Double Sleepover Part Deux

Well last evening was an adventure and a half in our household. The boys were a little wild. I made farmer sausage for dinner. Now, since mom had her stroke three years ago and my own struggle with high blood pressure, I have pretty much eliminated the use of salt. I use Mrs. Dash products and if I am using salt it will be a small dash of Pink Himalayan. Well I ended up eating salad and T went for the corn only. The amount of salt was overwhelming. And though this would be an normal amount to most, it was as though we had dumped a box of salt on it before eating. As I am discovering that T does not want to eat the farmer sausage K-T pipes up that he too does not like farmer sausge. Now, I had just finished texting with M who said he would never leave here because he loves farmer sausage. I looked at him and told him exactly that. His response, oh yeah that is right as he pops another piece in his mouth. The kid cleaned his plate leaving veggies behind but eating all the farmer sausage.
The boys spent the majoirty of the evening rowing their boats, racing their cars, playing with lego. A few times I hollered out at them from my perch on my bed to watch it they were going to hit their heads on a) the floor in the kitchen b) the coffee table in the living room. I informed them that I was not going to spend my whole night in the ER because one or both of them have cracked their heads open. This only cut down on the shenanigans for a brief moment but they are boys. Incapable of thinking about the pain until it happens to them.
They disappeared into the bathroom and I heard giggling and splashing. I was not too alarmed as T often does this. Goes in and mixes a bunch of colognes, hand soap and Axe bodywash in the sink. Than he puts his boats or cars in there. Not entirely sure what that is all about as I try very hard to not go in there when he does this. The reason being that the cloying smell of the three mixed Axe colognes coat my tongue and the back of my throat. It is horrendous as it lingers there for an incredibly long time. Both boys are suddenly standing in the doorway to my bedroom (this is my sanctuary little boys are not allowed over the threshold) asking if they can have a bath. I inform them that this is totally inappropriate at their age and they trump me with ‘but we are going to wear swimming trunks.’
Okay so what harm could it cause if I were to say yes? I can see you all shaking your heads and asking if I have gone insane. Why on earth would I allow them to take a bath? Well for one they would be clean, cleared of all the chocolate smeared on their faces and they would not stink. Unless they reapplied the Axe. I was hopeful. A mother can wish can’t she?
I can hear them banging around in there and a few times I poked my head in to make sure all was good. The last time I realized they had taken two
St. Ives face washes (full) and used them in the bathtub. All of them. I may have had a small flip out. Did not raise my voice but informed T that his money was going to be used to replace them. I was a little harsher than I should have been. I can only use the banishment to my bedroom as an excuse. Lastly when I went into the bathroom once they were out, I realized that my brand new bottle of Wild Honeysuckle cream that I had not used yet was missing some. I stuck my head out of the bathroom waving the bottle and asking if they used it. Both boys adamently denied it.
We were all in bed by 10:30. I turned my phone off which is rare for me but I figured that nothing important would happen over night. Boy was I wrong. K was having a small issue and I awoke at 6 a.m. to discover 6 1 minute voice texts on messenger. You would be surprised what a woman could say in 6 minutes. I groggily sent a return message and said I would respond more coherently when I had some coffee in me. (As an aside the Ex sent me an apology last night which made me cry)
I am in brushing my teeth when I realize that there is a blob of cream in the bathroom sink so I go out with toothbrush in the corner of my mouth and the bottle of body cream in the other. I explained to the boys that I had them. There was a clump in the bottom of the sink. T looks at me and says but we did not use in the sink, we used it in the bathtub. I stared at him incredulously. Did he really try to get out of this on a technicality? Because I said sink and not bathtub? I laughed. (I had taken the toothbrush out of my mouth so they weren’t only hearing a mumble of words). I told T that he should be a lawyer if he was going to do that. And than I said that they should never lie to me. Stretch the truth. Twist it on a technicality. I will always find out. And as my son and adopted son I am always going to know when they are lying. Our relationship will be much happier without the lies.
I am busy pouring my coffee when I notice K-T searching in his bag of chocolates. I look over and ask what he is doing? He looks at me like I have grown two heads and says having chocolate. Like hell you are having chocolate at 6:30 a.m. your mother will never allow you to come and spend the night again! (My head words not what came out of my mouth) I said no way jose. In this household we do not consume pop or chocolate prior to noon. Than I asked if M would allow him to eat chocolate at such an early hour. To which (and I will hear all of you groan) his reply was well not if she doesn’t notice. I explained that that was sneaky and we don’t do sneaky. M hide the chocolate from now on. LOL  He tried again at 9 a.m., I have to give the kid credit for being persistent.
I love these boys I do. They have had another bath with swimming trunks on. Much slipping and sliding all over the tub. I could hear it. Finally went in and told them that they needed to stop it. Someone was going to crack their head on the faucet and that would mean a day spent in the ER while they awaited stitches. And once more I was not going to spend my day doing so. Are you catching onto the theme here? I do not want to spend my time in the ER because they are not thinking.   And once more  according to the law and M I would not be allowed to just dump them and run.
We will be going for a walk at some point today. Once it warms up. At the moment it is -13 Celsius and the real feel is -22. For you Southerners that is 8.6 Fahrenheit  with a real feel of -7.6. Also the boys will be learning to wash dishes. Clean the living room. Well maybe I’ll let the living room slide because they want to build a blanket fort and that is way more cooler than cleaning it.

