Cabin Girl

Thursday was crazy hat day in the lower school and after much debate, JT settled on a fancy pirate hat. All that velvet and gold could only signal one thing: he is the captain of the SS Sassafras. And that means that I am the Cabin Girl, as he promptly announced when he put on the hat.

"Hop to it, Cabin Girl," he ordered me, "and get me my breakfast."

I complied with the orders and then another job was thrown my way. "My ship is moving around too much and I had a bad aim in the bathroom," the Captain announced, "you'll need to swab the deck in here."

"Cook the breakfast and swab the decks?" I complained, "I don't want to be the cabin girl anymore."

"At least you have a job," the Captain responded.

Geez, now that I think about it, the Captain must be a Republican.

Over It

It's midterm week here at my school and that means lots of grading.

Yippee.

Teachers all have their own way of getting things done. Mine is to place the exams in one pile, and then place the answer key just to the left of the pile. I'm right-handed and that facilitates fast movement with the pen of wisdom.

Or whatever it is.

So this morning, I'm having a difficult time and can't quite figure out why I'm having to reach across the answer key to make comments (thus covering up the things I've written on the key). I'm annoyed.......and for several more minutes than I care to admit in this public forum.

Then I realize: I've got my grading pile disorganized. Key on the right; pile on the left. Improper formatting.

Duh.

So glad that it's me in charge of this situation and not some incompetent teacher.

A Tough Crowd

The other night, JT got out a bunch of little guys and played school with them. It's an odd assortment of students, featuring some pirates, a few knights, and some of the settlers from Jamestown (those who survived the starvation, disease, and malnutrition). Many of the students attended class with weaponry in hand.

Clearly, it's an unusual school.

If that wasn't already clear, the following conversation showed me that JT's Prep School is a special place.

JT (as the teacher): I like the way Bill is being so quiet.

Pirate student (also the voice of JT): Yeah, well Bill is so quiet because he's dead.

And when I looked carefully, Bill was a skeleton lying by a barrel of rum (he's on the left in the front row.....the bones are bleached out). I guess that would explain why he's so quiet.

Someone better call the Department of Education.

Real Life Conversations with JT: Faux Pas edition

The backstory: Today, I joined JT's class and several other 2nd grade parents for a baby shower for Mrs. Q (who expects to deliver a baby any minute now). When I left the party, I went over to the table where JT was sitting with several of his buddies. In an unguarded moment, I committed a parental sin: I kissed him on the head in front of his pals. To his credit, JT flinched only a little. I quickly covered up my inappropriate actions by then kissing every boy within reach. M and D couldn't escape me and got a kiss. A few others hopped out of reach while shouting "cooties." Tonight, as I was tucking him in bed, I kissed JT on the head and he looked at me askance.

Mama: Sorry about that kiss in front of your buddies today. I didn't mean to embarrass you.

JT: It was okay, but don't do it again.

Mama: Even if I kiss all the little boys in your class?

JT: Do that, and you'll have an angry mob on your tail.

I've been warned.

Taming the Beast

When JT was a baby, my friend Janet made him two beautiful afghans. By the time he was a year old, these blankets were the top of the heap. We carried them everywhere; all of the time. Known as Blanky and Softy, they were his most favorite lovies. Even today, at the ancient age of 7, he still sleeps with them.

As part of the cleaning frenzy that occupied my day today, I washed Blanky and Softy. When JT spied me folding laundry and realized that Blanky and Softy were sweet-smelling and warm from the dryer, he cuddled right up with them.

It made such a sweet picture. And the quiet? That was pretty sweet as well.

Daydream Drought

This year I've decided to re-read the L.M. Montgomery books about Anne of Green Gables. There are 6 all together in the series and as an adolescent I loved those books for several reasons. I loved them for the hopeful story ---- about a young orphan girl who finds a home and family with an aging brother and sister, the Cuthberts ---- and for the beautiful descriptions of Prince Edward Island.

