Mental

Today, an elderly lady came over, from the church.

Z, of course, was in a costume. Cat in the Hat this time. His little face peeking out from underneath his candy-cane striped hat.

"He's usually in a costume of some kind", I explained.

"You should look that up on Google to see what that means", she replied.

I must have looked confused.

"To see what that means, mentally, I mean", she replied.

Huh.

The Trade

So, as I was saying....

Basil arrived home with a penny and much, much more.

We were still in the van, driving through the endless trees to our home, when I heard Z say, "YUM! This is the best cookie ever!" (They weren't. They were dry and stale-looking.)

I said to K, "Wow! B just SHARED!!! Can you imagine!? He SHARED! Without us even suggesting it. Amazing. We should encourage him. This might be a first! We should give him a quarter to reinforce kind behavior!" (Really. I am not exaggerating. The kid doesn't naturally share. Ever.)

And then........

And then, I heard B say, (in a little-kid evil villain voice) "Yes! All the toys in our room are mine. All mine!"

I turned in my seat, and said, "Um, what was that, dear sharing son of mine?"

"Z said if I gave him a bite of my cookie, he would give me all the toys in our room. Even his [cherished] zoo keeper."

E'hem.

So much for sharing.

A Dime

The other day, B wanted to stop at the store to spend his DIME.

I said to the boy, "Boy, you will not, in this life time, find anything worth buying for a DIME."

And he stood, head held high, shoulders stiff. (I think that's his "Why do you STILL question me?" look.)

Because we needed bread anyway, we stopped at the grocery store.

He marched down the aisles with great purpose, checking the prices on every kid-level item.

Items that he would never need; like those panty hose eggs I didn't even know they sold anymore.

And hairspray.

Boxes of cereal. And soup.

An older man asked him what he was trying to find, and I told him: "He's looking for something that costs a dime", and the man laughed LOUDLY, and offered, "Good luck to ya, kid!"

B gave him The Look and kept walking. And searching.

While I tried to decide between wheat and rye bread, the boy came upon a magical bin of bulk food cookies. His eyes lit up. "One of these?", he gulped.

I really wasn't sure, because I suck at math, and the price was listed by the pound. I told him he could pick one out, and he could owe me if it was more than the tent cents he had in his grimy hand.

The price of the freaking cookie?

Nine cents.

The kid went home with a penny. He proudly went home with a penny, I mean.

And apparently, he arrived home with LOTS more. I'll get to that tomorrow.

Mr. Z

This is a Z Day, I guess. Let's all sit around and discuss a few of his most endearing traits, Shall we? You know, the traits that could also drive a mom inSANE!?

Trait #1: That whole Immediate Gratification Thing? Ahem. Yup. That's him.
The kid WILL NOT wait for anything. He gave the Taco Bell cashier his change the other day (after we had already paid with a credit card), because he couldn't wait until we arrived at the store to spend it.

We saw a Spiderman figure at Meijers on Saturday. One that shot webs from his fingers and could "climb" walls and stuff. One that said cool things, like "Hey. I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman!" It was on clearance for $6. I asked Z if he wanted to save up for it, and he quickly answered, "No. I don't want to save up for anything." While he still talks about that Spiderman he "SO wanted" at the store, he hasn't changed his mind about saving up for it.

Z helps with various chores around the house, and I'll pay him a quarter or so. He CANNOT WAIT to go out and spend his newly-earned money. He cannot think about anything else. The coins literally burn a hole in his pocket (or something to that effect, because he always seems to lose it) unless he spends it that very day. (It's pretty unlikely that we'll run out the door for him to spend his money, so it has usually disappeared before we get to go anywhere. I keep thinking, "Poor kid." But the truth is, he doesn't really care that much.)

Trait #2: PEOPLE PERSON.
The boy gets his energy; (his happiness, his joy, his ability to LIVE) from interacting with other people.
The kids still have quiet time every day. For two hours. Partly for my sanity. Partly because they are with each other all day, every day, and I think it is good for them to develop the skill of entertaining themselves.
Z can hardly stand it. He used to pop his head out every five minutes (or seconds?) and ask, "Is it done yet?" He can tell time now, so he has no excuse on that end. But he STILL comes out to ask every other question he can think of. "Did we eat lunch?" "When is Papa coming home?" "Can you fix my Spiderman costume (the one that has been broken for the last 2 months)?" "Why is my hair white but B's is brown?"
The rule is he can come out to go to the bathroom, but besides that, he has five minutes added to his quiet time for every time he opens his door. He doesn't care. He just WANTS to see SOMEONE! Usually, he ends up taking a nap; not so much because he is tired, but because he just can't handle the quiet!

(Just a second ago, he opened his door, and I responded with, "E (Proper 1st name even!), shut that door." And he did shut it. I just had to remind him to go IN his room before he shut that freaking door.

The other day, Z was having too much fun outside. I asked him to come in, and he pretended to not hear me. He did come in, finally, but he missed his opportunity to eat lunch. He was a little upset (while not that much effected, because nothing really bugs him too much, really). I said, "Z, usually life is better if you do what we ask you to do." And he said, "Yeah, well, better isn't always funner." And that, folks, is the third trait of our boy's.

Trait #3: Looks for the FUN in Every Situation.
Usually, I am so overjoyed to have a kid that likes to have fun. But sometimes, like when he got bored sitting in church (he was sitting by an elderly friend of his, so I had no control) and decided to walk up the middle aisle and in FRONT of the speaker to find something more fun to do, which involved clomping down the echo-ey staircase and down into the basement. (?!) I could have beat the little punk. (I mean "beat" in the most kidding way possible, so quit giving me that "look", stranger in the booth across from me at Applebees.)

Love you, Beeks. Love you alot.

Balance

My SIL was confessing that she is a perfectionist, AND that she wants to be a perfect mom. I think all of us want to be a perfect mom, and I thought about how I feel about my parenting, and I this is how I feel about it:

Sometimes my kids poop in the bathtub, and then BIGGER kids try to stomp on it. Sometimes I get splashed with that same crap water. And I feel like a crap mom (no pun intended, really!)
Sometimes I make my daughter cry harder than she already was by minimizing what she thinks is a BIG BIG deal.
Sometimes my son describes my friend as that "BIG HUGE FAT LADY?", and he tells people at church that his grandpa farts too loud.
Sometimes my kids tell me I yell too much and that I don't play with them enough.
BUT then...just the other day, one of my sons pulled out a chair for me when we went out to eat for my birthday. And I heard him tell the waitress "thanks for dinner".
And my daughter told me that she's glad that she can help take care of her little brother. And my other son said I was a "good mama" because I made some really crappy sweet-n-sour chicken (overcooked rice and chewy chicken). And just recently, my son told his sister she was "lovely".
But then...that was because the other son called her a butt head.
I figure it all balances out in the end. At least I hope it does.