Monkey Boy

From the time that he was a tiny babine, I've always thought that JT looked like a monkey. He had dark hair and dark eyes and he browned right up his very first summer. But for his chubby cheeks, he was always a slim and lithe baby. And as my baby became a boy, he still looked like a monkey to me. He jumps about and swings from the monkey bars at the park down the street. And if it looks like a monkey and sounds like a monkey........you get the idea.

Maybe because I called him monkey boy or maybe for some other reason, he's always liked monkeys. One of his favorite baby stuffies was a tiny monkey and a few years ago he made a stuffed monkey at Build-A-Bear that he continues to adore. So when he saw a beguiling brown monkey at Animal Kingdom, I knew that it was coming home with us. JT carefully counted out his saved dollars and the monkey promptly joined our family.

As we packed up tonight, there was some debate: should the new monkey go in the suitcase or would it be safer for him to travel on the plane with us? As if there were any choice, I thought to myself, as JT and the new monkey lie next to in another in bed, looking remarkably alike. Then JT made the final call: both the monkey boy and the boy's monkey will be sitting next to Mama on the plane ride home tomorrow.

He's 7 and I feel that these moments of his childhood are fleeting. When I get frustrated or when I'm tired of being the on-call single Mama, I remind myself that his life is flying by. Soon stuffed monkeys and pirate toys will be flung aside for video games, cell phones, and the trappings of adolescence. I don't want to wonder where the time went without knowing that I made the most of that time. I want to be a Mama of quality and quantity of time. So tomorrow I'll have a little boy and a monkey by my side. And I'll be happier for it.

Ingredients for a Perfect Day

One baseball game - Yankees v. Braves (Yankees win, 5-3)
Ice cream sundaes for supper
Pirate costume ----- with tattoos
Splash Mountain with your Mama - at night
Staying up really, really late ---- past midnight
Miss Amy
A ride on Peter Pan ----- the story that began this obsession so many years ago

And when it's all said and done your little boy will announce that it was "the night of a lifetime."

Indeed.

Go Fetch

Today's Spring Break adventure featured an extensive game of Mama fetch. The deal is that JT is utterly fascinated by my ability to skim along underwater and fetch the diving rings. It's a skill I honed during the hot summer days of my childhoood in California. And, along with the flip-flop induced giant space between our big toe and the junior toes that follow, this shared talent is how I know my sister is actually my sister and not some smart-mouthed imposter. Who knew that it would be this skill that convinces JT that I'm worth having around on a daily basis? But it is and I was happy to oblige. So we played Mama fetch this afternoon. The warm sun added a few freckles to our matching noses and there was plenty of laughter.

Summer vacation is soon, yes?

Fun, Mama Style

One of the hardest things about being the only full-time parent in the house is that you are so busy getting the chores done that fun runs the risk of becoming just another chore. I don't want JT to grow up thinking that the only way that I showed him my love and affection was by getting the laundry done. I have fond memories of fun things that I shared with my parents and so I very much want him to have happy memories of fun times with me.

So I banked some fun today at Animal Kingdom. We rode the Mt. Everest ride 3 times, I consented to yet another stuffed animal to join the herd at our home, and I took photos of the snake he had painted on his face. We had a really great day. And we'll both have memories of the fun we can have together.

Pool Shark

Yes, the pun is intended. I am my father's daughter, you know.

We've had a lovely afternoon playing and relaxing.

Lost

On our first day of vacation, we headed off to the Disney/MGM theme park in Orlando. By the middle of the day, JT was ready for a break and so while the rest of our party went off to ride the Muppets ride, he and I went to the Honey I Shrunk the Kids playground. There I had a seat and a cool bottle of water while JT ran around among the giant paperclips and spider webs. The playground was swarming with kids.

I have the sort of kid who knows his way about and so while I sat in our pre-arranged spot, he ran around, checking in every few minutes to tell me about something cool that he had done. I people-watched as I waited. There was a mom who had lost her child and was looking pretty frantically about the playground. The nice Disney people were on the case and within about 15 minutes she had found her boy. He looked to be about 4 and was as happy to find her as she was to find him. While the other kids ran about, they just stood amidst the chaos, holding one another. Glad to have found one another; glad to be together again. They looked perfect with one another, no longer frantic and separate but now peaceful and whole.