But mostly I loved them because of Anne's rich inner life. Anne has a dramatic, expansive imagination and she uses it to imagine herself right into a very happy life. As a girl, I was an inveterate daydreamer myself, imagining a future life well-different from my suburban California existence. I dreamt of new places and new experiences. Like Anne, I believed that in dreaming and imagining, I could make my deepest desires come true. I thought of Anne as my secret soul mate. Finally, someone who felt just like me, even if she was just a character in a book. I daydreamed myself right into adulthood and beyond, with myriad plans for my future.

That's a secret I've never told anyone.

19 months ago the daydreaming suddenly halted. I thought that it would be temporary but the daydream drought continues. I think it's one of the reasons I have had such a difficult time adjusting to the change in my world. For the first time in my life, I can't daydream; I cannot picture my future. My imagination fails me so much these days that I have trouble picturing the end of the month, let alone some point in the future when I will feel whole again. My imagination is no longer up to the challenge of picturing my future and I hadn't realized how much I would miss it. So it's been nice to make Anne's acquaintance again, to realize that it will be well worth my time to work a little harder to re-acquaint myself with the part of me who isn't afraid to dream of the future.

Tiger is the Boss of Me

Tiger likes to sit in my lap and be petted. That's fine, but lately he wants to sit on my lap while I am at the table, working on my computer. There's plenty of room, though Tiger is inconvenienced when I use my hands to type, periodically huffing loudly and then re-arranging himself on my lap.

It's as if my lap is there for his convenience and me, using my own body, IS NOT PERMITTED.

Well Mannered

As my boy approaches the ripe old age of 8, he's been engaged in steady self-improvement. He uses please and thank you almost all the time; he often remembers to hold the door when my hands are full; he's an ace at grocery cart returns (the same cannot be said for anyone else in New Jersey). I'm proud to see how kind and well-mannered he is.

At school, he's been practicing using good table manners. Today, the second grade took a trip to a local restaurant to demonstrate their freshly minted table manners. He got a haircut and pulled out his best duds for the trip. He was very excited as he headed off to school this morning. Then, JT and his dressed-up classmates headed off to politely order lunch, keep their elbows off the table, and remember to sit in their chairs while they eat.
He came home and reported that he liked Caesar salad (or at least would be willing to try it again). And he's a big fan of tiramisu. He reports that the waiters were very kind and he hopes they got a big tip. "It's hard work looking after second graders," he announced.

But honestly, a kid like him (mostly) makes the job easy.

Old Man Jammies

The boy received three pairs of pajamas for Christmas ----- a very good thing as his old jammies had grown too small, leaving wrists and ankles exposed to the chill in his mama's house. This pair is his favorite because they are his "old man jammies"......apparently, the elderly wear flannel pajamas with pockets.

I think that he looks incredibly cute in these pajamas, though he rejects that description as he feels that cute doesn't adequately describe the rugged manliness that these pajamas bring to his appearance.

Filling the Gap

JT has a mouth prone to cavities and so for the last year he's been going to the dentist every 4 months instead of every 6 months. He's had to have a filling at the last two visits and this has generally made him cranky.

It also means that he dreads going to the dentist.

His 4 month check-up was last week and when he was saying goodbye to his other mom last Sunday, she wished him good luck at the dentist and asked me to let her know how the check-up goes.

Why? I asked myself.

When she was a part of our daily life, we would have phoned her on our way home from the dentist. We used to talk about her all of the time. But she's not a daily presence in our life anymore, a choice that she made. It's a choice that I fundamentally do not understand. I do understand that for JT's behalf, I have to pretend that she cares about his well-being. I don't want him to feel the pain of her departure any more than he does, so I pretend, reminding JT that she loves him when the topic of Lisa comes up.

Despite the fact that the topic of Lisa comes up less and less often, it's getting harder and harder to keep up the façade that the Mommy who walked out of his daily life actually matters to his daily life.

I believe that it is in the daily living that a child is raised and learns the values that will shape his world. It is in the daily life that a family is made. The routines, the patterns, the commonplace moments, and the inside jokes....these are the daily life that JT and I have.

And Lisa is no longer a part of it.