It’s the shortest and most ancient

Last Wednesday as T and me are driving to the dentist we are talking about his lack of reading. And how much it kills me because I am a voracious reader and I just do not understand. He does say to me ‘mom I know that it really bothers you and I do read, just not the way you do.’ Okay so maybe he might be humoring me but as I squinted at him sideways he grinned at me and I could not argue any further.

And than this happened:

‘So mom, you know the Eiffel Tower?’

I am a little confused because he is pronouncing the E like an I and I am not quite sure what he is asking me. So I make him repeat it at least three times before I understand.

‘Do you mean the Eiffel Tower in Paris?’

‘Yeah, I was researching it today. Did you know that it is the shortest building in the world?’

‘Um no buddy it isn’t. It is very tall. I think you might be confused because they give the height in meters.’

‘C’mon mom, I know.’

‘Buddy, no I am sorry. That is not true. It was an amazing creation. A masterpiece of it’s time. In WWII they actually blacked it out during a blitz so the Germans could not find it. I know buddy because I have read about this. There is an amazing book……’

‘So mom, when you win the lottery can we go to Paris? I wanna see the Eiffel Tower.’

‘Sure buddy. And maybe we need to do a little more research so you understand a little better.’

‘Hey mom, did you know in Egypt they have an ancient pyramid.’

And I must be a sucker for punishment. I know that he is 8 and I know that he will garble his facts but my OCD nature and just because the facts must be right, I have to correct him. Hence all the wonderful conversations we have had.

‘So which pyramid are we talking about?’

‘You know mom, that really ancient one.’

‘Um are we talking the Sphinx? The Giza Pyramids? The Valley of Kings?’

Moooooooooom, you know the ancient one.’

So I gave up. I listened to his happy chatter and bit my tongue. I tried not to point out to him that there were a lot of pyramids in Egypt. I ignored his facts on the Eiffel Tower. However he was really excited about the way the workers had to work on platforms that were on the outside of the tower. This is going to require further investigation.

So maybe I should actually consider this a win on the reading front? T might not be interested in reading fiction the way that I am. But he is showing an interest in history. I love history…….but shhhhhhhhh I have a secret, I like all history but Canadian. We are just so boring. LOL This is a starting point and from here I will push him into the deep end and nurture the need to learn about the past.

At least I know now that a trip to Paris and Egypt is on the books should I ever win the lottery.

Male Best Friends

I am not a boy.  I do not understand the male (and I paint all  males with the same brush for the purpose of this blog) fascination with cars/trucks, things mechanical, hunting, naked boobs, penises and of course farting. I do however have an 8 year old son so I am learning to appreciate a fine fart.

