Love and Halloween

I was having a bit of a rough day today.  

I'd spent a good amount of time telling The Hubs how I feel a bit 

overwhelmed with life stuff right now.  

I've been trying to deal with a pretty fair amount of 

stress and I felt like I was reaching a breaking point.  

That said, today is Halloween and things were busy with the boys.  

We had multiple school events, parties and whatnot to attend, 

so there was no time for a mopy mommy.  

I made it to Goose's school in time to get him 

dressed and settled before we took part in the Halloween parade.  

Tink had a party in his kindergarten class, was picked up early by MaMaw, and came to Goose's school to participate in the costume parade.  He made it with just enough time to don his costume and be ready to go.  

Here they are, in all of their Monsters, Inc. glory:

And another with Goose giving his best monster "ROAR!!!"

We marched around the building where Goose's school is and collected treats from all of the offices.  The boys seemed to have a really good time.

Mommy, on the other hand, was still working to ignore her stress.

After feeling like I'd said "Please do not run" for the umpteenth time and beginning to sweat through my clothes, I was more than ready to be done.

After the parade, I told Goose I needed to take Tink to his after-school program (for yet another party) and I would be back for him.  

Tink and I took off in an effort to get there before the party started.  

We got there, quickly parked, and hopped out of the car to race inside.  

As we headed for the dor, Tink grabbed my hand, 

pulled me to a stop and said, "Mommy, you is great."

I asked him, "What do you mean I am great?"

He responded with, "You is great for me.  You is great... my great mommy.  You is great for me and Aiden."

I just about melted into the sidewalk.

I couldn't say anything at first because I didn't want to start 

crying and worry him that he'd said something wrong.  

Instead, I scooped him up in a hug, kissed his sweet face, nuzzled his neck, 

and then quietly said, "Oh buddy, I love you so much." 

He put his arms around my neck and just said, "Love you."

In that moment, I knew the other stuff I'd been worrying about didn't matter.

I knew that the most important job I have, the job of making 

my boys feel loved, is something at which I am succeeding.

There is no way Tink had any idea how much I needed that today.

Regardless, he certainly did bless me with a sense of 

love and peace I'd been unable to find on my own.

I am so grateful for my little monsters.

I hope your Halloween was a beautiful as mine.

My Husband Needs Sensitivity Training

So, I just found this post I'd started writing almost exactly a year ago.

I remember beginning to write it on my phone in the car because I didn't want 

to forget the conversation (or lack thereof) The Hubs had with Tink.

Since we are coming up on this year's trip to the pumpkin patch, I thought I'd post this. If for no other reason, it may serve as a reminder to Daddy how NOT to respond to a question about a cemetery.  

Here it is. Enjoy:

Today we went to the pumpkin patch with the boys' school.

On our way there, we passed a really large cemetery.

I would guess at least 90% of the graves had flowers.

Tink pointed out the window and said, "Hey! Who dettin' mah-weed out dey-uh?"

(Translation: Who is getting married out there?)

Daddy's response?

"No one. They are all dead."

*Silence*

WTF, DADDY?!

You totally just told a four-year-old that he is looking 

at a field of dead people. And they 

appear to be invisible dead people at that!

Insert a more appropriate response from Mommy:

"Baby, when people die they go to heaven. But, the people they leave behind on Earth miss them very much.  So, there are places called cemeteries where people can go and leave flowers or presents.  There are spaces for everyone who has died to have those things left for them.  That way the people here on Earth can feel like they still have a connection with them.  They can even talk to the people in heaven, they just can't hear them talking back."

"I wite pow-wus an' peh-sans." 

"I like flowers and presents, too, baby."

Feel free to also insert a death glare for Daddy.

We are probably going to have to have a talk about how we plan to approach the 

subject of death with the boys before we manage to traumatize them.  

And before Tink thinks that every time he sees a bunch of 

flowers there are invisible dead people everywhere...  

[Editor's Note: Since writing this a year ago, Tink has experienced dealing with death many times.  This has happened through both my sister's dog dying, as well multiple animals at his school (Mostly fish.  Those little stinkers don't last very long.). I have to say that he has handled each death very well.  I was a bit nervous about how to approach the first death with him (Joe was the first one to go belly-up. He was the big black fish in the tank in his school's lobby), but there ended up being no conversation to be had.  I broached the subject by saying, "Oh, Mr. Bubbles is the only fish in the tank."  Tink's response: "Yeah, Joe dead.  I hungry.  It breakfast now?"  Obviously, he was neither distraught over the loss of Joe nor was he confused by or wondering about the concept of death.  I guess the combo of Daddy's "Everyone is dead" and my "Heaven is a place and everything will be ok-ish" talk was sufficient.  I hope the birds & bees talk is this manageable...]

Because Boogers and Skunks Are Important Stuff, Right?

Tonight the boys and I were having a conversation about 

boogers on our way home from dinner.

I know.  

Boogers are gross.

At least this conversation wasn't going on DURING dinner...

After some talk about why they have boogers, they both sat quietly, 

contemplating the information I'd just served up about germs and 

how their noses keep the germs from getting inside and 

making them sick, yada, yada, yada.

Well, I'm hoping they were quietly contemplating and not just searching 

for an example of what we'd just talked about.  I mean that is gross.

After sitting in silence for a few minutes, I hear an all-too-familiar noise.  

"Mommy," Goose yells (Yes, yells.  I am sitting less than a foot in 

front of him in the driver's seat, but that is of little importance to him.  

He acts as if the fact that he can't see me means I can't hear him). "I jus' part."

In Goose's world, to "part" is to have flatulence.  

The kid was passing gas in the car and announcing it to Tink and I.  

Lucky. Us.

"Ok, buddy.  Farting is alright if you can't help it.  I mean, doing it outside 

in open air so we don't have to marinate in the fart is preferable, but if you've 

gotta do it, then you've gotta do it.  Let's hit the bathroom and try to poop 

when we get home. Deal?"

"Deal."

(Roughly 10 seconds later)

"Mommy!"

Goose is yelling again.

"Yes, baby?"

"I 'mell someting... I 'mell a 'tunt!"

"Uhhhhh... No, sir.  That isn't a skunk.  It is probably your fart."

"Mommy!  My part 'mell like a 'tunt!"

"Yep, sure does, Goose.  That is what the inside of your butt smells like."

He sits quietly, again, for just a few seconds.

"Mommy?" 

He is talking softly now.  

Well, relatively speaking, anyway.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I got a 'tunt in my butt?"

"No, baby.  You don't have a skunk in your butt."

"Why?"

"You just don't.  Let's not talk about skunks or butts or farts anymore."  

"Why?" 

"Because Mommy doesn't have any further explanation for why your 

butt smells like it does and I don't feel like trying to explain how I can be sure 

there is not a skunk living in your butt.  I just know there isn't one."

"Why?"

"I don't know.  Let's ask your daddy when he gets home."

Boom.

Silence.

And that is how you put a stop to the 

never-ending "why' questions and end a conversation.

Tell them you know nothing and they must ask the other parent.

Daddy is gonna be REALLY confused when 

Goose asks him about the skunk in his butt...