Sturdy Love

Last night, Joe-Henry was coughing up a lung, that horrible, deep, wracking, wet cough, when I went in with my bottle of pink medicine. He would rather get hit by a bus, eaten by a dinosaur, get poked in the eye with a nasty eye-poking stick or cough all night long than take that medicine. He's never even tried it, but he knows it tastes like "burning fire".

But I am the mother, and I will not be moved, and he must. He MUST. So he wails and flails, and tells me he hates it, and I am a "mean mom", and then, he DOES. He opens his mouth, his face red with anger and effort, his cheeks wet with tears. There is the requisite "YUCK", and the thrashing of sheets, and "Why are you so MEAN?!" And after a few minutes of sniffling, he settles down again, as I smooth his covers and rub his back. It's quiet again, no coughing, no tears, just his arm around my neck, his warm hand on my cheek.

"Mom, you and Dad love me so good. Your love is as sturdy as the Great Wall of China".

And with that, we both went to sleep.

"That" House

This past Saturday, I was doing everything in my power to keep some kind of bug at bay, and Joe-Henry was BEGGGGGGIIIING me to play Hullabaloo with him, and I was BEGGGGIIIING him to leave me alone and let me sit on the couch, the doorbell rang. It was the little boy who lives across the street. His sister had been by earlier to return something her mom had borrowed the night before, and I mentioned that Joe-Henry was available to play. So first one child arrives, then his sister, then his brother and the other neighbor, along with his oldest brother. They all made themselves at home, I brought up some games and cleared the coffee table out of the living room, spread out paper on the dining room table for art projects, and managed to actually get a little rest and get some housework done. With seven kids in my house. It was easier than one in some ways, but also I knew that eventually they would go home, and I would be allowed to savor that.

But since then, our house has somehow become "that house", the one where everyone wants to play and today being a snow day, and Joe-Henry having a cough, and me trying to get my damn school core testing done, I had to set a few more rules. And since Joe-Henry didn't want to tell on his friends if they were misbehaving, I decided to make it easy on everyone and set some house rules. Let me know what you think:

MCQ HOUSE RULES

1. BE KIND. No trash talk, no back talk, and no inappropriate language.

2. If you played with it, please put it away before you leave.

3. If you’d like something to eat or drink, please ask first. If you eat something with a wrapper or a peel, please throw it
away. If you drink something in a disposable container, put it in recycling when finished.

4. No hitting, no pushing and no playing with pretend guns or weapons inside the house, no aiming pretend guns or
weapons at other people. Ever.

5. Ball throwing, screaming, rough-housing must be done outside.

6. If you need to tell an adult about someone else’s behavior more than once, it’s time to go home.

If you can think of any others, let me know. I'm posting them in Joe-Henry's bedroom. He was pretty excited about it until I explained to him that "modelling" behavior meant actually behaving that way himself, rather than just reading the rules to his friends out loud with a whistle around his neck. Anyway, I figure it might save me some arguments.

I love that we are "that house". I am thrilled that Joe-Henry has friends that want to play with him and that they feel comfortable here, and I'm glad to be providing a safe, fun environment for them. Really, I am.

Oh, and if anyone has any great cocktail recipes, send those my way, too.

My Deep Dark Secret....

Don't worry. It has nothing to do with panties or how to get busted by your child and your in-laws while you have hot steamy sex with your husband. (Not this time anyway) Nope. My deep, dark secret is this....

I LOVE to shop at Goodwill.

There. I've said it. Consequences be damned.

I should qualify this, I guess. I love to find a bargain, a steal, a perfect something that I need, and I love knowing that it might have had a gentle life already, and I'm not contributing to wanton and wasteful mass production of stuff. (But I've been known to get a little steamy over that as well).

Here's what brought this on. I have been shopping for a new coat for Joe-Henry for a couple weeks. His coat is on it's second year with him, and it had a previous life with a friends two sons already, so it was getting a little worn. Still in decent shape, just not as warm and toasty as it had been last year. Plus he's grown, like, a foot in the last month, so he's poking out a bit more. Anyway, I hit all the usual after Christmas sales, all the usual suspects: Macy's, Target, LL Bean, Land's End, and today I tried the Columbia Sportswear Outlet Store, sure that I would find nirvana. But nope. They had plenty of coats that he could have worn last year, or might be able to wear when he's in highschool, but none that would fit him this winter and into next winter. Shoot.

So we hop in the car and head home, but on the way, we pass a really great Goodwill, so I make a sharp right, with JH moaning in the backseat about how much he HATES shopping, and I tell him to put a cork in it, we're going in for five minutes. And there, shining under the neon lights, was a perfect winter jacket. Big and poofy and water-resistant, with a lovely, warm, fleecy detachable hood. Dark green with black across the shoulders.

Originally Old Navy, new with tags.

Price tag 14.00, and when we got to the cash register, half off. HALF OFF, PEOPLE! That's a brand new winter coat for SEVEN BUCKS.

He played football in it while it snowed this evening, and stayed nice and toasty. And he thanked me for his new coat.

Rooooaaaaaarrrr!!! I AM SUCH A BARGAIN HUNTING GODDESS!