As I watched this all unfold, I was wondering what I would do if I lost track of JT. It's never happened and so I don't really know. But the very thought just leaves me cold with fear. Since Lisa left, despite my anger at her, I've sometimes felt sorry for her because she doesn't get to see JT every day. She has a new life that gives her 5 hours a week to make that connection that was once a part of her daily life. And mad as I am at her, I sometimes have felt sad on her behalf. I know that I couldn't stand to live that way. And I used to believe that she felt the same way.

But as I watched that other mama and her boy this afternoon, I realized that Lisa made this choice for herself. She knew exactly what it would mean when she left me; that she would lose her daily connection with JT. And she left anyway.

So she doesn't really deserve my sadness, because this is the life she chose for herself. But I also realized this afternoon that one day my son will be a grown man, hopefully with a child of his own to love. And he will know the overwhelming feelings that being a parent brings. He'll feel that sense of awe and joy that you feel when you watch your child. He'll take pride in his child's accomplishments, both little (he weighs 10 pounds – finally!) and big (he can read!). He'll feel that love so deep it creates a well of strength that you never knew you had. When that happens to him, he will also know exactly what it was that Lisa was giving up when she left.

And I hope by then he is no longer hurt by the choice that she made. I hope by then that I will have shown him what a terrific and wonderful person he is. I hope by then that the love he has been shown by so many other wonderful adults in his world will have made up for what he lost when she left. I hope by then that he also knows that her choice was her loss.

Superstition – Sunday Scribblings

I'm not sure that I would call myself a superstitious girl, though I am cautious. I wouldn't step on a crack (for fear I'd break my mother's back) and if I spill salt, I toss some over my shoulder. My life hasn't really been governed by these practices. On the other hand, since I am a cautious person, I have had a life-long tendency to develop patterns and to stick with them. I even find comfort in these patterns. So I used the same ink pen to take every final exam I ever took at UCLA. I have a calming mantra that I repeat to myself in nervous moments. And the pattern goes further than that: for nearly every year of my life since I was a little girl, I have bought a new pair of Keds sneakers in the spring. There are other things as well, but I think that you get the idea.

I wouldn't say that I resist change, because I don't think that's the case. But I have always sought continuity in the midst of change and change that I didn't create or didn't want makes me very anxious. Sometimes it makes me feel utterly powerless. So the upheaval in my life last summer was unwelcome and hard for me. Because it was unexpected I hadn't had the opportunity to gird myself for what was coming. And in the aftermath, I decided that as I approach the age of 40, I need to do a better job of rolling with the punches, or at least being prepared to roll with the punches when they come my way.

So I have broken with some of my traditions. It makes me a little nervous to do so. But it also feels freeing in an unexpected way. I still got some new sneakers this spring, but they aren't Keds. I got some K-Swiss this year. It may not look all that different but it feels new to me. And when I look at my feet while I'm walking around in Florida next week I will hopefully be reminded that changes, even the unexpected ones, can be good.

My Enchanted March

In preparation for my upcoming vacation I have been re-reading Elizabeth von Arnim's 1922 book The Enchanted April. The novel is the story of four women who leave dreary wet London in April for a stay at medieval Italian castle cloaked in wisteria and sunshine. The story is indeed enchanting, as the castle and the holiday prove quite perfect.

I'm not headed to San Salvatore but I am leaving cold wet New Jersey for a week in Orlando, Florida with some friends. The promise of a warm pool and hot tub, weather that demands sandals, and a trip to Disneyworld is pretty enchanting right now. JT is excited well beyond belief, and he told his first grade teacher that he didn't think he could fit in any homework because he would be "too busy in the pool, the hot tub, on the roller coasters, and stuff like that."

I'm tired and worn out from the demands of single mamahood. And I still miss parts of my old life. But this upcoming week will be a chance to renew and relax and a reminder that my new life is coming along nicely.

PS: If you haven't read the book, go right out and pick up a copy. It will make you anticipate the coming spring with that much more happiness, knowing that you'll soon be feeling the warm sun.

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

Yes, that's the emotion I feel when I pop downstairs to the basement to toss the load of laundry I just washed into the dryer and I open the dryer to find that it's empty. Yippee! Now I can dry my freshly washed load of clothes without having to fold another load.

It's a slice of housewife heaven.

Mystery

For some reason there is a tent in my classroom. It's in a bag and is a two family hexagonal tent. Looks nice. Might be good as an extra tent in Cape Cod this summer. But I have no earthly idea why it's in my classroom, nor do I know who left it here.

Weird.