He’s so much more stylish now. (And bigger. And stronger. And smarter. And even more loving.)
He’s officially done with preschool, and in the fall will begin real Kindergarten.
We have so many serious conversations around here, it’s amazing my head doesn’t explode from trying to keep a straight face during the es-ee-ex part, not crying during the really sad ones, and maintaining my composure when discussing school rules vs. our family rules vs. other families’ rules.
Last night, interrupting my lovely singing, Alex asked a very serious question: “Who will take care of me if something bad happens to you?”
This stemmed from our earlier conversation about the cartoon Adventure Time, where it seems that the human boy was adopted by the dog boy’s parents. Alex and I have had many conversations for many years about kids that don’t have parents. He has understood from a young age that there are various reasons for biological parents to not be around. But this time the conversation went a step beyond where it always had been; instead of focusing on other kids, Alex finally brought it back to his own life.
I told him if something bad ever happened to me and I wasn’t able to take care of him, Daddy would, of course.
“Okay, but what if something bad happens to Daddy?”
“Well, then you would go live with Munga [his grandmother].”
“Okay, but what if something bad happens to Munga?”
“You could live with Nana and D [grandmother and grandfather].”
“Okay, but what if something happens to both of them?”
The list went on. Great Grandma. Great Uncle Mike. Cousins. Great Aunts. His “Uncle” and “Aunt” (Zach’s best friend and my best friend, since Zach and I are only children). Distant relatives. Close friends. Friends of the family. On and on and on. “But what if something happened to them? Then who would take care of me?”
Finally he settled on an acceptable answer: “Oh! I know! Michelle and Alexis could take care of me!”
I laughed and said, yes, we will add them to our list.
After tucking his sheet back around his shoulders, handing him his favorite Bear, and kissing his forehead, he got a serious look on his face and asked, “But…how would I get there? No one but you knows how to get to their house and you won’t be taking care of me anymore.”
“Well, buddy, you can always call a police man for help.”
Satisfied with the answer, he fell asleep almost immediately.
“I had a bad day, Mommy.”
Those were the first words Alex said to me when I picked him up one day last week. Usually he tells me he doesn’t want to come home because he wants to stay at school. Usually he’ll explain what fun game he was playing with his friends that can’t be interrupted just for dinner and bath time and bed time. Usually, if there are tears involved in pick-up it’s because he would rather stay with his teachers and friends than come home and hang out with his boring old parents.
Apparently, he had a bad day.
The reasons for the bad day aren’t entirely clear, but it had something to do with a fight with his friend, getting in trouble for something he claims he didn’t do, and not liking the snacks they served at school.
Life as a five year old is rough.
“What can I do to make your day a little better, buddy?”
“The only thing you could possibly do to make me happy you won’t do!”
After a lot of coaxing, he finally told me what that only thing that I could do to make him happy is: buy him a new toy.
Clearly that is not the best way to deal with a bad day (although I can’t blame him for the desire), so we brain stormed:
Movie night? No.
Movie night with popcorn?! No.
Playing on the swingset? No.
Going for a bike ride? No.
Taking a walk and looking for cool rocks/leaves/flowers/animals? No.
Changing into a bathing suit and playing in the sprinkler? No.
“Wait! …yes. That would make me happier!”
He didn’t even care that I couldn’t find the sprinkler and could only offer him the hose.