Possibilities

It's been a loooong week at the McQ household. I have been mostly spending every spare minute trying to get some online testing finished for work, and you know, being a mom. Hanging over my head is the newsletter I need to write for the KT group, as well as designing a postcard for my old chiropractor in California. I'd say I'm dealing with it all really well by eating more chocolate, and neglecting myself. I have, though, showered every day this week, because personal hygiene is paramount.

The weather has been wreaking havoc on everyone's mood at school. First of all, there's been SUNSHINE all week long. Geez Louise. I was so relieved when I woke this morning to cloudy skies threatening freezing rain and snow. That's more like it.
Seriously though, what with the full moon this week and the cold, dry air making everyone a conduit for the lightening-strength static electricity, and the bitter cold (well, not mid-western bitter cold, but still, really damn cold for us), I was working double time with the kids. There were meltdowns of Titanic proportions this week, tantrums that made me feel as though I just wanted to take a nap. But drink first. I actually DID take a nap yesterday, something I can never do but managed yesterday to make it home, crawl under the covers and sleep for an hour and a half while my wonderful husband kept the boy busy.

Through this whole week, as distracted and exhausted as I have been, Joe-Henry has been my constant reminder of the joy that is to be had in the world. He's been in the best mood, laughing about everything, so interested in the world. He's going through another of those growth-spurts that take him from one part of childhood to another, and I'm feeling as though everytime I look at him, he's my boy, but different in some huge way. His brain is going five-thousand miles a minute. He's stopped playing Star Wars and is moving on to other landmarks in boydom: Football, basketball, dinosaurs and of course, fart and poop jokes. Of course, those last two have been with us for a while, because, well, he is our son after all and my husband and I have VERY sophisticated taste in humor, but lately, the jokes actually make sense. He's been very active and more social, which is something I've been hoping for. He's been asking to play with friends, advocating for that by himself, which is always something I've had to push him toward.

I've been less worried about him, and of course, now that I've said that out loud, I'm sure I'll find something to worry about. But he's just been so happy, and funny. I took him to see Walking With Dinosaurs last week, on the day that he had studied about Martin Luther King in school, and as the Paleontologist explained about the Meat Eaters Vs. The Plant Eaters, Joe-Henry leaned over and whispered "Mom, if Martin Luther King was a Dinosaur, he TOTALLY would have made the Meat Eaters get along with The Plant Eaters!"

In a world where the realities are so harsh for so many, I feel incredibly blessed to be invited into his reality, where the possibilities are wondrous and abundant. Because, even though my cynical grown-up brain might not see the hope and grace at first glance, through his eyes, it's there, as bright as the winter sun.

AnnieMcQ

Hi Diddly Hi Neighbors!

Miss Communication

Have you ever had the experience where you say something completely innocuous (or so you think) and it is taken out of context and someone winds up with hurt feelings, and you are standing there saying "but, but, but...." That's something that happened to me this week, with someone I dearly love, and it left me feeling bruised and anxious and sad. And feeling completely inept at communication.

I work with kids that don't perceive and process information neuro-typically, and my experience this week made me feel great empathy for them. They often say and do things that piss people off, and they don't mean to and can't really help it. Some of them don't have much language (if any), so telling someone to "back up", or "stop", or "I like you" is harder than it is for you and I. I think about that every day, and do my best to find ways for them to say what they need to say, because, damn, that is so important. To be able to just get it across.

And yet, even though I have the ability to do just that - I have the language and the voice - sometimes my thoughts don't line up in neat rows and what I say comes out wrong, or worse, I'm afraid to say something and wind up torturing myself with the "what if's". Things I need to say, but can't; or live in fear of saying because I might hurt someone's feelings or damage a friendship.

It might be difficult to imagine me NOT saying something, as I do tend to have a talent for TMI. But I have such a difficult time addressing things that need to be addressed. I'll process the crap out of things, and leave them unsaid, and I wish I could be braver. After all, these aren't issues that have any huge stakes: my marriage is not in jeopardy, my child is not in danger, I'm not running afoul of the law.

I'm just afraid to say things sometimes. And that pisses me off about myself.

Just Us

Grandma and Grandpa left today, leaving behind a wake of folded laundry and a fridge full of groceries. We had a great visit, with many highlights and a only a few bumps. Mostly, though it was lovely, and so nice to hear the laughter - theirs AND Joe-Henry's because they truly do enjoy each other so much.

Here are a few highlights of their visit:

Brunch at The Restaurant at Officer's Row in Vancouver. There were delicious meals all around, and Joe-Henry ate every speck of food on his plate, which might be setting some kind of record. When we went in the restaurant it was a bit cloudy, but coming out, the sun was shining bright, and we had a great day.



There was the trip to OMSI, where Joe-Henry lit up like a Christmas Tree doing all the experiments. I'm not sure how much they loved the museum itself, but I know they loved being with the boy. I did too.





There was the rousing game of Yahtzee over dinner with my brother and his girl, and Foosball after pizza last night at the Blind Onion (Joe-Henry and Grandpa won two games and we tied the third game), and of course, there were the oranges. So many of them!



And they look so SWEET!



We'll miss them, but we'll look forward to visiting them during spring break. And I promise: No hanky panky*.

*Some promises are made to be broken.