Tuesday, November 21, 2006

I want to eat my child.

Not actually canibalize him, mind you, but he just turned six, and so he's particularly yummy right now. He gave me the idea to blog. (He and a friend) He blogs all day long, it's just not written down. He just spews forth his simple and profound thoughts regarding anything and everything. Busses, trains, smoking, kindergarten, war.... And he does it all with this merry, untroubled look on his face. Either that, or he's excited beyond belief that he solved it. He solved the puzzle of why people smoke. Or as he puts it "blow disgusting steam". He's beyond obsessed by it - he's so worried about anyone we might know who smokes, and their imminent and untimely deaths. He mourns them in his own lovely way. In advance. "I'll be so sad when they die. Don't they know that?"

Watching his focus as he plays with his trains or cars - wish I had that. Wish I could muster that, for say, the dishes or laundry. Because he's doing his job. And that's mine right now. So what am I doing blogging? Why do I sit at my computer, instead of loading/unloading dishes/laundry, making beds, happily humming while I concentrate all my love and attention on straightening the sheets on the bed? Because it's boring? Well, yes, that's partly it. I'm a procrastinator? Yep, that too. But honestly, it does give me some weird satisfaction to do it, to take care of my family in this way. But I also feel a need to connect with the world, to communicate and to help people. Not that my blog will help anyone, but I hope it might be a meeting place for other moms (and dads) to connect with each other, to feel less isolated, to appreciate what's in our heads so we can truly focus on our kids when we have the chance. Because it's flying by, this time. Before I know it, he will not want to tell me everything. Or, God forbid, anything. So let me get this muck out of my head, so I can listen to him, hear him and appreciate his wisdom and laugh at his jokes.

Last night, my son was playing with a select few of his trucks, trains, busses, and one of the lego people who drives the digger was out of his digger seat (with the hole in his bottom that helps him fit snuggly into his digger seat prominently showing) directing traffic. "Mom, isn't it great that he has two jobs?! He is so happy to be helping people". Then a look at me. We've had lots of talks about my going back to work. I've been fortunate to be home for him. I've done odd jobs here and there, but since our move to a new state last spring, being his mom is my main focus. He started kindergarten in September, and it's two and a half hours. That's just enough time to get the house picked up. (or not). It's not enough time to drive to a place of employment, get some work done, and get home to wait for his bus. Anyway, he said "I'll bet you'd like to have a job. I'll bet you'd be really happy to help people."

I would. I do. I am.

Time to go wait for the bus.

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