As I write this T and his best friend are in my bathroom peeing into the toilet side by side.  They have been friends since they were two and one and a half respectively. They have bathed together, slept in the same bed for last six years on sleepovers.  And they really really miss one another when they are apart.

My ex and me have joint custody.  We share one week on and one week off.  My son’s best friend lives next door to me.  Literally next door to me.  And when my son is not here, he pines for  him and vise versa.  Sunday mornings find me receiving texts asking at what time is T coming home. Does he miss K? K is waiting for T…..what time is he coming again.  Within seconds of my son arriving home, he is out the door and into K’s house or K is bursting through my door.

During the school week due to the shifts that I work, the boys do not get to see one another a lot.  Tuesday if K’s mom picks up T from the sitter’s. Wednesday for like half an hour before K goes to hockey. And than comes Friday and Saturday. From four p.m. on Friday until approximately 7 p.m. on Saturday these boys are inseperable. Except for bedtime and if they can wheedle a sleepover out of us, they don’t even have to be apart for the night.

Today K’s mom had a migraine so lucky K got to skip school and stay home. Cool, until I mentioned it to T who decided that it was totally unfair that when I was sick I made him got to school. K has been waiting patiently all day for T. And at 3:25 pm the texts begin.

“K is looking at the clock.”

“15 minutes until the bell rings. Why do all these dickheads have to park like right up my butt?’

“K says ok. I dunno cause they are a**holes?”

“10 minutes to bell rings. They are all dumb bums.”

“Lol that rhymes.”

“5 minutes until bell rings.”

“K says to me: I have been longing for T all day and I bet that T is longing for me.”

Both moms are speechless. Longing at 8 for each other?

As I wait the 15 minutes for T to be released from school I continue to receive texts from K’s mom ( who is my best friend how is that for a great story?) about how K is waiting and patiently watching the clock for us to get home.

Finally the school bell rings and voila my child comes bolting for the car. And after my sitting out there for 15 minutes T wants to walk home. My response was oh hell no, I sat here for 15 minutes get your butt in here and K is waiting for you. Well into the car he scrambled and onward mom let’s go.

We pulled into the complex and as I drove into my parking spot I look over at the neighbor’s and there is K jumping up and down in his window. Waving away so pumped because T is home. T bolts from the car and dances around the parking lot calling “K” like Brando screams Stella in ‘A Streetcar named Desire’.

They are the best of friends. They do the weirdest stuff together. They tell one another secrets and their dreams and all the things that they would never tell their moms. They look like brothers. Come June, they are going to be living in different cities, approximately 45 minutes apart depending on driving conditions.

I never had a best friend when I was 8. They say that any friendship that last longer that 7 years is destined to last forever. I look at these two brothers who were born of different mothers and I know that I will be dancing at K’s wedding just as M will be dancing at T’s. They will always be there for one another. They will always have one another’s backs. I am sure that if T has issues K will come running to his rescue and I know damn well that T will run to his. I am a little envious that I do not have a childhood best friend, a friend who knows all my secrets, all the inside jokes. But I am so happy that K and T have found one another and will be best friends for life. What I am not looking forward to is the next 10 years of fart and poop jokes. And dear lord, can  I just skip the teen years?

The Narcissism of Youth

Wow. Just total wow.

I am speaking to my son tonight, pumped because I have like my 5th follower on my blog. I am thrilled beyond belief that 5 people like the way that I write. (The fact that at least two of them are friends does not kill my buzz at all!)

Son: “Mom what is a follower?”

Me: “Someone who likes my writing and is reading what I wrote.”

Son: “So basically they like me. ‘Cause  like all you write about is me; so they just like me.”

Me: “Ummmmm no I do not solely write about you. I write about other things too.”

Son: “Moooooom, what is more important than me?”

Me: (In head) Fuck Fuck Shit yeah. So despite the fact that I do write about other things, my narcissistic son believes that my entire life revolves around him. (And he is not wrong)