“Mommy,” Alex said the other day on the way home from piano lessons, and then paused. “Huh. I guess I’m old enough to start calling you ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ now.”
Nicholas, AKA The Parrot, repeated Alex’s words almost word for word. Usually it drives Alex insane and causes a great deal of shouting, but today he ignored it. “I’ve been old enough for a while, I guess,” he went on, “but I like calling you Mommy and Daddy.”
“I do too,” I said. “That’s why I haven’t been in a hurry to tell you to call me Mom.”
Beginning that night, guess who started calling me “Mom” instead of “Mommy?” Here’s a hint. H’s not yet four, and his name begins with N and ends with “icholas.”
And he’s not just calling me “Mom” automatically, without thought. No, he says it over and over. “Mom, I’m gonna use the toilet. Mom. Mom. Mom, I’m gonna use the toilet, Mom!” It’s clear he’s trying very hard to get me to react. So far I’ve managed not to let on that I’ve noticed. I’m hoping if he doesn’t get a rise out of me, he’ll cease & desist.
It’s a busy day today, and a busy weekend. I think everyone in the entire city is having birthday parties. Including us….
Julianna’s having a birthday party tomorrow for her school classmates. You know, when you have a child with special needs, you’re always on tenterhooks, worrying that she’s going to be made fun of or passed over. And when she’s nonverbal–we can’t even have her talking up her own party, or find out from other kids who thinks they’re coming. So we’re entirely dependent on RSVPs, and if you’ve given a party int he last few years you surely know no one RSVPs anymore. I was really worried that she was going to have a bust of a party, but we actually have six classmates who have responded now, so I’m happy.
Her celebration has extended a full week, with presents and cards arriving late and multiple celebrations. She’s really cute when she sings “Happy birthday,” but I have to admit that on the forty-seventh repetition it’s wearing a bit thin. Just a bit.
On a less cute subject: After Sandy Hook I didn’t really watch the news, but yesterday, in preparation for an article I’ve been assigned, I spent a good hour reading news reports about it. It was horrible. I spent the entire time bawling. And for several hours after, I was a lot more cognizant of what a blessing my kids are.
Speaking of Sandy Hook, and the various bickering going on ever since: does it bother anyone else that no one’s sacred cow could possibly be responsible? Schwarzenegger & Tarantino say don’t blame violent movies. The game makers say it’s not video games’ fault. Gun lobby says it’s not the guns’ fault. Some people want to say a weak ATF is the only problem. Mental health advocates say we can’t warn the public because of those sacred privacy regs. Essentially, everyone says “leave my baby alone, pick on someone else.” If no one and nothing is to blame, then what we’re saying is that we’re completely powerless, we can’t do anything at all, we just have to put up with twenty kids getting killed for no reason at all. Unconscionable, people. News flash: the only solution to a violent culture is one that address everything violent. Everyone is going to have to give a bit, or it’ll all just keep happening. (Read that post, btw. We all have a responsibility in this.)
Well, now that I have that off my chest: have a great weekend!