Joe came home from school, bursting in the door and yelling, "We're home!" At the exact moment I dozed off.
"Shh Joe, please don't yell."
I hate to start our afternoons off reprimanding him and honestly is like my brain forgets every morning after they've gone how loud my son is. He gets home and the stress level jumps to 100% for about two hours until he's settled into something.
He immediately threw his coat and backpack like a frisbee across the living room into the dinning room and flipped over the back of the couch.
"Oh, Joe sweetheart please don't climb on the couch" my brain said... But my mouth was faster on the uptake, "UGH JOE get off the couch like that!" Ugh Kaitlin don't talk to your kids like that my brain snapped at me.
"Mom I had to have my head on my desk today!" He said seventeen decimals louder than necessary. Putting your head on your desk is a pretty big punishment in Joe's class. His teacher is so patient with him and is always so sweet with the kids. "What happened?" I asked, putting my arm out in front of me indicating my need for 1 foot of personal space.
"We were all painting pine cones and my paint was blue and it kept coming off and everyone said I peeled it off but it wasn't my fault because it was too pokey so it kept slipping off and my teacher wouldn't believe me so she made me sit at my desk with my head down and I didn't get any lunch!!" My mom heart skipped a beat but my mom brain (which is at half working capacity) realized this story sounded a bit fishy. I asked him what color other people were painting their pine cones, what project were they making? What time was this? I was contemplating hefting myself up to the computer to email Mrs. B to ask her why my son didn't get any lunch and what kind of person does that to a poor 32lb six year old when Jerry came downstairs and I asked Joe to tell him all over again what had happened.
"My friends and I got in trouble for painting our pine comes blue because they were supposed to be red white and green and we were supposed to show the recess duty but..." Here I interrupted. "And Joe didn't get lunch." Then I stopped, "you don't have to show the recess duty anything, what are you talking about!?"
He came up with a handful more of ridiculous stories before Jerry said, "Joe, I am a really smart person and I can tell these are not true stories. I also really don't like to be lied to so I want to make sure before you say anything else to take a breath and tell me what really happened."
Joe doesn't take a breath or even a break from his train of thought and says, "I was talking to my friends during math time on the carpet and so I had to sit at my desk with my head down." Jerry and I both exchange a look of, 'let it go' and I ask about lunch. "What!? Of course I had lunch!" He says in exasperation then as if something shiny caught his attention he darts out of the room and into the kitchen.
Joe has these stories a lot. Somehow they aren't lies though. Obviously by no means are they true so in that aspect I guess they are lies but they are also not lies. It's hard to explain. If I got upset with him for telling us these stories I think I would be upset with him for 99% of the day and damn near every conversation. He talks fast, loud, and half the time to an invisible person. The other half, we're invisible and he's talking and not making any sense.
I decided long ago that he is going to be an amazing writer like Lewis Carol or perhaps a successful producer, artist , and writer like Tim Burton. Maybe he will be like Dr. Seuss.
I would give anything to meet their mothers and ask them if their sons could have been anything like my sons and how did she keep her sanity!?
"Shh Joe, please don't yell."
I hate to start our afternoons off reprimanding him and honestly is like my brain forgets every morning after they've gone how loud my son is. He gets home and the stress level jumps to 100% for about two hours until he's settled into something.
He immediately threw his coat and backpack like a frisbee across the living room into the dinning room and flipped over the back of the couch.
"Oh, Joe sweetheart please don't climb on the couch" my brain said... But my mouth was faster on the uptake, "UGH JOE get off the couch like that!" Ugh Kaitlin don't talk to your kids like that my brain snapped at me.
"Mom I had to have my head on my desk today!" He said seventeen decimals louder than necessary. Putting your head on your desk is a pretty big punishment in Joe's class. His teacher is so patient with him and is always so sweet with the kids. "What happened?" I asked, putting my arm out in front of me indicating my need for 1 foot of personal space.
"We were all painting pine cones and my paint was blue and it kept coming off and everyone said I peeled it off but it wasn't my fault because it was too pokey so it kept slipping off and my teacher wouldn't believe me so she made me sit at my desk with my head down and I didn't get any lunch!!" My mom heart skipped a beat but my mom brain (which is at half working capacity) realized this story sounded a bit fishy. I asked him what color other people were painting their pine cones, what project were they making? What time was this? I was contemplating hefting myself up to the computer to email Mrs. B to ask her why my son didn't get any lunch and what kind of person does that to a poor 32lb six year old when Jerry came downstairs and I asked Joe to tell him all over again what had happened.
"My friends and I got in trouble for painting our pine comes blue because they were supposed to be red white and green and we were supposed to show the recess duty but..." Here I interrupted. "And Joe didn't get lunch." Then I stopped, "you don't have to show the recess duty anything, what are you talking about!?"
He came up with a handful more of ridiculous stories before Jerry said, "Joe, I am a really smart person and I can tell these are not true stories. I also really don't like to be lied to so I want to make sure before you say anything else to take a breath and tell me what really happened."
Joe doesn't take a breath or even a break from his train of thought and says, "I was talking to my friends during math time on the carpet and so I had to sit at my desk with my head down." Jerry and I both exchange a look of, 'let it go' and I ask about lunch. "What!? Of course I had lunch!" He says in exasperation then as if something shiny caught his attention he darts out of the room and into the kitchen.
Joe has these stories a lot. Somehow they aren't lies though. Obviously by no means are they true so in that aspect I guess they are lies but they are also not lies. It's hard to explain. If I got upset with him for telling us these stories I think I would be upset with him for 99% of the day and damn near every conversation. He talks fast, loud, and half the time to an invisible person. The other half, we're invisible and he's talking and not making any sense.
I decided long ago that he is going to be an amazing writer like Lewis Carol or perhaps a successful producer, artist , and writer like Tim Burton. Maybe he will be like Dr. Seuss.
I would give anything to meet their mothers and ask them if their sons could have been anything like my sons and how did she keep her sanity!?
Comments
Post a Comment