"

"That pipe.  I'm really wondering what it is, where it goes, and stuff."

Yep.  That's a concern, alright.

I kept folding clothes.  He proceeded to narrate a complicated life story for the mysterious pipe to himself.  I think when it was all over, torpedoes, flooding, and catching air were all involved.

It sounded like he got his concerns resolved.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Me: They will bring the bad guys to justice.
Landon: Who's Justice?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mom, I am creating a wheelchair accessible firetruck!

Why, buddy?

So when the firefighters rescue someone in a wheelchair, this little lift thing can help them onto the truck.

Cool.

Wait, when did he learn the phrase, "wheelchair accessible"?!  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
Mom,  what happens when you die?

Okay Then.  Here we go. Biggie in the middle of a random moment.  Let me collect my thoughts.

Oh, I know, actually.  Your body stays still and your spirit self rises up in a little ball and says goodbye to everyone and then goes up in the sky to heaven.  Just like in Epic when that flower queen died.

I think we can go with that one for now.  Thank you, Epic. It was a rather lovely way to show it.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Early Morning Ambitions

I heard a tap-tap-tapping at my window.

It got incorporated as a sound effect in my dream. (Right? Hasn't your alarm clock been a truck backing up?  Endlessly.)

So I'm not entirely sure how long my patient son was standing there, fully clothed, tapping at my bedroom window.

I dragged my sleepy self over to him, wondering if/how I'd missed my alarm clock.

"Mom!  I'm just going to be out here (in our backyard) kicking the soccer ball around, kay?"

"Sure thing, buddy.  Have fun."

Here's my gauge: If baby ain't up, mamma ain't up.  The rest of you ambulatory people are just gonna have to kick it a little on your own, kay?

Kay.

Great.  With all that tapping, now I'm gonna be dreaming some creepy thing about a raven, only this and nothing more.

Might as well get up before the baby after all.

I've got Mr. Soccer's breakfast of champions to clean up.

Friday, August 9, 2013

New SAHM Seeks Meaningful Relationship with Productivity

 Productivity, I've enjoyed all kinds of relationships with you before, and yet in this new situation you  often seem to elude me.
If you are some Productivity looking to share a life with a grateful companion, here are a few of the qualities I am looking for:

Must love kids, routine tasks, and repetition. 
Must be willing to forgo personal pursuits for the greater good--none of this staying up to work on your blog (or any other personal interest, for that matter) and getting bleary and crabby the next day.  Leave the late nights to me.
Must be willing to enjoy both early morning hours(hungry baby) and the wee hours of the night (same hungry baby) without additional compensation.
Must be willing to double your efforts on holidays, birthdays, or around any seasonal transitions that disrupt schedules and sleep patterns of any person living in this home.
A can-do attitude, unflagging energy, and an eagerness to check off boxes on to-do lists is essential.
High tolerance for interruptions, set-backs, and obstacles is valuable.  Also helps if you have had experience working with diminishing expense accounts and aging company cars.

Phony Productivity with your degrees in Facebookology, Computer Game Level Acquisition, or Film Studies need not express their Pinterest.   I never have enough to show for time spent with you, and yet you manage to make me feel like I'm getting something done.

Preference will be given to Productivity that doesn't need group participation to get started, refrains from using the phrase, "Ok, People..." and doesn't hope I define myself by all its accomplishments.

I'm willing for you to have a slow start, but only serious applicants need apply.  

Chicken Little

Sometimes a proverbial acorn falls on my head.

Like a character from the classic children's story of Chicken Little, I conclude with sudden certainty that the sky is falling.  In the story, Chicken Little runs to the next farm animal in a flurry of drama to exclaim his distress. Henny Penny picks up the refrain until a whole troupe of animals is running around in a senseless panic until they run right into the jaws of an accommodating fox.  A serious emergency results, I'm sure.

So that was me-- in Chicken Little mode tonight.  Something small (in the relative scheme of things) upset my equilibrium, and I couldn't just pause and look up and assess that I was indeed standing under a tree kinda laden with "acorns" of mini-series drama.  We're not talking drama on a worldwide-epic-scale here, just enough to give me a clonk on the head.

And like Chicken Little, I had to get on the phone and exclaim my distress about my falling sky.

I'm so lucky that my Henny Penny essentially said,  "You know what?  You just need to stop standing under that tree.  Cuz' whether the acorns fall or don't fall, you don't need to be standing there."

Sure, she let me chatter on a bit about how it felt to have a falling-sky kind of day.  She didn't scold when I went completely tangential about an unrelated storm I saw on the horizon.  She didn't try to tell me that the acorn didn't hurt or that it would never happen again.

But sometimes my frantic Chicken Little self just needs a calm voice saying, "Get out from under that tree, silly.  Just as acorns fall from Oak trees, Drama comes when you own other people's business."

The sky really can come crashing down on us.  Our whole world can fall apart in the blink of an eye with one unexpected phone call.

But if yours isn't, I hope when you run to Henny Penny, she won't put you on a conference call with Goosey Loosey.

Let the acorns fall where they may.  Let's be scanning the sky for rainbows.