Like Mother, Like Son Or Is It The Other Way Around?

Five minutes from home, I noticed a voice mail message on my cell phone.

“I hope you receive this before you get home but #2son is complaining of a stomach ache. He’s in the infirmary now and you’ll need to come pick him up.”

I just dropped them off at school 20 minutes ago. He seemed fine.

It figures.

I was raised in a Western Medicine household. My great-uncle was our pediatrician. My mother was a intensive care nurse. There are more nurses, a surgeon and a general practitioner.

So I go off and marry a man who practices Eastern Medicine. I could just have well married a man from Mars.

“Are you sure these herbs are safe?” “Why am I taking all three of these?” “What does this one do?” “What if I just took that herb?” “I’m supposed to take how many? Are you sure that’s the right dose?” “Will this react with anything else I’m taking?”

My husband calls me his worst patient.

It’s OK.

He’s right.

When we arrive home, I call my husband. I tell him the symptoms our 6-year-old son is experiencing and he confirms my diagnosis. Well, not my diagnosis, but the herbs that I was planning on giving him.

“What did Daddy say?”

“He said it sounds like a damp cold pathogen in your digestion,” I tell him, getting the herbs from the cabinet.

“What are you giving me?”

“OK,” I say to my son, “These are for your tummy and these herbs are just in case it’s something more.”

“Something more?” my son asks.

“Yes. More than just a tummy ache.”

“But what if it’s not? What if it’s just a tummy ache?” He holds up the second dose of herbs to show me.  “Will these pills damage my body if it’s not just a tummy ache?”

“No, those herbs will not damage your body if it’s not just a tummy ache.” I’m fighting back the giggles.

“Are you sure?” He questions.

By now I’m laughing. I can’t help myself.

“You ARE your mother’s son!” I say.

“Of course I am, ” he quips, exasperated, “Everyone can see that!”

Yes. Yes they can.

 

(My week started out with two heavy posts so I’ve ended my week with some light-hearted family entertainment. I usually don’t focus on my kids too much here so if this isn’t what you’re looking for, I apologize. I suppose I’ve been spending some time lately counting my blessings. (And now #1son is going to wonder why he didn’t get any press time. I’d better start cracking!) Stay tuned next week for more thought-provoking words of wisdom. Or not. You’ll just have to wait and see!)

Heard While Trying to Concentrate on a Much More Prolific Post

#2son – We were made to play Legos!

#1son – You are under arrest for making too good a starship…..Can you make me one?

#2son – It’s easy! Just do step one, two, three and you’re done!

#1son – Dooo, doo, doh, doh, doh,  (high pitched whistling)

#2son – Tarter Sauce! I wanted to play with that train! (Oops…I think they’re watching too much Spongebob)

#1son – Chugga, chugga, toot, toot! Ha, ha – get it? Toot? Like you tooted? Did you toot? Hey, I can toot on purpose!

#2son – Brrrrrrmm. Brrrrrrrmm. Brrrrrrrmm. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmm.

#1son – Don’t forget to flush! That’s gross!

#2son- When I was a baby I didn’t need this much fun!

#1son- Pshhhhhh. Boot. Boot. Boot. Pshhhhhh.  (What IS IT with boys and sound effects?)

#2son – Arrrrrrr, Matey! Wanna sail the seven seas with me? Ask mom if we can take a bath.

#2son – MOM! Do you have any  knives? We want to see if this is magnetic.

Wordless Wednesday – First Fishing Trip

 

 

What Do You Do With A Goofy Sailor?

Our youngest, age 5, has become a little too comfortable in his classroom of late and his teacher brought it to our attention. I asked her to text me with updates. It’s been well over a week since we talked so I thought things were going well. Yesterday morning we received our first text from her.

“#2son has needed constant redirection and has been excessively silly today. Have a great weekend! – Mrs. Wonderful”

I begin to laugh. And then I think, there’s some great blog fodder in here, I know it. But I’m laughing too hard to type.

First, let me say #2son’s teacher truly is wonderful. I love her to death and she is perfect for our son, hence the name Mrs. Wonderful.

But there’s this part of me that wants to say, then deal with him. What can I do about it from home?

Then there’s the part of me that wants to do what my friend suggested and text her back with “Well, then TGIF, right?”

Then there’s another part of me that knows exactly, EXACTLY, what she’s dealing with and I’m with her – what can we do about it?

And still another part of me is still cracking up over the quick little sentence closed with “Have A Great Weekend!”

#2son is the class clown. And adorable. And sweet, imaginative and funny. Needs redirection? All. The. Time. Excessively silly? You betcha. He wants to be an actor. He performs in front of the mirror constantly. He is continually in Imaginary Land. His world is punctuated with sound effects. One day he’s fighting aliens. Or a sailor on the high seas standing on the couch with his spyglass looking for shark. The next day he’s a pirate, or Yoda, or Spiderman (especially funny when I see him trying to adhere to the walls).

 

When he got into the car at carpool I asked him how his day was. “Good,” he replied. That’s not what Mrs. Wonderful said, I told him. “Oh,” he said. Long dramatic pause. Then he said, “Well, it sure was good to ME!”

See what I mean? I started laughing all over again.
Thank goodness my husband is the disciplinarian in our family. Obviously, I’m not cut out for this.